Chonie Talk

Around here we call underwear "chonies." I just wanted to clear that up for anyone who does not know what I am talking about when I say "chonies." Now that you are informed I will get on with my post.

Today we had to buy Noah some more chonies because I just don't do laundry enough for him to only have 5 pairs of them. We took a family shopping trip to Target and lo and behold Noah spotted a package of Thomas the Train chonies! We added them to the cart and of course he had to go potty at that moment so that he could change into his new beloved Thomas underwear. I had to explain that we had to pay for them first and that we were not yet done shopping. That did not go over too well. He refused to let me take him to the potty. Plan B- I pointed out the security guard standing by the bathroom and told Noah that she would give him a ticket if he did not go potty right now and leave the Thomas chonies in the cart. My threat was effective, he went potty and I avoided a mess and a melt down.

After Target, we headed to Bed, Bath, and Beyond for some other items. The problem was that Noah would not part with his beloved Thomas chonies and requested to take them with him into the store. By this time the package was open and he had all three pairs ready to take with him in the store. I bartered with him and he agreed to only take one pair in with him. Great! I am sure people were wondering why my little boy was walking around a home goods store swinging chonies around with glee.

Tonight, he requested to sleep with them on, but since he still needs a diaper at night, we had a problem. My solution? Well, I told him he could hold all three pairs while he slept...you know?...like some kids hold a doll or a blankie? My kid holds Thomas chonies...three pairs of Thomas chonies. Noah was very pleased with this plan and is now asleep happily cuddling with 3 pairs of chonies. Is that weird?

What Has Become of Me?

As my weekend comes to an end, I sit here reminiscing over the past few days and I realize that all I have talked about to anyone I have come in contact with this weekend is my son's poop and pee. I also realize that I have used the word "potty" maybe 200 million times in 3 days. What has become of me? I am an intelligent woman with aspirations of writing a book some day and yet all I have talked about for the past 3 days is Noah's Disney character "chonies," and how Noah only peed all over himself once and how he pooped in the potty 4 times total so far and how I now carry around a potty with me wherever I go. What is wrong with me?

I'd like to publicly apologize to whoever had to listen to my crazy potty talk this weekend. I apologize to the lady who I sat next to in church today. I am sure that you did not care to hear about the text my husband sent me informing me of the second "man poop" that Noah had left for him in the potty. I apologize to my cousin for bragging about Noah going pee twice in the public potty at the dinner table. I apologize to my sister-in-laws for running through the house holding Buzz Lightyear chonies and informing you of my inability to keep Noah's pee from squirting out of the toilet. And to my friend who just came up to me this morning at church to say hi, I apologize for immediately letting you know that "Noah only had to pee all over himself once to understand the whole potty training thing."

I know that all of you did not ask for any of this inappropriate information. Thank you for being so gracious and listening to my rants. ! I promise to bring back more variety to my conversations and to try and stay away from toilet stories...I'll just keep those for my blog!

Potty Training Diaries

Our first full day of potty training was surprisingly successful. I spent all day staring at Noah for "potty" signs, asking him if he had to go potty, and sitting on the bathroom floor. The highlight of my day was Noah pooping in the potty for the first time. It took everything within me not to gag at his man poop. Instead, I danced around, celebrated, praised him profusely for pooping in the potty. Then we went to Barnes and Noble to buy him an "Emily Train." He was ecstatic! While we were out he made 2 successful public bathroom pee stops.
Later in the day, we took the kids to my mom's house along with the porta-potty and Noah continued to use it successfully. I was so proud!
I pray that the rest of the week is as great as the first day! Pray for us!

Theology Lesson for the 2 Year Old

This is the conversation that took place on the way home from Bup's house. Bup had given me a bad report on little Miss Maia who had decided to hit her brother for no reason that day. So, I decided that the car ride home was a perfect time for a lesson on loving each other. Little did I know that it would lead to a theology lesson for Noah. I was definitely not prepared...

Me: Maia, you do not hit your brother. You need to love your brother and be nice to him. Jesus wants us to love each other.

Noah: Why?

Me: Because He...(pause.. how do I explain that the world would be choas if everyone was mean to each other?)...just wants us to be kind and loving toward each other.

Noah: Where is He?

Me: He lives in your heart.

Noah: Where is my heart?

Me: Ummm...uh...inside your chest...

Noah: Jesus, is in there?

Me: (Phew! ) Yup! (Oh please let this be the end)

Noah: (Lifting his shirt) I wanna see Jesus?

Me: Well, you can't see Him, but He's there...in your heart... and He hears you when you talk to Him even though you can't see Him and He wants you to be nice to your sister and He wants you to love her.

Noah: I wanna see Him?

Me: Well...uh...you can't...uh...

Noah: Look Mommy! A tractor!

Me: Thank you Lord for sending the tractor to rescue me!

Ay yaiy yaiy!

Put on Your Mommy Face

I've run into a new parenting dilemma for which I was not prepared. You see, when Maia is trying to communicate with Noah and he does not understand her, she will run over to him, wind up, and smack him as hard as she can. This is also the way she reacts if he picks up a toy that she wants, if he gets food before she does, or if she just feels like hitting him. I told you, she is a feisty one...you don't want to get on her bad side! The dilemma I am having has nothing to do with how to punish her and everything to do with my instinctual tendency to laugh out loud because it is hilarious to watch. How in the world is she going to take me seriously if I am laughing while trying to tell her that what she did is wrong? Yesterday, I had to turn around and bite my lip (so hard that I nearly bled) until I could compose myself to turn around and discipline her! It really is that funny. What do you do when you need to be serious with your children but what they did was just so funny that you can't help but laugh?

My Cuties

Potty Training Notes to Self

I am writing these notes so that I can refer back to them when potty training Maia:

Do not jump up and scream, "LET'S RUN TO THE POTTY!" when you notice the that trainee has "the look" on his face. You will scare him out of going poop and have a constipation problem on your hands.

Always have rewards on hand when potty training. Apparently, two-year-old trainees do not understand the IOU concept. Example: "If you go poop in the potty mommy will owe you a treat!" Trainee: "Where's the treat mommy?" Me: "At the store. If you go poop in the potty mommy will go to the store later and buy you a treat." Trainee: "Where's the treat? I wanna see it? I no wanna go poop in da potty."

Put a tarp over all carpeted areas in the house and over all couches. Clean up will be much easier this way.

Do not have a one-year-old running around while potty training a 2 year old. The one-year old will stick their hands in the toilet, run wild with the toilet paper, and steal the trainee's toys which in turn distracts the trainee from the task at hand and makes potty training impossible.

When potty training do not buy underwear that are too big for your kid. If the underwear are too big and the trainee poops in them, the poop will roll out of the underwear and be considered M.I.A. until you later find the missing poop nugget on the dining room floor in the midst of the toys.

Things That Should Not Be Forgotten

I've noticed these past couple of weeks that I forget to do the most basic things. Upon becoming a mother of 2, you forget that you exist sometimes. Everything revolves around my family so when I have to wake up in the morning and get two little people up, ready, fed, changed, and packed for the day, I forget to do basic things for myself. Here is the list of things I have forgotten to do at least once in the last two weeks:

I forgot to apply deodorant (got a whiff of my under arm while reaching for something in my mailbox at work)

I forgot to eat (wondered why I felt light headed at 6:00 p.m. and realized I hadn't fed myself all day)

I forgot to brush my teeth

I forgot to put my laundry in the dryer and had to wear mildew smelling clothes

I forgot to pee (I had really bad stomach cramps late in the afternoon after being out with the kids all day...couldn't remember the last time I emptied my bladder. Who wants to take 2 kids into a public restroom stall.)

I hope that I am not the only one. If you have forgotten to do any of these things on a regular basis because of mommyhood, please let me know in the comment section so that I don't feel so bad.

Don't Mess With My Expensive Coffee

I've realized that I am very particular about my expensive coffee drinks. I get a little angry...okay A LOT angry...like vicious angry when my drink is not made properly. The good thing is that the baristas would never know because I don't have the guts to tell them. My husband is usually the lucky one who gets to hear my crazy rant after someone has just messed up my thousand dollar drink. Yesterday, I ordered my simple nonfat iced 1 pump vanilla carmel machiatto with whip cream and extra carmel (it's really not as complicated as it sounds and I refuse to admit that I am high maintenance no matter what the Starbucks test says) and the guy totally gipped me on the carmel sauce. As soon as I saw him pour the chintzy amount of carmel on my drink and put the lid on, my blood started to boil.

Are you kidding me? That is NOT extra carmel, that is like a drop of carmel. Are you like the "carmel rationer" or something? Is there a shortage of carmel in your store? Are you trying to save Starbucks money? I promise you they won't go out of business if you give me a decent amount of carmel...after all I did spend like $10 on this drink. Let me get a good look at your name tag...Mr. John ...I am going to talk to your manager and let him him know that you need a lesson in carmel pouring...maybe you should be assigned to clean the bathrooms all day every day until you learn the meaning of "extra carmel."

I smile sweetly and say thank you as he hands me my drink...he has no idea that I am a complete psycho and that I just fired him in my head.

As Chuck says, "The only reason people think you are good is because they can't read your thoughts." Mr. Barista John will never know...

A Daddy Snack

Today, daddy decided to give the kids a "healthy snack" while mommy was on her way home from work. Apparently, ranch dip is healthy when given to children in massive quantities. Thank God not much of the dip made it into their mouths. I came home to ranch dipped children and these photos. Men!

All The Dead Fish

Today, Ricky was due for a wakeboarding day. It has been awhile and he starts to get a little cranky when he NEEDS a wakeboarding day. So, we packed everyone up, brought along a friend and an Uncle and headed out to the scary waters of Lake Elsinore like we always do. When we arrived at the lake, we noticed some patches of nasty debris floating in different spots in the water. We just chalked it up to the "grossness" that is Lake Elsinore and headed to the launch ramp. Upon arrival, the worker casually let us know that they had just had a "big fish kill over the weekend." WHAT? He went on, "We had about 2 to 3 million minnows die and the water is a little smelly." WHAT THE HECK? I cannot believe I have allowed my son to swim in this water before. I knew that it was nasty but not nasty enough to kill millions of fish! To my complete shock, I hear my husband say, "Oh well, it is what it is. We're gonna go in anyways." Again, WHAT?!

"Ummm, babe? My son is NOT going to swim in that water and I don't think you should either. That is just disgusting. Maybe you should check out the water first before we launch." Ricky and the friend and the uncle went down to the water and came back with the unanimous decision to get the heck outta there! It turns out that the clumps of nastiness we had spotted in the water earlier were dead fish. The lake was full of them and the air was thick with the smell of rotting fish. The man scooping them out said that they died from lack of oxygen which basically says to me that the water is no longer water since a main component of water is oxygen...you know the "O" in H2O?

Well, we got a refund and left that nasty place and I would be just fine to never go there again...however, apparently it takes more than millions of dead smelly fish to deter my husband from ever going there again. So, I will probably find myself at Lake Elsinore at a later date. Ewwww! Gross! We need another local wakeboarding lake...desperately!

The Tiny Casket

A while ago, I posted a blog mentioning my pregnant friend who found out that her baby boy was not going to make it out of the womb alive. We prayed and begged God for a miracle. This was her first pregnancy and she was just so excited to be pregnant and to be a mommy. The doctor's said that the baby had severe abnormalities and that every bone in his body was broken. To protect Aly's health they had to induce labor when she was about 28 weeks pregnant. Baby Corban was born, took a few breaths, and then went home to be with Jesus. I can only imagine the pain that my friend and her husband must feel. They must ache to hold that little boy and stroke his tiny bruised face just once more. She must long to feel him kick and hiccup inside her womb for just one more day. Going to the funeral yesterday and seeing the petite casket in the front of the church was one of the most haunting sights I have ever seen. Caskets should never have to be made in that size.

Despite all this, after attending that funeral, I fell more in love with God. There was hope even in this devastating situation; there was light even though the situation seemed so dark. There was purpose and meaning to life. People met Jesus for the first time because of this little boy's death and for that, this couple was willing to sacrifice their baby. Long before this occurred, they had prayed for God to do whatever it took to bring their family members to know Him. God answered.

Do I have that kind of faith? Am I that in love with my Savior? Do I love people that much? Can I honestly say, "Lord do whatever it takes to bring the people I love into a relationship with you."

Pray for my friends today if you remember.

More Quotes From My 2-year-old

Noah: "I no have to take a bath mommy? I wanna be seenky." (stinky)

Noah: "I no have to brush my teeth mommy?"

Me: "Yes, you have to brush your teeth."

Noah: "I no want to brush my teeth. I want my teeth to fall out."

Noah: (standing still and concentrating)

Me: "What are you doing buddy?"

Noah: "I tryin' to do a big fart!"

Wordless Wednesday

The Chaos of Bath Time

I think I've mentioned that I dread bath time in a previous post, but did I mention that it is complete chaos as well? Let me paint a picture for you...

Tonight I bribed Noah to get into the bath by telling him he could take his tractors in the bath tub. Bad idea. These are outside toys and have been outside for a long time. But, once again to avoid a battle, we let him bring them inside and then into the bath tub. So, I throw them in, turn on the water, call my kids into the bathroom, begin to undress them, glance at the water level, and gasp in disgust. "What's that mommy?," Noah asks. To my dismay there are leaves, dirt, and rocks floating all over the bath tub. The tractors were obviously hiding all of these outside items in their crevices. Noah begins to freak out because I remove the tractors from the tub and tell him that they will not be able to join him for bath time. Then, I empty the tub and clean out the debris.

Finally, the bath is clean, full of new water, and ready for my children. When I turn to pick up Maia, I realize that she is almost completely mummified in toilet paper. While I was cleaning the tub, she was pulling the toilet paper off the roll and wrapping herself in it. I scold her, unravel her, attempt to save what I can of the toilet paper, undress her and get her into the bath tub. One down, one to go.

I call for Noah who slowly makes his way into the bathroom and asks for the tractors again. I scare him by telling him that if he takes the tractors into the bath, the dirt from them will get stuck in his nose forever. He decides to take a bath without them. Next comes the hair washing which is always a battle with my children. I fight and scrub and pull and rinse and nearly drown them in the process. This is followed by the body washing in which I beg and bribe them to "turn this way," "lift that arm," "sit down," "stand up," "close your eyes," "lift your head," etc.

Finally, after what feel like a decade, we are done. The bathroom looks like it has been hit with a tidal wave and I feel like I have just run a marathon through Death Valley. I am sweaty, smelly, and exhausted. But, now I have to chase them around the house to try get diapers and pajamas on my kids...they love to run around naked with just their towels on their heads.

There has to be an easier way... I think that tomorrow I am going to take them outside, hose them down, dry them with my blow dryer, and put them to bed.

Things That Made Me Smile Today

Noah said to Maia, "C'mon chick!" when Papi was taking them for a walk. He didn't want her to get left behind and he wanted to sound like Papi!

At bed time Noah said, "Sing a song Mama?"

Maia was crying because she had gotten hurt and Noah ran over to her and gave her a big hug and a kiss. He just loves his sister.

Noah, "Where's the tongue one red car?" (He has a Lightening McQueen car with its tongue sticking out)

Noah, "Thank you Jesus for Bup aaaaand Guck aaaand Tyler aaaaaand Kayla."

Noah, "I have chaps mommy?" (I have chips mommy?)

Noah, "I no go poops on spider man." (Referring to his spider man pull ups.)

Noah, "Bup lives in Chino Hiyoos Ca-li-fornia."

My Little Guy

Even though age 2 has been peppered with some challenging moments, I must say that the good moments far outweigh the bad. My little guy brings me so much joy and laughter. He is all boy and yet has a sweet and gentle spirit about him. He adores his little sister and jumps to comfort her when she cries. He definitely does not like going anywhere without her.

I am in awe at his intellect and memory at such a young age. He remembers everything and communicates so clearly that sometimes I think I am speaking with a little man! One of my favorite things to do is to watch his face when he is processing information. I feel like I can see the thoughts connecting in his brain and beginning to make sense to him. He loves to sing and can often be heard making up his own songs but if I try to sing along with his made up songs, he is quick to tell me that I am not singing it right. He wants to pray to Jesus whenever I mention that someone is sick or that they got hurt. He enjoys wrestling and playing with all of his grandpas and uncles. And he loves to laugh. His hearty giggle makes my heart full.

One of the 2-year-old moments that I will never forget happened several days ago. We were in the car and Noah was chattering away as usual then he said "Mama?"..."I just love you." My heart melted into a puddle of love mush right there in the car!

I JUST LOVE YOU NOAH MAKAINE MURRAY!

Not Me Monday

No I didn't brush my teeth for a week with my son's Cars toothbrush because I left my toothbrush in Mammoth.

No I didn't chase my son around the house when I noticed he was going poop to put him on the toilet so I could prove to him that going poop on the toilet is not scary...no I didn't scare him into not going poop for the rest of the day. Not me!

No, my toes do not have a 3 moth old pedicure still on them and of course I have not left my toe nails un-cut since that pedicure 3 months ago. Not me!

No, I don't have a mountain of clean clothes piled on the floor in my room that have been sitting there for four days. I would definitely have put those clothes away by now.

No I did not give up on potty training after only 2 hours of trying. Not Me!

No my beautiful wedding dress is not sitting in a scrunched up heap in my closet since the photo shoot I did 4 months ago.

No, I didn't cry and sulk last week when my cleaning lady didn't show up. And I surely didn't leave my house the disaster mess that it is. Nope, not me!

The Dead Birdie and the Carnivorous Kitty

Today while taking the kids outside to let off some energy, Noah saw a bird carcass with the head missing. Here is the conversation that ensued:

Me: EWWWW!

Noah: What's that Mama?

Me: (Mind you I didn't have much time to think) It's a dead bird!

Noah: It's dead Mama? (Thoughtful pause). It's not working?... What happened?

Me: The kitty cat bit the bird and he died.

Noah: (with a look of horror and disgust) The kitty cat bite the bird and he dead?

Me: Yeah, let's go. That's gross...

As we turn to walk down the pathway Noah spots a bird feather on the floor making it's way over to him. His face fills with terror, he jumps out of its way, and runs to me for protection. "What's that mama?"

Great! I've traumatized my kid. He is now scarred for life and will be terrified of cats and birds and feathers and fur. Most of the time I am very sensitive with my answers to my 2 year old so as not to traumatize him. Today, I was obviously not on my game. I could have lied and said it was a funny shaped rock or trash or I could have ignored him and just kept walking, but nooooo, I had to tell him that it was a dead bird whose head was missing because a kitty cat bit it off!!! What was I thinking?! Now I will have to pay the consequences of having a scaredy cat (no pun intended) kid who has nightmares of kitty cats biting his head off. OY VEY!

A Little Mama

Today, I put Noah in time out for grabbing something out of Maia's hand. He does this from time to time when she has something that he wants and she usually goes flying across the floor as he rips the item out of her grasp. He is learning that this is unacceptable...meanwhile, Maia is learning how to be a mama! As he was sitting in time out today screaming and crying, Maia walks over to him points her little finger in his face puckers her cute lips and says, "No, no Wo-wah. No, no!" I stifled my laughter as much as possible and tried to remove her from the "time out" vicinity and explain that I am the mama and I could handle this one on my own. At least I know who to turn to when I am tired of doing the disciplining!

This is What My Life Has Come To

Sorry, I've been away so long. We went on vacation this past weekend and I did not have internet access. But, I am back and am full of blogging material! Vacation story#1:

The other day, we were in a gift shop in Mammoth Lakes. I was already on edge because it was nearing nap time and my kids were becoming more unpleasant by the second but also because the gift shop contained glass items which are not kid friendly. Ricky was on the prowl for sweatshirts for the kids. This meant that I was left to fend for myself with my two little monsters. I realized 5 minutes in that I was holding my breath and should probably start breathing regularly lest I pass out and break all the glass trinkets myself. Maia had found a stuffed animal section while Noah was darting between clothes racks hiding and screaming for me to find him. On one particular pass, I get a whiff of something quite unpleasant. I call him over so that I can do a diaper check but he disappears under a rack. I quickly scoop up Maia and run to catch my son. She flails about in my arms nearly falling to the ground, angry that I would remove her from her precious plush toys. Meanwhile, with my other hand I catch Noah by the arm, sternly tell him to come when I call him, and attempt to do a diaper check as he tries to make a getaway. What a sight I must be pulling at my kids diaper trying to look down his pants while he screams, "I DON'T HAVE POOPS!" Sure enough, I see and smell the nasty substance in his diaper. Then, as if right on cue, Maia's face turns red, and she displays "the look" that says, "Don't bother me, I'm concentrating on pushing something out." Great! I put her down so as not to squish the icky substance which will only make the clean up worse. I am now holding a kid in each hand by the wrist trying to get them out the store. Both are very unhappy with having to leave and are letting everyone in the store know their sentiments by screaming, crying, throwing their heads back, and holding their feet up. I am dragging both of them by the glass trinket section, holding my breath, making threats through my teeth, and smiling at all the staring people hoping that they do not notice the nervous neck twitch that I've developed in the last two minutes . At this point I am wondering where the heck my husband is when I notice him out of the corner of my eye, discreetly making his way to the front of the store with me but keeping his distance so as not to be associated with the crazy lady with the smelly devil children.

I finally make it out of the store, shoot my husband a death glance and take my best shot at changing the two nasty diapers in the front seat of my truck while the kids complain about the seat belt buckle stabbing their heads. After I am done, I wipe off the poop that actually got on the seat (oops), and ponder on the fact that 3 years ago I was in this same town drinking coffee and reading a book next to a peaceful lake. I had my hair, make-up, and toes done nicely and I was well-rested and had not a care in the world. Now I am wiping poop off of my front seat and recovering from a traumatic and embarrassing public tantrum throwing session. Oh the joys of motherhood!