Parent Manuals Do Not Apply

I've finally figured out WHY I'm the Non Stepford Wife model.

Its my kids' fault. And, by DNA responsibility and other issues, my husband's.

But definitely the kids.

Lets start with the fact that there isn't a parenting manual in existence that deals with the issues I face on a regular/daily basis.

Take today for example. There isn't a parenting manual on the shelf that deals with potty training a la non-Stepford style. Princess has been 'sorta' trained for about a year. The 'sorta' parts come in when she will not ever wear anything on her butt. Initially, putting underwear on this kid had her screaming like I'd dipped her in acid. And not the funky hippie dream, Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds acid either.

Sooooooo, we let her go bare butt in the house. Never an accident.

But the problem arises when its time to go somewhere. Yes, even homeschoolers take their kids out. Occasionally.

Put a diaper on her, she uses it. Usually in the worst, smelliest, leakiest way possible. I know there are other moms that read this blog, so I know I don't need to get any more detailed than that. Same with disposable so-called training pants. Training my left foot! Only training that occurred was when I had to teach/train Wolf that they rip down the sides, you don't have to slide a poop filled training pants down her legs. Lets all take a moment for a group shudder at the visual that sentence produced. *shudder*

Until.

I found a no name brand disposable training pant that had PRINCESSES on it. From my Princess' all time favourite movie(s), Shrek 1-3. Well now. Defiling those were obviously a no-no. *cue angels singing*

Of course, me being me, didn't figure this out ahead of time, and neglected to buy out the entire in store stock (they were even on sale). However, the bridge between 'bare butt' and 'scream like a banshee' has been bridged, and she will wear underwear now. *cue angelic chorus*

But only if they're pink. With flowers. aka 'pretty'. *headdesk*

Sigh.

I figure that she'll be in normal underwear about a week before she turns 21, and then will be demanding thongs a week after THAT.

In the meantime, I have a three year old that appears out of nowhere, panties around her ankles, announcing "I pooped!", handing me a roll of toilet paper, and bending over. All my other kids had the grace to simply holler at the top of their lungs for help from the bathroom. Not her. *sigh*

Take that, parenting manual. Never read THAT being discussed.

Its not just my youngest either. Tazzie, at 4, has been known to listen to me, cock his head to the side with a puzzled look, and tell me, "I just can't visualize that, Mom." and walks off.

Seriously.

And, the most psyche scarring event of all occurred with Diva, my eldest daughter today. I.Had.To.Teach.Her.To.Shave.

I may never recover. I literally crawled into Wolf's lap, shaking.

(As an aside, why do men think the cure to psychological scarring is them receiving...uh...personal attention? Or is it just my dh?)

As my ever helpful husband said, "At least it was just under her arms. She could have been asking about bikini---" He wasn't allowed to finish that sentence.

Parenting manuals at the Non-Stepford home...best used as paperweights. Or to start fires...if we had a fireplace. *sigh* And I could use some help, dang it!!

Egg Addict!

Princess kills me

I had boiled eggs for egg salad yesterday. I made some for Wolf's lunch, and then was making some for mine (none of the kids like it...well, as far as I knew!) Princess has changed her mind...about boiled eggs, anyways.

I caught her on the couch with a boiled egg. She'd peeled just enough shell off to take a bite and loudly announced, "YUMM!" Apparently, she's had a change of heart about eggs.

For breakfast this am, she had the last boiled egg, and asked for another one, dragging the carton out of fridge. I explained that they weren't cooked, they were still raw, so she couldn't have them...and promised to make her some later.

Next thing I know, Princess is heading at me with a pot...with 2 eggs in it. One broken, one whole. "Egg NOW?"

I guess later had arrived

Now I'm hearing, "Egg ready yet?" every few mins.

She's gone from not being willing to touch them with a 10 ft pole, to being an egg addict!

Oh, The Drama!

Just a quick explaination as to why I've been MIA. For those new to my blog, I have RSD, which affects my entire right arm, shoulder to finger tips. Wolf's gone back to work as of Monday, which is a wonderful thing for us financially, and for him emotionally...but for me, its meant that I've been chug-a-lugging the meds the minute he hits the door and going to bed, so its seriously disabled my blogging abilities.

Moving on to the real post of today:

The Princess was walking along the edge of the brick raised planter thing the landlords put out front of our place shortly after we moved in. Something she's done a billion or so times before. Last year, they sawed off an evergreen that croaked, leaving a small stump. So of course, when The Princess fell for the very first time, it was towards the stump.

Thankfully, she wasn't hurt. Well. not in terms that you or I would consider 'hurt'. No gushing blood, no eyes missing, no puncture wounds, nothing needing an ER trip.

She does, however, have a scratch in the palm of her hand. About 2 inches long.
And we're out of band aids.

Well, lil Miss Drama Queen keeps looking at the palm of her hand, gasping, and moaning, "Oooooh! Ohhhhhhh!" and coming over for a cuddle, and mournfully pleading, "Ban aiy? Ban Aiy, Momma?"

I sent Diva to the store. I can't take it.

The Princess is now the proud owner of a Hello Kitty! bright pink band-aid, and all is right with the world again.
*sigh*

Holy Stubborn, Batman!

My youngest child has a stubborn streak that would have most in awe. I figure she got a double dose from both Wolf and I, because neither of us on our own are THAT stubborn.

Here's a perfect example:

This am, Princess decided to throw a fit over what game to play on the Little Leap system, howling and kicked at me. So, she gets her butt planted on the steps until she's stopped howling, and says, "Sorry, Mommy."

The howling stopped almost immediately...but do you think the apology would happen? *snort*

"Princess, say sorry, Mommy"
"Mmmm hmmmm" head nod.
"You have to say the words out loud. 'Sorry, Mommy'"
"Mmm hmmm"

Little turd. It wasn't til Wolf got home and she wanted off the step to see Daddy that she finally chirped, "Soree, Momm"

*sigh*