Brace Yourselves Everyone!

4:25 PM

Hurricane Rita (AKA Gamma Rita) will be touching down at roughly 5:40 PM EST today. Wet kisses watch is in full effect.

– Hurricanes is no match for us.
– We is tough guys, everyone!

RAWR!!!*

These pics are from Gamma Rita's visit last summer (AKA the "Summer Of Love"). I was trying to get a couple nice shots of my guys in their new dinosaur ("DINE-SOAR!") shirts, but like 95% of the photos I take they ended up looking like this. Nate and Seth really wanted to go for a walk and weren't interested in waiting.

We never did manage to catch them standing still.

- L.

*"RAWR!" is our very favorite new noise to make. Things that "RAWR" include the above mentioned "dine-soars", but also lions and tigers and bears. Also, pigs, cows, cats, dogs, birds, sheep, horses, monkeys, roosters, and goats. In fact, pretty much everything says "RAWR!" lately.

Except for elephants. I guess it's nice to know some things are still sacred.

It's Beginning To Look A Lot Like Christmas...

... or at least it was. Looks like I'll be re-decorating the tree tomorrow, but it was worth it.

When the tree still had ornaments on it:

Of course, that didn't last long:

Never underestimate "the long arm of the Seth".

 The floor ended up nicely decorated at least:

Dude, I is *so* going to tell Mommy you did it. 

Tallying up the wares:

Lots and lots of wares:

Final check in case we missed anything: 

Taking a well-earned break:

Out-of-focus and everyone is a blur on top of that. Still, I kind of like this photo. It sums up the general level of chaos rather nicely:

– L.

Summer of Love: The Yogurt & Spoons Edition

True confessions: I wasn't brave enough to go it alone with messy foods and spoons, so I waited until Gamma Rita's visit last summer to try it out. The following pics are from some early days with yogurt...

Nate in the throes of perfecting his reverse-spoon technique when I suddenly sensed something was up:

Something not right here, everyone.

Turns out he was sitting next to the Colonel the whole time:

Spooky! 

- L.

PS. We haven't moved on much in terms of our spoon technique, although I am able to manage yogurt on my own okay enough now if I remember to take a few deep breaths first. Oatmeal on the other hand might have to wait until the boys are college bound.

This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things

A few posts back I was feeling a bit at the end of my rope over the broken dresser in the nursery – partly because it was a fairly new purchase when we moved this past August, and partly because I'd done some Googling™ and read some not so great reviews regarding IKEA customer service* when it comes to garnering replacement parts – neither of which would have phased me too terribly had it not been for the wake of general destruction here of late.

It's been fairly relentless.

Just when I think I've finally gotten a step ahead of my boys, they let me know every single time that I am in fact two steps behind.

But tonight I am feeling a step ahead again and even though I know it will not last, I am taking advantage of my improved point of view to offer up a retrospective of some of Nate and Seth's most recent hijinks.

This was how the dresser drawer looked after I managed to wrestle it out of the dresser last week:

We have child-safety latches inside all the drawers that were initially installed to prevent pinched fingers, but they have served us well as drawer stops too. Mercifully, my boys haven't actually figured out how to defeat the latches just yet, so springing one must have been a happy accident.

Happy for them, I mean.

It was pretty obvious from surveying the aftermath that the next thing they did was to climb into the lower drawer. And then possibly they jumped around.

I was in the next room tidying up the kitchen and folding some laundry and apart from the typical noises one would expect to hear from the nursery I didn't hear a thing.

Of course, that is typical of most of their shenanigans.

It all started with this a few months back: 

This used to be the box from a box-set of Dr. Seuss books.

OK, that's not entirely true. Technically, it all started with this: 

The infamous play-bucket version of PooBucket™, featured here rather innocently on a lower shelf for easy play access.

Which was used thusly to procure books from the top shelf:

Of course, Seth's first love once again headed for higher ground and just to be on the safe side, I pushed all the books toward the back of the shelf.

I patted myself on the back a little over that one, but my boys sent a message only a few days later.

It looked like this: 

And clearly said, "we might not be able to reach the books, but we can still reach the top shelf quite nicely, silly Mommy". 

Of course, they also left a trail of incriminating evidence, which led to this:

Bye-bye drawers. Your storage capacities have served us well, but you were never intended to be a ladder for my children.

No pats on the back this time though.

This all happened around the time "MAG-ZINES!" appeared on the scene. The magazines appeared to provide a way to satisfy my babies' penchant for tearing paper without damaging their books, which they were suddenly (and unexpectedly) really into.

It worked out great at first.

You know, until it didn't.

I would leave the room with my boys happily tearing up magazines to make lunch or what have you and come back to find them tearing up their books instead.

Things I never thought could be used to stand on were used to stand on, and my boys? Well, they work fast is all I can say.

Now I am the proud owner of a box of torn up books sitting in my living room waiting for repairs which I've had neither the time nor the inclination to repair – although admittedly, it's the inclination that's lagging more than time constraints. In all fairness, fixing things that are only going to get broken again gets discouraging after awhile.

Either way, the top of the dresser is getting pretty cluttered with toys that can only be played with when there is an adult in the room. I have to say, the Fisher Price farm probably surprised me the most (at least at the time). 

All of which brings me to this: 

No one needed a height advantage for our latest shenanigan. And in case you were wondering how much trouble a couple of toddlers get up to with a handful of puzzle pieces... 

... now you know. 

*sigh*

– L.

*IKEA customer service handed over not one, but two new rails without question. I'm not sure if we just got lucky or if no one writes about the easy time they had getting replacement parts at IKEA, but if it's the latter now someone has. No one even asked to see our receipt.

Then And Now

Having written recently about losing the cloth love of late, perhaps it was no small coincidence that I came across some never before published photos and videos during my attempts at proper archiving* earlier this week.

We've been using cloth since the boys were big enough to fit into the smallest size diapers that I'd bought. I think my guys were around 6 weeks old at that point. The smallest diapers I had on hand were intended for a minimum 7-8 lb. baby.

The first time someone pooped in one I wondered what I'd gotten myself into.

It took a day or so and a wash cycle (3 wash cycles to be more accurate**) to realize it was probably doable.

And it was.

And for the most part I was glad we were doing it even at the time. We saved a lot of money and once I had a routine down (which happened surprisingly quickly) it really didn't feel like extra work.

Except lately it kind of does.

I think there's at least a few obvious reasons:

1. Toddler poop vs. baby poop. You would think poop is poop, but I assure you not all poop is created equal. Toddler poop is it's own special entity. Phrases like "peanut butter poop" were coined to describe this phenomenon. I've probably already said too much so I'll just leave it at that.

2. The boys are well into 2 year sizes and at this point clothing manufacturers pretty much quit making clothing for a bulky diaper bum. We tend to buy from the Gap, mostly because their clothes are great for skinny babies/toddlers, but lately what is baggy everywhere else is oddly snug around the hip with cloth diapers.

3. The overall diaper malfunctions since last summer are not boding well. "Uh-oh. Raisins." was kind of a clincher.

Lately my toddlers babies have been showing some vague signs of being ready for potty-learning. I already know the ticket is in getting one of them to do something, so I don't have to get both on board so much as one on board strongly. I'd wager a guess at this point over who it will be, but I'm almost always wrong when it comes to stuff like this so I'll refrain. It really doesn't matter who goes for it first – the main thing is my unwavering belief that the other will follow suit with minimal effort on my part simply because they like to keep pace with each other and are keenly interested in what the other one is doing.

So maybe with all that said, it was more than fortuitous timing that I came across those nearly forgotten photos earlier this week.

It didn't re-inspire the cloth love per se, but it did make me want to have what might very well be a last hurrah, which I did.

Just in case.

Without further ado, the OP nostalgically presents: 1 year ago in our brand new pocket-stuffed diapers...

Checking out an equally new mitten for the first time.

Chewing on a favorite toy because the perpetual teething was already well under way.

Plotting the great "Penaten Caper". 

Plotting a variety of future capers which seems obvious now but at the time I was all, "Awhhh! Nate is reaching for stuff he can't reach yet. How cute!". 

• • • • • • •

1 year later. Same diapers, same babies, different (and yet also kind of the same) hijinks: 

They only look peaceful because I've given them some previously not-allowed magazines. They are pretty obsessed with "MAG-ZINE!" by the way. Usually they get Grandma Leslie's throw away Chatelaines or an old IKEA catalog. This time I offered up two design periodicals from my private stock. The only thing better than "MAG-ZINE!" is "Mommy's MAG-ZINE!" so they sat kind of still for a couple of photos at least. 

Until we got an urge to stretch. 

Followed by some climbing. 

Followed by even more climbing. 

Followed by everyone wanting to get in on the action, which kind of cut our camera time short since these were not the most sturdy perches to be hanging out on. Also the scent of shenanigans was in the air. 

Is like hurricane blew through here, everyone!

Surveying the aftermath of "MOMMY'S MAG-ZINE!". Even though you can't see the debris in any of the photos, there was an extended period of destruction after the first two shots were taken.

– L.

PS. There's a new video on our YouTube™ channel with clips from last year and clips from last night. Shenanigans and cuteness abound. I threw in the toddler tantrum at the end to kind of balance things out. Enjoy!

PPS. A follow up regarding the "Uh-oh, Raisins." incident since you may have noticed a bit of funny business going on in at least one of the pictures further up this post with an ill-fitting diaper.

Here is a better look at what I mean: 

With the exception of last night's trip down memory lane, Seth hasn't worn these particular diapers in several months. He's a pretty skinny guy and at some point it didn't seem to matter how much I adjusted the rise, the leg would gape. It's odd that these fit him so well as a baby and not now – but this pic does make it pretty easy to see how some "raisins" might end up on the floor and how pants would wind up soaked 30 minutes after a diaper change.

Obviously, a less dramatic version of this is happening with the other style of pocket diaper I have for Seth that I thought were a snug fit. Or maybe they were a snug fit and it's just time to go begging for sandwiches again. 

• • • • • • •

*Getting my game on with proper backups is yielding a bumper crop of undiscovered pics, so don't be surprised if there are a few more posts of this variety coming your way.

**Washing cloth diapers generally takes 3 cycles through the machine, plus a cold water pre-soak in the infamous Poo-Buckets™. It was a little faster at our previous residence, but we have better machines where we live now (even though it takes a little longer).

Generally speaking – since everything comes out in the wash (bad pun intended) this was our typical routine:

• 30 minute pre-soak in cold water 
• 1 short cycle cold wash with pre-rinse stinkies remover (35-45 minutes) 
• 1 long cycle hot wash with diaper-friendly detergent (Rock'n Green got the job done where others fell a bit short) and a splash of bleach (upward of an hour - closer to two hours at the new place if I use the sanitize cycle) 
• 1–2 rinses (20-35 minutes) 

At minimum it's been a 2 hour and 45 minute commitment every other day. Sounds a bit crazy on top of the copious amounts of regular laundry, but it really wasn't a hassle somehow. Although I expect this fully explains why there is almost always a washer or dryer as background noise in nearly all of our videos.

Summer of Love: The Combat Baby Edition

"[It was...] kind of like a carnival. There was always something going on."

– Gamma Rita, when asked upon returning home about her visit here last summer.* 

• • • • • • •

A small preface: my boys broke their dresser tonight beyond a simple repair. As much as this will probably be a story in it's own right at some point, tonight I'm pretty unhappy about the whole thing and not in a mood to blog about it.

Instead I bring you pics and a video from destructive times past (AKA "The Summer of Love"), which I'll admit I found funny even then.

Pretty much my exact reaction when I saw the busted dresser tonight.

* Gamma Rita speaks the truth, although I must say unexpected trips down memory lane (carnival notwithstanding) are sometimes unexpectedly nice, especially on a lousy night.

- L.

PS. If destruction is your thing, our latest video is here. Our theme song (and by that I mean the one I hear in my head at times like this) is found separately here (apologies if there's an annoying ad first since I got one randomly – but if so, you can elect to skip it rather quickly).

Uh-oh. Raisins.

I will start by saying that the nursery has in recent times found itself peppered in raisins due to a few snack-time mishaps. I never end up finding them all on the first go and certainly not before a few get mashed into the rug. Or onto the bottom of the infamous blue shoes. It's not entirely beyond the pale to find a pressed raisin inside a book days later.

Therefore, I wasn't terribly surprised to hear someone saying, "Uh-oh. Raisins." when I walked into the nursery just prior to lunch today.

My guys were even pointing at the "raisins", so it really cut down on the guesswork of having to find them.

Which was very thoughtful really.

Because those "raisins" they were so keen on showing me were most definitely *not* raisins.

To be fair what I found might have started out as raisins at one point – like maybe yesterday since we all ate raisins – except today's findings were more like the bi-product of yesterday's snacks if you catch my drift.

Uh-oh raisins, indeed. 

• • • • • • •

As you might already know, I've been a bit of a cloth diaper enthusiast. By the time my babies weighed 7 lbs. (or close enough for the newborn stash I'd bought to actually fit) it was game on. My main reasons were not the most altruistic - to be honest, it was mostly about saving money. And cloth did that for us. It was a huge money saver. Sticking my hands in a bucket of poopy water every other day wasn't the most fun thing I've ever done, but it didn't really bother me. I even weathered through a few weeks 2 summers ago without a dryer and a washer that was on it's last legs and at the time I felt like I managed it rather well, despite my frustration over our busted appliances.

Cloth was definitely the ticket for us for the first 18 odd months.

During that time, we never had a single diaper blow out. I have no amusing stories to tell about poop that shot across the room due to a gaping leg-hole. A wool soaker took care of things when it was clear the boys needed a little extra coverage for overnight pee.

But then a few things changed around the 18 month mark.

We suddenly had some major leaks which resulted in some fully soaked pants even on surprisingly short outings. I wondered if it was the diapers – or rather diaper build-up since my washer was not the best even after it was fixed. In the interim we tried out some disposables. To be fair, we had some leaks with those as well and again on surprisingly short outings (less than 2 hours), but they overall did a better job and after experimenting with a few different brands the problem seemed to sort itself out. I was now 100% on the sposie bandwagon for outings. No regrets.

Of course, our cloth overnight solutions were suddenly failing around this time as well, so disposable overnight diapers it was – and has been ever since. Also no regrets.

I thought I had everything back on track. Disposables for outings and overnight and cloth the rest of the time. It was a great plan until at least a month or so ago. 

• • • • • • •

And here is the part where I admit today was not the first time we've had an "Uh-oh. Raisins." moment while my boys were wearing cloth.

It's actually the second time.

Only a few select people heard about the first incident for reasons that will become obvious, although I *did* take a picture so I at least thought even at the time that it might be something I would mention here at some point.

And I guess that time is now because for the first time I'm second-guessing the cloth love. Surprisingly, it was those few dried turds on the floor today that may have finally pushed me over the edge and not the horrorshow of embarrassment I'm about to share.

Go figure.

Since I imagine you are on tenterhooks at this point, this is the the true story of what happened – the story that up until now I've typically referred to as "The Incident" in closed circles. 

• • • • • • •

The boys and I were getting ready to head out. This included a diaper change, but before I even had a chance to pull out the goods I heard:

"Uh-oh".

And there was Seth pointing at something on the floor (and fortunately it was actually on the floor and not the nursery carpet). Unlike the "raisins" incident it was immediately obvious that it was poop and rather soft poop at that.

I must have stood there for a full minute with a dumbfounded look on my face while various improbable scenarios went through my head.

Everyone still had pants on, so how did a rogue poop end up on the floor? I briefly contemplated the possibility that someone had managed to drop their trousers, take a quick floor poop and somehow managed to not only pull their pants back up but also do up all the snaps on their diaper. That would be a pretty incredible feat you'd have to admit.

But of course that's not what happened.

There was really only one possibility with everyone still wearing their pants: poop escaped the diaper, shuffled itself down a pant leg and ended up on the floor. 

I am like the Sherlock Holmes of poop crimes.

After the initial shock wore off I solved the big mystery and cleaned everyone up, we headed out.

Of course, what I'd failed to notice during the clean-up phase was the second escapee.

You know, the one I ended up stepping in.

The one that inevitably ended up stuck to the bottom of my sock.

The same sock I then sat against as I was kneeling to get the boys changed and dressed to head out. 

• • • • • • •

Fortunately before we left the house, I did find that second poop. I also concluded that I'd stepped in it (since it most definitely looked stepped on at that point), so naturally I changed my socks.

Of course, I never thought to check my pants.

And then we were off!

The early fall weather was certainly lovely this year, so no jacket required. Just a waist-length shirt and my ill-fated pants.

While we ran all of our errands.

With my butt on full display.

Covered in poop. 

None of which looked the least bit like raisins.

• • • • • • •

It was at least an hour after we got home before my hand somehow ended up grazing the back of my pants.

At which point a million hopeful scenarios went through my head. My favorite being dried strawberry jam that had somehow found it's way onto the back of my pants after breakfast.

Of course, I knew even before I saw it with my own eyes what it really was. The hopeful scenarios were just my brain trying to come up with anything that would make it not be that. 

Because it was that and then some.

And I walked around my neighborhood for a full 90 minutes with poop slowly drying on the back of my pants and everything on full display.

Mortified after the fact doesn't even come close to describing it.

Still, after my initial reaction, I guess it's a good thing I found something to laugh about despite everything even at the time.

Otherwise I never would have taken this picture to complete the overshare of this post: 

This is what a Mother's love looks like everyone.
Metaphorically speaking, of course.

As much as I'd like it to be, that is not raisins you're looking at.

It is however the dried remains of exactly what you think it is.

- L.