Free Balls

We have a sleigh bed.  The kids think it's theirs.  Really it's mine.  Okay, and Sean's too.   Lil and Grady stand on the top of the foot board, jump off, and try to catch the hanging strand that turns on the ceiling fan. They also enjoy climbing onto the window ledges behind said bed, and swan diving onto our down comforter.  Last Friday night, around nine, the entertainment was in full swing.   In the end, Grady hurt his foot. He pointed to the same bone he broke back in March.  Oh good.  Because I really need some drama in my life.

The following is the text conversation, in italics, between me and my friend Amanda.  There was a wedding, we were both attending, the following night.  You will also see my own personal commentary.  Because I am always talking to myself in my head. 

Me:  Seriously. I think Grady may have just broken the same foot as before :(  Jumping off the bed :(  I see visions of myself in the emergency room tomorrow morning, wearing a dress :( 

Amanda:  Do you want me to come over so you can take him now :)  Um how about you come over, we lock the kids in the bedroom and drink tequila while we talk about people.  Don't bring yours.  Your kids I mean.  Definitely bring your tequila. 

Me:  I think I'll wait.  He can walk on it :) Just walks funny and is pointing to the same spot as before :(  He is walking like a penguin.  But if I tilt my head slightly downwards and to the right, while I walk sideways next to him,  his gait looks completely normal.

Amanda:  Just let me know.  Better safe than sorry :(  

Me:  I'm thinking maybe I should take him :(

Amanda:  Okay, I'll be over in a few minutes :)

Me:  We are clear :)  He is able to walk on his toes :) I think he's fine :)  Yes, this was my scientific evaluation of whether or not the foot was broken.  Turns out this test works marvelously.  I was soooo right.

Amanda:  Okay.  Just let me know if  you change your mind :)  You are missing a chance to see me in my pj pants :)  Change my mind?  Why whatever do you mean?  Are you saying I'm indecisive?

Me:  I think I may be banned from the ER for a least a few months ;)  I would love to see you in your pj pants though :)  We will have to save that for tomorrow night ;)

Okay, after allll that,  I actually call Amanda.  You know, that form of communication where you  say words out loud.  Into a tel-e-phone.  The person hears you through this speaker like contraption.  Then they say words out loud too.  And you can hear their voice!  It's marvelous.  No ;) ;( :) involved.   "Can you come over?"  I whine.  I know she thinks I'm crazy.  But she comes over.  In her pajamas.  As promised.  And she's smiling :)  But she forgot her tequila :(

Grady used the emergency room bathrooms for the first time.  Ever.  He is officially potty trained.  And wants nothing to do with underwear.  He prefers, what Sean refers to as, freeballing it. If you know what I mean.  If you don't know what I mean, here is the freeballing definition, according to Urban Dictionary

Going without undershorts, said of a male, so called because his balls hang free and unencumbered. 

Sometimes, Grady will at least put on shorts over his free balls.  And sometimes, he won't.  I refer to this as free balling and extreme free balling.  You just haven't experienced life until you've visited our back yard on a summer day.  There are free balls everywhere.

Extreme freeballing

Grady is fine. No broken bones. We made it to the wedding.  Sean and I got a date night with lots of great friends.  I was free of my boys.  And their balls.  Well...I still had Sean.  He brought his along.  But he generally takes care of his own.  And covers them up in public.   I got to see Amanda in her pajamas. Again.    

Sunday afternoon, we met up with my parents to get the kids.  They had gone to That Bouncy Place.  And they got something while they were there.  Free balls :)

Free balls

Mickey Is Not Who You Think He Is

Last night I watched E.T. with Lil and Grady.  It's their favorite movie.  For the moment.  Which means we watch it over, and over, and over again.  Until the kids start to believe they're Elliot and Gertie.  I think this obsession is common among two to five years olds.  It may start before the age of two.  I wouldn't know.  I don't allow my children to watch television or movies prior to their second birthday.  I make Dempsey sit backwards on the couch and read War and Peace.  We're at the part when E.T. gets sick and Elliot thinks E.T. is going to die.  Lil hugs me and says, "Mom, when you get old and die, I want to put lots of flowers on your rock." 

At the pool this afternoon, Dempsey molested two different men.  Both were sitting on the edge of the pool and neither had any idea what was coming.  The first unsuspecting father had his nipple fondled.  The second, a hairy beast of a man, had his chest fur massaged.  Dempsey also likes to plant open mouthed kisses on anyone who can't get up and run fast enough.  My trained response?  Sorry, he's very friendly.  Then I admire all the beautiful flowers on my rock.

Dempsey has also been known to grab Grady's penis.  This is probably why Grady is not yet potty trained.  He is afraid to unleash it.  Today was the second day I put underpants on Grady.  He kept putting them on backwards.  Because honestly, wouldn't you want Buzz Lightyear where you can see him?  What point is there if he's on your butt?  I showed him the flap in the front.  Where he can pull his penis out to pee.  Lillian thought this was the best thing ever.  She immediately disappeared to her room.  That's the moment I hid the scissors.  Knowing it wouldn't be long until she was cutting flaps into all her princess panties.   Yesterday, Gray watched Sean pee.  "I like your penis dad, who got it for you?"  He inquired.  Sean pretended he didn't hear.  But I heard the whole thing.  The first thought that popped in my mind?  Well...since I've been watching E.T. so much I thought I was Elliot and Gertie's mother.  Mary may have been referring to E.T.  but I was thinking about a penis. 

Mary:   If you ever see it again, whatever it is, don't touch it, just call me and we'll have somebody come and take it away. 

Sean should really consider himself lucky because Grady told me, "Mom, I don't like your penis or your vagina.  But I like your butt."  I should have listened to my enlightened friend Maryann when she recommended we call everything mickey.  That way, when my kids talk about these things in public, I'm not smelling flowers. 

Really, I'm lucky to be able to watch E.T.  Our power went out last weekend.  All we could watch was each other.  The first full day without power started quite innocently.  Water play in the backyard.  Pool, sliding board, slip and slide, water table, sprinklers.  In the end, Sean and I Lil and Dempsey were naked and Grady was wearing a skirt.  We gave the kids a bath in the pool. 
Everyone kept their mickey's to themselves.  I could tell you that I mentioned to Sean that I liked his mickey.  But that might make you want to smell your own flowers.

Beginning of the day.

End of the day.





Get Outta My House

Family of Converse

The triple threat has been conversed.  Converted to the Converse addiction.  I love these sneakers.  I sported green and purple in my pre triple threat days and then mellowed to gray, black, and now brown.  I bought Lillian her first pair in red before she turned one.  That same pair was passed to Grady and are now worn by Dempsey.  Today, Grady got blue.  Lillian got....well 80's.  Not sure how else to describe them.  They are zebra stripe with neon splashes of pink, green, and blue.  They are hot.  Love the 80's, love the shoes.

Miss Rachael came over to babysit for date night.  Bringing with her three huge boxes.  One for each member of the triple threat.  They created their own houses, with Miss Rachael's help.  Lillian is very protective of hers.  Grady wanted to come in.  "Not until Thursday," she told him (it just happened to be Thursday).  She's confused. I remind her of the day of the week.  "Not until Saturday," she changes her mind.  "Get outta my house," she grumbles.  I can't help but think of one of my favorite 80's movies, Adventures in Babysitting.  Poor Rachael, if only she was old enough.  Maybe she would take comfort.

(in a telephone booth in the bus station)
Brenda: Chris I'm begging you, it's really scary here. I've just seen three people shoot up, a bald Chinese lady with no pants on, and there's this old guy outside who wants his bedroom slippers!
Old Man: [banging on telephone booth] Get out of my house!
Brenda: [kicks out a small box and the guy's slippers] You just moved!
Source

Dempsey's kickin' people outta his house too

Grady just wants to be like Old Man Lillian.  Sometimes this works in my favor.  I'm a non potty trainer.  Like gag me with a spoon.  It's just so gross.  I don't want to deal with it.  Old Man Lillian figured it out for  herself.  I was planning on waiting it out with Grady as well.  However, pool season is quickly approaching and Grady is not allowed in the big pool unless he is potty trained.  So this week I decided to tempt my candy addict with M & M's for poop and pee.  One for pee, two for poop.   Tonight he peed four times and pooped three times...in one hour.  This is what the third poop looked like.

Can two year olds get hernias?  Pushin' for M & M's.  I'll let you know.  Maybe this wasn't the correct approach.  Where did I put that damn instructional booklet?  Oh, that's right, they don't give you one.  Where the hell is my lawyer?    "It's hard to poop Wiwwian."  Grady tells Lil.  "Oh, I can do it,"  she responds.  "It's just hard to get it out sometimes."

Convert defintion, according to Webster's:  To bring over from one belief, view, or party to another.  In other words...you used to think light up Toy Story shoes rocked the casbah,  now you heart your blue Converse.  You used to crap in your pants.  Now you crap in a bowl.  For M & M's.   Converse, crapping in a bowl, and M & M's.  I'd convert.   I just crapped in my Converse.  How many M & M's do I get for that?

If you heart Converse....and crapping in a bowl, vote for me.  One click is all it takes.

Underwear, Teether. Toilet Wand, Sword.

Dempsey's molars are coming in.  Actually two have already arrived.  We produce very advanced children.  In the past, his chosen teethers were socks.  Now he's taken to Lillian's underwear.  Clean...I can deal with it.  Dirty...grossy.  Lil and Grady were in the backyard and Lil had stripped from the waist down to pee.  Yes, in the backyard.  Better than when she used to poop in the front yard.  Mirror mirror on the wall, I'm like my mother after all...I must admit I've done it myself.  Not poop...pee.  And not in the front yard...the back.  Okay, so that doesn't make it better.  What can I say?  Sometimes it's just easier.   At least I don't take it all off.  She carried her clothes back into the house to change, leaving pee soaked underwear on the floor.  Apparently the sand box was too intriguing and the pee just started flowing.  By the time we all came back in, dinner was calling and I forgot about the underwear.  Dempsey found it.  And chewed it.  Right after he pulled the toilet paper from the toilet that Lil forgot to flush.  I know, I know.  You're probably throwing up a little right now.  Okay, a lot.  But that's why this blog is called Three Under Five and Still Alive.  You thought I was referring to myself all this time?  No, I'm talking about the children. 

CHEEESE....dump

This looks like a good spot

Lillian has always had a bad habit of leaving her underwear everywhere.  We never potty trained with Lil.  I avoided it.  One morning, a month before she turned three, Lil woke up and decided she would go on the potty and wear underpants.  Shortly thereafter it was Easter.  We arrived at my aunt and uncle's house and the first thing she did was climb out of the van and pee right next to it.  Later that day my Uncle Jimmy found Lillian's discarded underwear on his bathroom floor.  She pooped in their backyard too.  Free fertilizer.  Happy Easter!  She changes more times a day than she can count.  And she can count to thirty.  Skipping seventeen and eighteen.  Perfect.  If only she left out thirteen through sixteen as well.  Even the underwear changes.  We find it everywhere.

Lillian perfecting her squat at almost three years old

Just hours before the underwear drop off

Everything at our house seems to have a dual purpose.  Underwear, teether.  Clorox toilet wand, sword.  Try getting jabbed at with that thing.  Couch, trampoline.  Bunkbeds, catapault.  Foosball table, stage.  Sink, swimming pool.  Toilet, carwash.  Beer, water.

As you can see, we are a very green family.  Reuse, recycle, reinvent.  Team Barnum.  You wanna join?  Drop your drawers at the front door.