She's Here...

but as yet, unnamed.

Bathtime at our House

Thank God for giant, old, claw foot tubs!

My heart hurts for our daughters and for us...

Danigirl has brought to my attention the new Dove film. I've posted about these before. I love them and they make me cry.

Why you don't want to sit next to us in Parenting Classes...

Bob and I are taking parenting classes that are being offered through the school. It's a fun little evening, dinner, childcare, talking with other parents. It's really nice. Now, the main area Bob and I fall short is in the consistency arena. I may have mentioned that we are both ADD. I can't tell you the number of times that Bob has come home and asked where Conor is, only to have me tell him that he is out with his friends, and then to have him tell me that I forgot *again* that Conor was grounded. Once when he got banned from the family room because he kept leaving dishes in there even after we told him he could no longer eat in there, I had to make a sign with "Conor" on it and a circle with a slash through it. It was the only way I would remember.

At one point in the evening we were discussing rules and consequences and rewards. We were supposed to make a list of our rules and the rewards and consequences that go along with them. Bob and I sat there staring at the blank sheet of paper. Neither one of us could come up with a single rule/reward/consequence that we have. Finally, I wrote down a rule I could remember.

• Pants must be worn at the dinner table.

Bob and I collapsed into a fit of giggles. Because, that really is a rule I have made. While people around us wrote down, "Make beds before breakfast." We wrote down

• If it has come out of your body, it does not go back in.

along with

• Respect species specific food i.e. bird food is for birds and dog food is for dogs

It's not that the kids don't make their beds. They do. But, that is more of just something that we do. Every morning we get dressed, make our beds, brush our teeth, take our vitamins. I have never felt like I had to spell it out as a rule. Unlike

• Everybody wears their own underwear.

kittens, kittens, kittens

even for someone who doesn't have a particular soft spot for cats, kittens are so damn cute. We went to the Humane Society today to play with kittens. The foster thing isn't really working out, and Chowder and I decided if we are going to do this, then let's just do this.

So, we spent a lot of time with an adorable little black and white girl. She is 3mos old, just came to the Humane Society from a foster home with the rest of her bros and sisses. She is fixed and shotted up. But, I had my eye on a cute little gray and white girl, too. We came home to think for a couple of more days to make sure we want to deal with the logistics. I really want to be committed to her for the next 15 years. Yikes! The kids will be in college by then!

In the mean time I have snapped two mice in my traps and still there were holes in my new bag of BBQ potato chips. ARGH!

What the?

and yes, they did go to the grocery store with me. and no, I didn't care. and yes, apparently other people did. and no, I didn't care about that either.

We all have been given special gifts...

by God and sometimes we just need to suck it up and accept them graciously.

scene: Dinner time at our house. This scene plays itself out the exact same every single night. We eat dinner at 5:00p. At 5:30p every night Oliver excuses himself from the table and goes to the bathroom to take a poo. every night. And then every night Oliver calls Bob from the dinner table to come wipe his butt. There is no variation in this scenario. And I admit, that I encourage none.

Oliver: Daaaaaaaaaad! Could you come wipe my butt?!
Bob: Are you serious?! Why?! Why can't you wipe your butt?
Oliver: Because. I neeeeed you!
Bob: But why does it have to be me?! Why can't Mommy come wipe your butt?!
Oliver: (clearly confused.) But. It's your job.
Bob: How is that my job?!
Oliver: (exasperated.) Because you are the Buttwiper!

yeah. so get to work.
hee hee. Buttwiper.