Self Esteem Boost

Recently, there were several errands to be done. As is usually the case, I headed out with kids in tow. Tops on my list was heading to a local maternity store ... seems that the "normal" undergarments are a bit snug these days. You know it's time to upsize when the victoria's secret cotton undies serve the same function as a pair of spanx! I explained to an inquisitive Diva that we had to go the the "Mommy Store," which seemed to suffice.

As we entered the store, Diva asked if this was the "Mommy Store." I distractedly said yes and headed towards the back of the store. Several items were chosen and we made our way back to the register. While waiting in line, Diva noticed the dressing rooms across from the register and questioned their purpose and then why I was not trying anything on. Attempting to explain such things to a four-year-old is a waste of time, but the effort was put forth.

My beautiful baby girl's response:
She held up the undies, looked at them for a moment and proclaimed "These will fit you because they are big mommy panties?"

Nice baby, very nice.

Dressing for Dinner

Anyone that has ever let a toddler feed themself will completely understand. The best approach involves stripping them down to a diaper and concluding dinner with an immediate trip to the bathtub. We have used this approach with both of the kids, with the "mess" potential determining the level of clothing removal. As they got older, we could typically manage with just taking off a shirt.

As Diva has gotten older, I have been trying to break her of the habit. I have visions of my teenager sitting down in the cafeteria and removing her shirt to eat a cheese sandwich "because that's what we do at home." For the most part, excepting spaghetti and other such offenders, Diva stays fully clothed for dinner. Mission accomplished!!!

Fast-forward a bit:
Not too long ago, Diva's beloved Kiki came for dinner. If you are unaware, Kiki is my 21 year-old sister. She played with the kids until I announced dinner was ready. Without missing a beat, Diva turned to Kiki and said:
"Come on Kiki, lets take our shirts off so we can eat."

Um ... mission not quite accomplished. Guess we will keep working on that one!!!

Pop Goes the Diva

A little background information:

In our house, passing gas is referred to as "pops." When Diva was little, she was quite scared by the prospect of passing gas, especially if this act was to occur in the bathtub. In an effort to make it okay, we explained that this was just her booty's way of talking ... thus "pops." This worked great for a two-year-old, but she has not remained a two-year-old.

The fear has passed. In fact, the comfort level has gotten a little too high lately. In an effort to instill some semblance of manners in Diva, we have set up some rules. "Pops" are not allowed at the table, in front of company, etc. If possible, she is to go to her room to "pop." She is surprisingly compliant with this ... and as an added bonus, it is also funny to watch. In mid conversation, she will take off running saying "I have to go to my room to pop." We get the concept that some things shouldn't be done in public, but not quite that we should be discreet about such things. It is a work in progress.

Fast-forward to the first day of school:
All of the family piles in the car to see Diva off on the first day of school. Pictures are taken as she walks into the building and makes her way towards her classroom. Her classroom is at the bottom of the stairs. As she started down the stairs, she paused. There were lots of people in the hallway and she was clearly blocking the flow of traffic. In an effort to speed her up, I called her by name and then attempted to nudge her down the stairs. I should know better by now ...

Feet firmly planted, she glared back at me and said:
"Hold on Momma, I was popping!"

Wow, really ... did we just announce that in front of the entire school and assorted family members? And it was an announcement, as we only have one volume level for sharing "personal" information ... and it's just a hair shy of screaming.

A New Growth Chart

It is that time of year again - annual check-ups and vaccinations for the kids. We had an appointment scheduled for Tuesday. Since I felt no need to make things hard on myself, I waited until Monday night to notify Diva of our upcoming plans. We talked about going to the doctor so we could see what a big girl she was and how much she had grown. No, I made no mention of the shots ... I am a wimp and make no apologies for it.

I went to work that night and didn't give it much more thought, aside from how tired I was going to be. But, the wheels had apparently been spinning in Diva's head all night. When I got home early Tuesday morning, we had the following conversation:

Me: We need to hurry up and get ready so we can go to the doctor.
Diva: When I get to the doctor and take my panties off ...
Me (interupting): What? You don't have to take your panties off at the doctor. Why would you think that?
Daddy: No, just let her finish. This is good!
Me: Why do you need to take your panties off at the doctor?
Diva: So I can sit on the booty measuring 'sheen and we can see how big my booty is. 'Cause it keeps getting bigger and bigger and bigger.
Daddy: What exactly did you tell her they do at the doctor's office?
Me: Well, not that!!!

As expected, while several measurements were taken at the doctor's office, there was no measuring of booties. They are still more concerned with height and weight, not the size of one's booty.

I See London, I See France ...

It case it isn't clear from previous posts, I have a two-year-old. As a child of this age, he is prone to doing certain things that are expected of him. They usually involve a crowded public place, a high decibel level and are often directly related to the time frame between said event and naptime. I have become quite good at scooping him up and exiting a crowded (and suddenly silent) restaurant in under five seconds. I will even confess to cranking up the radio to drown out a hysterical scream when things don't go his way. It honestly takes a fair bit to leave me speechless when it comes to my Little Man. Today was a fair bit.

We started the day with our usual Friday routine ... gym classes for both kids. Little Man was unusually cooperative for his. Next it was Diva's turn. Since Little Man has difficulty sitting around for Diva's entire class, we ran errands for half of it. After we returned, his teacher was getting ready to leave. He watched her walk out, waved to her and saw the car drive away. At that point, reality struck. He was still standing in the gym. He turned to me and screamed. This much I was expecting ... the next one threw me for a loop. I explained that we had to wait for Diva. He screamed again ... and then pulled off his pants!!

Really?!?
Is that how we settle a disagreement around here.
He who drops his drawers first wins.
Where does one go from there? How do you continue to argue or reason with him at this point.

So, I did the only thing I could in this situation. I calmly scooped up my son (and his pants) and headed for the door!!!

Don't Drink the Water

We had house guests over the weekend. Miss C is roughly Diva's age and her mother and I swear they could be twins ... strong-willed and opinionated to say the least. Both girls are potty-trained and have been for some time. However, while Miss C wears "big girl panties" to bed, Diva still relies on a pull-up. Diva has always been quite content in her pull-ups, until she realized Miss C would not be wearing one. Although I insisted that she could not sleep in panties, I didn't hold out much hope of being obeyed ... this is Diva we are dealing with!!! After bathtime, I began to get all four kids ready for bed. Feeling certain the pull-up would be replaced with panties at some point in the night, I reminded Diva she needed to potty.

Our conversation went something like this:
Me: "Diva, you need to pee-pee before you go to bed."
Diva: "No Mommy, I already did!"
Me: "That was before your bath. You need to go again."
Diva: "I already did in the bathtub!"

Okay, so most kids pee in the tub at some point. In fact her brother has adopted this practice as his favorite new hobby. No big deal, right? But, as mentioned earlier, we had company this weekend. There were three other kids in that bathtub with her!!!

I will take this opportunity to say something I never thought I would. To Miss C's mom, I am so sorry my kid peed on your kid.

I can hear it years from now: "Yeah, I've known Diva since ..."

Beauty Isn't Easy

This week was to be quite busy around our house ... two birthday parties in two days. Halfway through the week, I had the sudden realization that I would be in sandels (or more likely barefoot) in pictures. Not a big deal - until I looked down at me feet. A pedicure had to be added to the "To Do" list. Having pawned Little Man off on Daddy, Diva and I set out on our spa adventure. We have a standing deal for such outings: If she behaves, she gets to pick the color. So far it has worked out well for me, but she does keep eyeing the neon orange.

When we arrived, there was no one waiting so we headed straight for the massage chair. Diva is fascinated with it, although she refuses to sit back against it. She was on her best behavior, the color she picked was a tolerable pink and we had a good time discussing her impending party. Time passed quickly and soon it was time to get up from the chair. Per our usual routine, I lifted her down and then followed. As she began to walk away, she did what only a kid can get away with. She reached back and picked her pants/panties out from where they had crept. Because there were several other people in the store at this point, I quietly asked that she not touch her booty.

My baby girl turned around, sighed loudly and said:
"Mommy, I not touching my booty. My booty ate my panties!!!"

I had on flip flops ... there was no need to hang around for nails to dry. Although, I'm not sure I would have stayed any longer regardless of the footware!!!