When I wake up these days I find that I am having to immediately play detective. Super sleuth, gum shoe, P.I., a dick. All I need is a trench coat and well worn Fedora. I go in search of clues, evidence of crime. Sometimes they are glaringly obvious and sometimes they are subtle. I also get to be judge, jury and executioner (well punishment dispenser, anyway) when I inevitably find evidence of wrong doing. This morning it was a trail of ripped up cardboard leading to a pile of discarded plastic, crumbs and mutilated lunch meat. All of which had previously been a prepacked lunch time meal that my wife had gotten just for herself. That was one of the more obvious. Yesterday I was feeling like a CSI as I examined evidence of a raided refrigerator. I had found partially consumed yogurt packages on the counter. Not the cups of yogurt, mind you, but the plastic straw-like containers that allow one to consume the yogurt like a partially melted popsicle by sucking the contents out of the tube. The ends of the tubes are perforated to facilitate tearing them off, however, it is still a difficult task for a two and a half and a four year old. Hence they will resort to tools. There in lies the real crime. Yogurt theft is only a misdemeanor. Scissor use, however, is a felony in this household.
I examined the evidence and confronted the suspects. I had enough evidence for a conviction, but I was expecting to get a confession. Much of the evidence had been removed in an effort to cover their tracks. The chairs that had been used to reach the counter had been repositioned. A check of the waste bin indicated that paper towels had been used in an effort to clean up the evidence.
"See these smooth lacerations on the epidermal layer of the yogurt container?" the suspects remained stone faced. I continued "These markings are indicative of some sort of cutting implement. How did you open these?"
"Uhmmm." was the reply.
"You used the scissors, didn't you?"
"Uhmmm, uhm, uhm...uhmmmm." Rylee replied.
"I know that you used the scissors and I am very disappointed, but I want you to tell me the truth. Did you use the scissors to open these?" I continued.
"Uhmm...yeah." a long pause "Are you going to spank us?"
"Yes, I don't want to, but we have talked about this many times. First you don't get into the fridge without asking, you come get Mom or Dad. And second, we have told you not to touch the scissors many, many times. Those could hurt you." Not to mention that I don't want you to cut you hair again, I didn't add.
"Ohhhhhh!" They both said, not looking forward to a swat on the rump.
"Why did you do that? We talked about that before you went to bed." I asked again forgetting that all kids are brain damaged, at least according to Bill Cosby.
I wonder if I really expect an answer to that question. "Why?" I must, since I keep asking it.
For some reason Kari and I are kind of "backside of the clock" kind of people. We are night owls. I get a second wind at about 8 p.m. and can easily stay up till the wee hours of the morning. I have to force myself to go to bed before one in the morning. It is, however, still the only time that we have to ourselves and thus don't feel too guilty about it. I recall reading the "Those who hoot with the owls at night can't soar with the eagles in the morning." It is true. The late night coupled with the time change made for an extra groggy morning. Therefore the big girls didn't wake me as they usually do, as they went about their morning routine. Kari had left the house early, for a doctor's appointment. Good news there, the mole on her shoulder, that I thought might be skin cancer, isn't.
I had just roused myself when I heard the big girls talking quietly. Coffee was seeming like a priority, the twins were just starting to stir, so there would be time. The phone rang and I picked it up and looked at the number. Kari, calling to give me the news about the appointment. We chatted for a few minutes. I realized that I hadn't been to the bathroom yet and was a little distracted. Kari was telling me about her plans to visit Walmart to secure the "Pinocchio" DVD, just released from the Disney Vault for a limited time. I started to dance a little from side to side. She continued on about something that was less important, at the time, then my need to visit the head. Finally, in a huge breach of etiquette, I took the phone to the restroom with me.
"What was that?" She asked
"The toilet." I responded.
"Oh...so how are my babies?" She asked.
"Good, good." I said trying not to let on that I had just gotten out of bed. "The big girls are being good. The twins aren't up yet. I was just about to go get them."
At that point I was about halfway up the stairs. Having forgotten about the coffee (I am easily distracted, I guess) I had started upstairs to get the twins. That is when I saw Rylee come out the guest bathroom with a soaking wet sponge.
"What are you doing?" I asked Rylee.
"Cleaning up the white." She replied, looking a little sheepish. My mind was still a little foggy. Did she say "wet" or "white?"
"What? Cleaning up the wet?" I asked. My first thought was cat pee, but they usually leave that for me. "No. Put the sponge back. I will be down in a minute."
"I will be home in a bit, is there anything else you need?" Kari continued.
"No...I can't think of anything." I said as I was opening the twins door.
"Okay, see you in a bit." She said and hung up. I got the twins down stairs and locked the gate, so they couldn't venture back up there on their own. I turned to Rylee, who had remained at the bottom of the stairs.
"What were you cleaning? The wet?" I asked. All kinds of scenarios were running through my mind.
"White." She chirped. What could be white? She must be mispronouncing "wet."
"Show me." I ordered. Not sure I really wanted to see.
She led the way into the dining room. It was "white" alright. It took me a moment to get my mind around it. I looked at the great white spot on the floor and noticed that there was a clean spot right in the middle white spot. The clean spot was perfectly round and right in the center of the white mass, as if a can of some sort had been at the epicenter of an explosion. I peeked into the kitchen and noticed that the stainless steel container, that we keep the powdered sugar in, was set in the middle of the island counter top. It was covered with dozens of small, white hand prints. It all became so clear. I looked back to the carpet and now noticed the darker colored spot. The water that Rylee had been "cleaning" with was mixing nicely with the sugar to form a pasty substance. To top off the scene the entire box of jumbo sized Legos, about 150 mulit-colored peices, was spread across the floor and mixed with the Legos was all the miniture furniture from the girl's doll house, with a scattering of toy musical insturments for a bit of zest. It literally looked as if a bomb had gone off.
I was livid. This was not the first time that we had told them to come get us if they wanted something to eat and I gave them an earfull, at full volume. Then I sent them to a time out. I considered giving them both a swat on the rump, but my mind was still too foggy to figure out if that would be over reacting. And I don't like dealing out punishment when I am angry.
Note: you can not vacuume up wet powdered sugar.
This morning Rylee and Reagan got into the freezer and absconded with my low carb ice cream bars and a pair of scissors. They retreated to their sanctuary upstairs to open and devour them. Kari found them some time later looking inocent, except for the chocolate on their mugs.
I am very curious to know who instigated that caper.
Madison and Jordan now bow their heads and fold their hands when we pray before dinner.
The renters paid on time for the first time in at least 10 months. I was quite surprised.
Thats it for now.
There a couple of new developments in the recent weeks.
First we have converted the twin's cribs into day beds, as I mentioned in the last post. The result is that their schedules have been thrown off kilter. They don't really nap anymore and they get up much earlier. Unless both of them are on the verge of passing out, one will inevitably get out of bed and wake the other one up. They also get into more things that they shouldn't. They like to empty drawers very much, which I mentioned. Somehow, they managed to get a bottle of lotion off the changing table yesterday. You can imagine the results. Who knew there was so much lotion in one little bottle? The other problem is that the big girls wake them up and let them out in the morning, while we are still asleep. I don't mind Rylee and Reagan getting up to play, but the twins can't be wandering about unattended. We are working on a solution.
Recently we got the big girls safety scissors. You can already see where this is going, can't you? I gave them several long lectures about how the scissors were to be used, how they where only for cutting paper and under no circumstances should they be used to cut hair or anything else. JUST PAPER. I also sat with them and showed them how they worked. They had used them several different times with no problem and I was feeling confident that they would use them in a responsible manner. I'm not sure how I reached that conclusion, give the last couple of years that I have spent with them, but I did. So the other night, when Rylee requested to use the scissors, I got the two big girls situated at the table with a stack of paper and the cutting implements. Kari and I had spent the day cleaning and were still in cleaning mode and it was nearing dinner time. We were both within eye sight of the big girls, but not paying them too much attention. Kari was busy in the kitchen and I was on some task, per Jordan's orders, when I paused and looked at Reagan. She smiled, then she held up her right hand with a clump of hair pinched between her fingers. I did a double take. "She couldn't have!" I was thinking.
"What did you do?!" I said. Her smile faded, but the hand holding the hair stayed up. I looked at the table and floor and saw that she had chopped off a pretty good amount. I focused on her face and notice that she lopped off her bangs, right in the middle of her forehead.
"NO NO, I TOLD YOU THOSE WHERE ONLY FOR PAPER. THOSE ARE NOT FOR CUTTING HAIR!"
"WHAT!!!" Kari shreiked from the kitchen.
I sighed and then looked to Rylee, about to ask why she had let her sister do that. She was sitting right next to her. That is when I realized that the impressionable little sister was just following big sister's lead. Rylee had cut and even larger chunck out of her bangs. She was not smiling after hearing what I had said to Reagan.
"Rylee!" I exclaimed, "What did you do?"
Kari snatched up the scissors, gave me a withering stare and stomped back into the kitchen.
"YOU BOTH GO HAVE A TIME OUT! I TOLD YOU THOSE ARE FOR CUTTING PAPER. I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU CUT YOUR HAIR!"
While the girls were doing their penance I got out the vacuum and started cleaning up the mess. I looked into the kitchen and saw Kari throwing the scissors in the trash.
"Is it neccessary to throw those away? They WILL be ready for them someday." She gave me another "stink eye." I knew at that point I must be the responsible party. I can't believe that I had not seen that coming.
"YES!!!! IT IS!!" She responded.
"You think we should throw out all the scissors in the house then?" I reasoned.
"NO, THEY ARE NOT ALLOWED TO TOUCH THOSE!" She told me.
"Okay, that makes sense." I said stiffling several smart aleck remarks and knowing that this was not a battle that I wanted to wage. She was pretty irritated.
I heard the bell go off, signaling the time out was over.
"Rylee, Reagan, come here. We need to talk." I said, and took them to the bath room. I stood them in front of the mirror.
"LOOK what you did to your hair." I scolded. "Rylee, why did you cut your hair?" I asked. I expected her to say "I don't know" and was wondering why I bothered to ask.
"I wanted to look pretty." she replied.
"Well, it doesn't look pretty, Rylee. It looks horrible. I told you at least four times that you don't cut hair." I said. Rylee looked totally crestfallen and I was wondering if I was being too stern.
I knew that I had to take a picture, so I had them stay there while I got the camera.
The rest of the evening was pretty tense and chilly. Finally Kari turned to me and said "Can I get this out?"
"Okay." I said, knowing what was coming. It had been pretty obvious that she viewed me as the culpable party in this whole affair. I don't recall exactly what she said, but it was something to the effect of "I think this was your fault. You have to watch them more closely."
"You are telling me that you would have been sitting there with them the WHOLE time?" I asked defensively.
"Yes, I always sit with them using scissors and glue." she told me. I wasn't buying it, but maybe. At any rate we were on friendly terms again. We disscussed where to take them to have their hair evened out and how bad it was going to look and how long it was going to take to grow out. Rylee's hair is pretty short now, but Reagan's isn't too noticable. The hair stylist told Kari not to worry, you are not the first.
I intend to do this better with the twins.
In other life lessons I have found that I am much less grumpy if I set up the coffee maker the night before. Having my cafeine fix ready and waiting makes the morning go a little smoother. That way I can at least down a half a cup before too many demands are made by the little people. I have also found that if the kids wake me up early it is best to just stay up. Turning on cartoons and trying to sleep for another 20 minutes does me no good at all.
Maybe one day we will start going to bed at a more reasonable hour. However, at this point, we still use the time after the kids go to bed as "me time" and "get things done time."
I am fascinated by the inconsistencies in children's behavior. I was delighted to look outside and see my oldest, Rylee, pushing her younger sister, Reagan, on the swing. That seemed like a very big sisterly thing to do. I decided not to interrupt. About ten minutes later I heard Reagan wailing at the top of her lungs and figured I should investigate. I peeked out the window and glimpsed Rylee rocking in the swing, contemplating her toes, totally at peace. I leaned out a little more, so I could see the other swing. There was Reagan...hanging upside down. Apperantly she had been swinging on her stomach and misjudged her center of gravity, resulting in her upside down, legs splayed, finger tips on the ground and unable to extircate herself. Rylee appeared completely unconcerned.
"Rylee! Help your sister!" I hollered, as I was rushing to help Reagan. After I had her righted and calmed down. Reagan got back on the swing, belly side down, gave a good push with her legs, and toppled over again. Head down, legs splayed, toes hooked, and screaming for help. I gave her the short course on center of gravity and then turned my attention back to Rylee.
"Why didn't you help your sister?" I asked her. "Didn't you see that she needed help, didn't you hear her crying?"
"Because, because, because, because, Reagan... cause, uhmm." She replied with a shrug of the shoulders. I wondered breifly when she learned the shoulder shrugg as a reply to a question.
"You are her big sister, Rylee. You need to help her when she needs help. Okay?"
"OOOOOkaaaay." She said.
"Good. Sisters need to watch out for eachother. You want Reagan to help you when you need help, right?" I continued.
"Yeah." She agreed.
"Alright then."
The twins do it too. They will be terribly concerned if the other is crying and will go out of their way to find a pacifier and ram it into the wailing sibling's mouth. Maybe they just don't like the crying either. And again, ten minutes later one of them, usually Madison, will grab the other by the hair yank the pacifier out and push the her sister down. They will wrestle happily on the couch for long periods, laughing and shrieking, and then kick and hit any sibling who dares to try sitting on Dad's lap.
At the risk of sounding redundant, the potty training continues... It is not going well, really. After an excellent start by Reagan, she is now on the verge of being put back in diapers untill she is 18. Rylee has had some accidents too. That is all I have to say about that. I am ready for this stage to be over and I know that we have a long way to go.
I heard a quote the other day that I loved "The days are long, but the years are short."
On one occation Reagan actually made it to the potty upstairs and failed to let anyone know that she had used it and it now needed to be emptied. So when I took all the kids upstairs to pick up toys before bed I didn't pay much attention to the twins banging around in the bathroom. I was focused on scooping up toy kitchen utensiles when I glanced up and saw Madison bent over the training toilet. She had the lid held open with her right hand and was splashing around in the bolw with her left. "Uh oh..." I thought.
"Hey!! What are you doing!" I said, leaping to my feet.
Before I could reach the bathroom I saw Madison dip her hand in the bowl, stick it in her mouth and return it to the bowl for more. Then I saw that Jordan was in on the action and had her hands in her mouth. They were having a grand time, giggling and smiling. As I pulled them away I noticed that the bowl was in fact full, there was "liquid" splashed on the lid, on the floor, dripping from their arms, their chins, and I fought the urge to gag. The front of their shirts were soaked
"No! No! No! No!" I nearly shouted, grabbing hold of Madi and pushing Jordan away from the toilet with the other hand. I held Madi over the sink and pretty much doused her in water, all the while keeping Jordan at bay with my left foot and lecturing Reagan about the need to tell Dad when she uses the toilet. When I had Madison as clean as I could get her I put her down and grabbed hold of Jordan. Still stiffling the urge to gag, I started scooping handfuls of water up to her face and working my way down. Madison, in the mean time, kept charging for the toilet, pushing away my efforts to block her with my foot like a little sumo wrestler. After the third time I had to stop washing Jordan to grab Madison I gave her a pretty good smack on the hand. Now she was screaming, but at least she wasn't trying to get in the toilet anymore.
It still makes me feel a little sick thinking of the whole affair.
We have finally changed the twins cribs to day beds. We didn't really think they were quite ready for that yet. Or maybe we didn't think we were ready for that yet. However, Jordan, the little monkey, keeps climbing out or getting her feet stuck in the rails. Kari found her hanging upside down by her feet the other day and so we didn't really have a choice. We certainly didn't want her to fall on her head. The down side is that they now get up and empty every drawer in the room. Rylee and Reagan used to do that too, until we put locks on all of their drawers. Installing locks on every draw is a major hassle though.
The twins have also been moved from the high chairs to seats that latch onto the dining table. They seem to eat better that way for some reason. It is also nicer when we all sit down to diner to have them right there next to you. We are still working on the food throwing.
Reagan is still seeing the speech therapist twice a month and will likely qualify for a school program after she is three. Not a lot of progress in her speach as of yet.
That is about all I have at the moment.
(Just so you know. While I was typing this I have paused at least ten times to wipe up pee, plunge a toilet, wipe up milk, fix a bowl of Cheerios, dry tears, console toddlers, brush teeth, read stories, and tuck kids in bed.)
This post is really just for me. Just some moments that could get lost in the shuffle of events that occupy my gray matter.
First a quick update:
I took the twins in for their 18 month check up today. I suspected that Kari asked me to take them because there was going to be shots involved and she doesn't like to be the bad guy. She said that she just wanted to get some cleaning done while we were out, but I got her to admit the real reason. So I am the bad guy this time. I think they will forgive me.
Both girls are right around 20 lbs. Madison still has about a half of a pound on Jordan. Jordan weighed in at 19.8 lbs and 30 inches. A huge improvement from her minuscule 1 lbs. 13 oz arrival weight, but I have still caught fish bigger than her. Madison measured 30.5 inches, but we think they measured wrong and Jordan is slightly taller than Madison.
Jordan wasn't pleased with anything about the doctor's examination and it goes without saying that the shot didn't improve her humor. Madison on the other hand was having a grand time at the doctor's office. I should have brought the stroller to keep them captive, but I didn't and Madi was wandering all over. It wasn't too bad in the exam room, but when we went out to the scale she bolted down the hall and started peeking in on other patients. She made quite a few new friends. She does not like to be told where to go.
"Madison, we are going this way." I called after her. She paused long enough to look back and smile before continuing the way she wanted to go.
"Madison! Come back here."
"Giggle."
"Madi!!" And she is gone around the corner.
"Sigh" And I charge after her. She smiles again. I take her by the hand. She takes a few steps with me and then colapses like a sack of potatos. Fortuantely, the nurse gives me a hand.
One thing I found interesting was Jordan's concern for her sister. While Madison was getting her check up, her Binky became dislodged and was left up on the exam table. She didn't seem to mind and was going about her business, climbing on chairs and examining books. Jordan, who was in my arms because she was being fussy, kept reaching for the exam table. I thought that she wanted a book that I had set up there. When I tried to give her the book she pushed it away and again lunged toward the table. So I stood up with her and leaned her over the table. She immediately snatched up the pacifier and lurched toward Madison. So I leaned over and Jordan stuck it back in Madison's mouth. Then she was fine. She just had to make sure that her sister had her Binki. I found it odd that she was so concerned about that, when usually I am breaking up fights because one or the other has stolen a pacifier right out of the other's mouth. It was touching though.
Madison did great at the doctor's. She didn't even shed a tear when she got her shot. I was pleasantly surprised. Both girls got a clean bill of health and don't have to go back till they are two.
I feel like Kari and I are kind of back in the swing of things, we had both been a little down since Christmas. Money has been tight, not that that is any thing new, but it made Christmas a little bit more stressful. That and the change in routine threw us a little off balance. But now we have the house cleaned up, the laundry sort of under control, and find ourselves in a little better humor.
The potty training continues... Reagan was doing so well in the begining and I was thinking that this was going to be a snap. But there have been some set backs. Some of it is kind of humorous, now that it is over. However, she still insists on waking me up each morning by setting a green plastic bowl, full of urine, on my face. She is able to use the big toillet and I am not sure why she is inclined to use the training potty first thing in the morning. I am thinking of putting it up, especially since she has been less careful about not spilling it on the way down the stairs.
Some times Reagan is very good about letting us know when she needs to go. Other times she is just to busy to be bothered with it. The other night we were standing in the kitchen, getting dinner started. Reagan was standing on a chair at the island "helping" when I noticed that she was begining to fidget.
"Do you need to go pee pee?" I asked.
"YEAH! YEAH! YEAH!" she chirpped while grabbing her crotch. We will have to work on the etiquette later. She hopped down from the chair took two steps toward the bathroom, paused, looked down, pulled her pants down around her ankles, and then resumed "running" to the toillet. I don't think I will forget the sight of her shuffling as fast as she could go with those pants down around her feet and her arms flapping up and down. After I wiped the tears from my eyes and got the laughing under control I had a talk with her.
"It is better if you wait till you get to the bathroom to take your pants down, because it is easier to run with you pants on." I said, trying to look serious.
"OOOOOh kaaaaayy." she replied with a grimace.
"Good girl. Lets go wash hands."
The twins have proven to us that they know right from wrong, but chose to do wrong anyway. They know that they are supposed to stay out of the drawers in the changing table, where we keep their pajamas. The other night, while I was away on a trip, Kari noticed that the twins were not in the room and it was quiet. That is always a warning sign. Then she heard Reagan, the enforcer, saying "No, no, no, no." and heard the sound of the drawers being opened. She walked around the corner to investigate. There stood Jordan, gleefully pulling the neatly folded pajamas out of the drawer. Jordan hadn't seen Kari enter the room and she continued ransacking the drawer. Kari shifted her weight and put her hands on her hips. Jordan looked up. When she saw Kari she jumped so much that Kari thinks her feet may have left the ground. Then she broke into a huge grin and with all of her weight she slamed the drawer. However, there were still pajamas hanging out, preventing the drawer from closing completely. And so with a big "It wasn't me" grin she began quickly trying to stuff the clothing back in.
"You stay out of those drawers." Kari told her for the thousandth time.
"Giggle."
"That is a no no." Kari said.
"Good girl, good girl." Jordan replied.
Rylee is really starting to be a help around the house. And I almost don't have to put help in parenthesis. Every night she and Reagan pick up toys before bed and she has even started to help her sisters without being prompted. Reagan still has a little trouble getting her clothes on and Rylee will come and give her a hand. I heard them talking the other night and poked my head around the corner to see what was going on. Reagan was laying on the floor with her legs in the air, while Rylee was trying to push pants onto her legs. I found it comical because Rylee was saying exactly what I might say.
"Ray Ray, put your legs down." She was saying. "No, put your legs down." "Hmmph." "Can you stand up?" "Ray Ray, stand up." It took some work, but they succeed in getting her pants back on.
Reagan is Kari. Kari has a mini-me. They look the same, if you look at Kari's childhood photos. And it became very apparent last night that they act the same. When the big girls were picking out pajamas for bed time. Reagan pulled out a pair of pajama bottoms, put them on, stood up, examined her self, took them off, rummaged through the drawer (of previously neatly folded clothes), choose a new pair, tried them on, couldn't find the matching shirt, took them off, put on the first pair, took them off, found another pair, settled for a shirt that kind of matched and put it on backward. All the while Rylee, who had put her pajamas on and gone to the top of the stairs, was calling to Reagan. "Come here Reagan."
"No." Reagan replied over and over in a low deadpan voice. She was focused and was not going to be interupted until she was propery attired.
Very fun to watch. Hard not to laugh.
I was having a very vivid dream this morning. I was dreaming that Reagan was talking to me. I was not sure exactly what she was saying, but I rarely am. It is usually more of a "best guess" approach to deciphering her speech. You repeat back whatever it was you thought you heard and she will then let you know if you are correct or not. It is kind of like a game show, because when you guess correctly she responds with a very animated "Yeah! Yeah! Yeah!" usually accompanied by jumping and arm waving.
So I was dreaming. Reagan was talking to me and then she put a cell phone to my ear, but I didn't speak into the cell phone. So she put the phone in front of my face and started rubbing it across the bridge of my nose. Then I woke up. Fortunately I didn't jump, because Reagan was in the bed. She had her left arm draped over my head and was holding something green. In fact when I opened my eyes I could see nothing but green. "That is too big to be a cell phone...What is that?" Then she answered my unasked question.
"Pee pee!" she piped.
"Give me that!" I said steadying the bowl that she was now holding over my left ear. Now with a bowl of urine in my left hand I found that I was tangled in the sheets and was unable to roll to the left to get my feet on the floor. So after about 60 seconds of trying to unsnarl myself without spilling the pee, I got myself free.
I lead Reagan to the bathroom to empty the bowl and wash hands, then on to the kitchen for an M&M reward and some milk. Even though it was still very early I could tell that there was no hope of getting Reagan back to bed. So I turned on the cartoons. This is kind of the morning routine for us. If it is very early the big girls will drink milk and watch cartoons quietly while we doze for a few more minutes. So I turned up the babies monitor, so I would hear if they woke up before I was up and about, and I returned to bed.
It seemed like two minutes later that Reagan was back on the bed. In reality I think she gave me about 35 minutes. Again there was a green bowl perched atop my left ear. This time I could smell it before I saw it. So I got up. I noticed that Reagan had changed out of her pull-ups, and I was regretting my decision to get 30 more minutes of sleep. Then I saw, as we walked out of the bedroom, that she had not been successful in keeping the waste in the bowl for the entire trip to show Dad. That meant that it had been dropped on the carpet, picked back up, and replaced in the bowl before it continued the journey to my bed. Now I started a closer inspection of my daughter and rushed her to the sink to wash her hands. I was also trying to recall if she had touched my face before I became totally awake. In the bathroom I found that she had tried to make it to the potty at one point and had left a large puddle on the floor. Sigh.
At that point I woke Kari up to give me a hand. The twins would be up any minute and they would need to be changed and fed. The big girls needed to be cleaned and fed and there were at least two messes that needed immediate attention. She was not very pleased.
What I want to know is why do the kids come get ME when there is poop? It doesn't matter what side of the bed I sleep on, the kids always come find Dad. How did I become relegated to the poop cleaner upper?