Two Toilet Stories

Obviously, from the title, you may not want to read this post. I, however, just find these TOO typical of my life that I can't omit the stories.

Rhyle is using the restroom the other day while I'm helping Livia dress and Owen is combing his hair (or so I thought).

"Mom! Come quick!" Owen calls frantically as he runs to me.

"What?" I ask, not moving. (What could really be wrong, I wonder? I know exactly where each child is and no one is crying.)

"Rhyle dropped your watch in the potty!"

Yes, he did. My wonderful new Christmas watch from Aunt Cara. It's waterproof, so that was okay. "Was he having doo-doos?" I ask.

Yes, he was. "Well," I said calmly. "Rhyle will just have to get it out and wash it off, then."

And this is why I love my boys. My statement didn't phase them at all. In fact, they thought it totally reasonable (which I think it was, though I was NOT going to put MY hand in there. I had also decided that if they gave me a hard time it was just going to wait until Braden got home.) I didn't hear any complaints or surprise about it- and a few seconds later there was a sink full of soapy water, and my retrieved watch, in the bathroom.


This very morning we were all in the bathroom brushing teeth. (I know, I know. I have a lot of bathroom stories. I'm sorry! This is just my life! When you have 3 children age 5 and under you spend a LOT of time in the bathroom together!!)

Rhyle can't reach the sink yet, so Braden has made the allowance that he can spit his toothpaste in the potty. Fine with me, but don't TOUCH anything, please!

So Rhyle had the lids up and was brushing and spitting. Owen was brushing. I was brushing. . . and I turned around in time to see LIVIA. . . with her head almost completely inside the toilet. I'm not totally sure, but I think what I saw was her spitting, and then DIPPING her toothbrush in the potty. . . Oh! Things get weirder and weirder! This is the same child that I caught licking the toilet bowl brush before. . .

Yuck. It's just gross. That's all I have to say about this.

Hearing Wade

Many of you will know that we had Rhyle's ears "fixed" last month. After substandard hearing screenings, we went ahead and had tubes put in his ears. Braden and I were not expecting immediate change (they won't recheck his hearing for 3 months), but have been pleasantly surprised by the difference we have noticed. Truly, his hearing is normal now- although, sometimes, I wonder. . .

Me: "Who wrote the Bible?"
Rhyle: "Chosen men. . . who were ENSPIDERED by the Holy Spirit. What does 'enspidered mean?"
Me: "INspiRed. . . "

Rhyle: "Mom can I wear these?" (a pair of sandals from the closet)
Me: "I don't think they fit you yet."
Rhyle: "Yes, they do! Owen has OVERgrown them, so now they fit me!"

Me (Reading of Mary and Joseph from the Rhyme Bible): "Who was there to see Him on that first Christmas day?"
Rhyle: Why was it the WORST day?

Horrible Nuts

Last night we had our church home group. The boys especially love this because Jack and Leo are there. (Two boys just old enough to be exceptionally cool and yet still young enough to play with them.) The plan is that the children will play downstairs for an hour while the adults meet upstairs. It doesn't always work out that way.

You won't be surprised to know that Livia had to go potty while I was upstairs. Owen came up to quietly tell me, "Livia needs you NOW." Awhile later one of the bigger boys came up to say, "Owen's bleeding." (He cut his toes on an exercise bike, but was fine.) When group ended and we prepared to leave I had to deal with two crying boys, each wanting to go outside and neither having permission to do so. When I finally did have everything packed up and had Livia leading me out the door, I saw that Braden was holding Owen (who was crying) outside. I got the story when we were on the way home.

Apparently, Owen had been walking UP the hill in front of our friends' house (which is a REALLY big, steep hill) when one of the bigger boys had come running DOWN the hill, knocking him flat on his back.

"Oh, Owen!" I said. "I'm so sorry! It must have hurt to have been knocked down."

"No." said Owen. "That wasn't what hurt. It was the HORRIBLE NUTS."

I was confused for a minute, until he and Braden explained. He would have been fine, tough as he is, except that when he fell his head landed on an ACORN.

Not So Sweet

Okay. I should be going to bed. I WANT to go to bed. But it just isn't sitting well with me. . . the day I had yesterday after all the nice things I wrote about my children the day before. And, it's also pretty funny (I think I think that as I look back already.)

What a day! When Braden got home I sadly told him the litany of the day:
1. Doo-doos (Liv's word) on my shoe. (On my shoe?! SO yuck.)
2. Doo- doos in the underwear (this was a distinct, and separate incident.)
3. About 3 or 4 pairs of wet underwear (and not from the snow.)
4. Finding Livia sitting in the middle of the dining room table while the boys are having a snack. She's THROWING grapes off the table, everywhere.
5. Every time we need to wipe she says, 'Me do it! Me pape (paper)! Me pape!" and we have issues.
6. Every time we need to wash hands she says, "No! No! Ho(t)! Ho(t)!" - but it's not. Then "slee(ve)! Slee(ve)!"- because I never pull them down fast enough. Then "Gum(my)? Gum(my)?" for her JuicePlus+ gummy- even though I WILL NOT give her one when she did NOT make it to the potty!
7. Livia started to cry when I was getting ready for the day. She wanted her toothbrush, so I gave it to her. Then she wanted, "Pate! Pate" (toothpaste. And yes, everything IS repeated. And yes, it does deserve exclamation points.) I wouldn't give it to her because I was busy. She started crying and wouldn't stop, so after a warning I took her to her crib. She crawled out. This is REALLY BAD because it's the first time. See? Not a good day between us.
8. Each meal she wanted down before anyone else was done. . . so she cried and whined and said, "dow! dow" over and over and over again. . . AHHH!
9. I was chopping carrots and onions for our dinner soup. I had them laid out nicely on the cutting board. . . and she took a bite out of each carrot and put it back.
10. She put the chair (not allowed in the kitchen) in front of the stove (which no children are allowed to stand in front of). Repeatedly. Then she touched the hot soup pot, despite my warning and efforts to get her down. And while I'm sighing at her again (Lord, forgive me!), I have boys singing and jumping and stomping and shooting at each other and trying to talk to me. Complete overload.

And this is only what I remember up until dinner!

Okay. I don't like that this appears to be a LIST of the difficult things my daughter did yesterday. I'm just trying to remember them to tell you- so I can forget about them. Maybe this makes the picture a bit more accurate. Sweetness she is- mixed with lots of other things. =) And though all of my days are treasures. . . sometimes I have to really step back to see it.

Ballereen or Ballerine?

Rhyle is SO funny to me.

He has said a few times lately, "I'm a BallerEEN." (This, as he holds his hands gracefully above his head and propells himself, in stocking feet, in rather dangerous pirouettes on the hardwood floor.)

I love it- because he knows enough to distinguish himself from a ballerinA. . . and yet he's still young enough to find much of that fantasy totally appealing to his artsy, fun little self.

"Saw-wee"

Sweetness.

I was speaking to a dear friend in Florida today, trying to summarize my life as it is and as it's been since we last talked (which was months ago). It's really very thought-provoking to have to do this. The biggest change I could think of, the most significant way our family is different than it was just 7 months ago in Florida . . . is Livia.

I must say that it is MY attitude that has probably changed the most- and thankfully! I was the one most perplexed and flummoxed and exasperated and challenged by her. And the little girl she is now seems so far removed from that trying infant/toddler! I suspected all along (or hoped, at least!) that one day I would be able to say these things:

She's sweet! Now that she can do most of the things that the boys can do she has relaxed some. It was as if she was chomping at the bit to get her turn and she was just irritated at LIFE because it wasn't fair that she couldn't do all her brothers could. Now she can sit in a big chair, drink from a big cup, use the potty, put her own shoes on, open doors, speak her mind, and much more. She's pleased with this! And it makes her so much more pleasant for me to be around. For a season, it seems our battle of wills has ebbed.

Livia is the first to say "Saw-wee" when anyone gets hurt- whether it was her fault or not. This is endearing to me. . . for who couldn't be melted by a 1 year old coming over to comfort you with sweet rubs on your back? Although I realized tonight that she's a bit extreme in this: I was reading nursery rhymes to her (another amazing thing because she has resisted sitting still for books for SO long!) and we read "Humpty Dumpty." She pointed to the pictures and said, "Fall. Fall."

"You're right," I said. "Humpty Dumpty fell down."

"Saw-wee." she said compassionately, rubbing the picture of Humpty and then giving him a kiss.

"Just Checking"

"I am reminded that God is my Father still, that he does have a purpose for me, and that nothing, absolutely nothing, is useless in the fulfillment of that purpose if I'll trust him for it and submit to the lessons." (Elisabeth Elliot)

This resonated with me tonight. It would have been good earlier in my week, when I had intense headaches and was fighting off the cough and cold the children gave me. I looked around me and saw my failures, saw all the things that I didn't think I was doing well enough: a messy house, no bread to eat, skipped reading lessons, lack of exercise. . . These things really aren't that consequential, but they remind me that I'm trying to attain my own standards, ultimately so at I will be deemed "okay" enough and therefore will not need God. Will not need grace. How pitiful! And it is in those times of stuggle that it is SO good to be reminded that GOd has a purpose for me. He is sovereign and I'm His child. And even these minor irritations and bumps in the road have purpose for His glory.

Reminds me, too, of Rhyle.

Twice today I heard him ask, "Dad?"
Braden responded, "Yes?"
To which Rhyle contentedly answered, "I was just checking."

End of conversation. All he needed was for Braden to respond. All he needed was to know that he had his Dad's ear if he needed it. That was enough. It should be enough for me, too.