cracked

I can't decide.

Are graham crackers the best thing since disposable diapers, or are they really a menace to the household lurking in the cupboard?

I used to think they were a sort of a solves-all. Kids hungry? Here's a graham cracker. Kids bored? Give 'em a graham cracker. Wanna build a house? Graham cracker to the rescue. Want s'more? Graham crackers, of course.

Well.

That is until I realized that they really don't fill the kidlets up. Five minutes later it's I'm still hungry! I mean, maybe if they were made out of hummus then it would be different. Come to think of it, maybe I could make my own recipe....

Also, I do considerably more sweeping when those blasted crackers are in my house. I swear everywhere I look all I see (beside children) are crumbs!! It's on the counters, on the floors and in the cupboard. And just when I get done sweeping the kitchen clean, here comes another child munching on a...graham cracker!!! It's impossible to eat those things without making a mess. Worth it? I think not.

I don't know. What do you think?

this may be slightly gross

Potty training Greggory is like giving birth.

I often hear myself saying, repeatedly, "Push, Greggory! Push, Greggory! You can do it!!...."

Sometimes it works. Sometimes it doesn't.

And the waiting! He'll say, Mommy! I've got to go potty!!! It's like a rocket blasts off and we rush to the toilet! But then---nothin'. So we make up potty songs and go through several false alarms and sometimes he goes. Sometimes he doesn't.

And sometimes his water will break, but it will really be pee and then I have to clean it up.

I bought him a toy tractor. That's what started this whole potty business because I figured he had to earn it, I couldn't just give it to him. And for the most part it has worked great. He's a full-time undy-wearer now.

Being the third child you would think that I have this potty-training business all figured out. Well, you would be.... wrong. All I know is that when the mother is finally ready to have the carpet cleaner as a permanent fixture in her living room, then it is time to train the child.

i'm glad i'm a mother

When Greggory tells me that frankly he doesn't need breakfast because he's already eaten. Half a tub of whip cream.

When I overhear Brooklyn teaching Roman that England is an ocean and Roman agreeing, saying, "Yeah! That's the place with all the Indians!"

When I am saying my morning prayers and Greggory kneels down beside me very reverently, then passes gas very loudly, and then just in case I hadn't heard it, proclaims, "I just farted!" while giggling wildly.

When Weston tells me that during a how to brush your teeth, children demonstration and some toothpaste...stuff... accidentally falls out of Weston's mouth onto the floor, Greggory, the opportunist, quickly scoops it up with a carrot he happens to be eating to use it for dip. Egh.

When I discover that both of my daughters happen to be growing their bottom two teeth at the same time.

Watching Holland crawl for the first time and watching her eat delicious cheese pizza for the first time--and loving it.

When it's nine o'clock at night and I go in to check on the boys who are supposedly asleep and I discover them playing hawk and jumping off the top bunkbed and diving for shoes that are posing for mice.

I'm glad I'm a mother.