there are no words

The people who used the two disabled women as bombs…who strapped explosives to them and sent them into open marketplaces…who then detonated those bombs remotedly, killing the women and about a hundred others near them…well, there are just no words.

not ready

Ok, I’m bailing on the potty training for today. He wet three sets of underwear and sweatpants, and not once did he seem to have an understanding of what his body was doing. I was wrong; I do not have unlimited tolerance for laundry today. So I put a diaper back on him and started up the washing machine. Maybe another day. I did, however, get four loaves of banana bread baked and just put a dish of that buffalo chicken dip in the oven (I lurve that stuff). I also managed to read all of the newspapers that have piled up for the week and most of 2 Newsweeks, so it’s not been a totally wasted day.

smoking

So, after a bit of detective work, I believe that our babysitter smoked in the kitchen last night. I’m not anti-smoking, but I don’t like to smell it. And I really really really don’t want to smell it in my house. There was a lot of purfume/scent that hit me when I came in last night, but Nikki tends to wear a lot anyway (now I guess I know why), so I didn’t think too much of it. But this morning when I came into the kitchen I was like, why does the kitchen smell like smoke? I sniffed T’s coat, as he can often smell of smoke from eating out or visiting with people in their homes. No, it was coming from the sink. Aha! Nikki probably smoked and then put it out down the drain. So, this morning I’m trying to flush out our kitchen sink (new as of a week ago today) with white vinegar and baking soda and hot water. Ugh. Ironically, Nikki’s dad is who helped install the sink. It’d be pretty weird if I had to call him back over here to help clean it out. So, now I’m trying to decide what to do about it all. I could just not ask her to babysit again. Which is definitely a possibility. But the kids like her and they generally respect her and she is usually available when I need a sitter. I could talk to her about it. I’m guessing I’ll say something to her like this: “Nikki, I don’t care if you smoke and I’m not going to tell your mom or anything, but please don’t do it in the house. It is bad for my allergies, but it is downright dangerous for K with all of hers. I can’t have cigarette smoke near her or in the house where she breathes. If you want to smoke, don’t do it in front of the kids, of course, but just do it outside. Don’t set anything on fire, but just don’t do it inside anymore. Thanks.”

magical words

We have been hovering on the edge of potty training for a few weeks. I’ll think we might get somewhere and then — nothing. E’s favorite phrase as of late when I’m changing him (after he has run away from me and I’ve had to chase him all over the house) is to say, “but I like the poo, mommy. don’t change me.” A child who claims to have an affinity for poo is not ready for toilet training. But today, E said to me as I was cleaning up a messy diaper, “I want to use the potty, mommy.” Bless his heart and by jove, we can start that right away. It’s a yucky cold and rainy day, so we can stay home all day. I do have time clean up after him and do lots of loads of laundry today. So, I put him in underwear (just yesterday I had bought him some Mickey Mouse underwear to add to the hand-me-down underwear that some folks at church had given us and what I used with K; now we have 9 pair). I told him to tell me when he has to go pee-pee or poop. I think my biggest resistance to trying to train him is that I honestly don’t think he’s aware of his own bodily functions. He doesn’t seem to be able to anticipate when they are about to happen. K was just the opposite. She not only woke up dry from about a year onward, she knew from about age 18-20 months when she needed to pee and poop. It was natural and easy to train her at 22 months. E has been an entirely different story. So, we’ll see how today goes. He’s already peed in his underwear and sweat pants once. I didn’t make a big deal of it other than to say, “ok, now you have to tell me when you need to go to the potty.” T & I have an all-day long meeting tomorrow which is going to interfere with the continuation of potty training; probably not the best thing for trying to keep things consistent for E.

prayers

E’s nightly prayers as of late: Bless Mommy and Daddy and K and E and Poor PK.

He’s so cute and sweet and so aware of all the emotional things going on in our home. Which is so different from K. It is hard to watch our cat die. for all of us.