Monday, July 9, 2007

No Stinky Butts, a few jellyfish and beauty thy name is swimming pool

We have a new phrase. Stinky Butt. As in... you are a STINKY BUTT followed by gales of laughter. None of us, excepting the small persons who are uttering it, know where the phrase has come from and it is doubtful that the source will be revealed. It seems to be a handy phrase flung out during dinner, afternoon snack time and upon awakening. It also serves as an angry retort when affronted by someone snatching your favored toy. STINKY BUTT, obviously a classic. I'm sure it will go home with us.

Yesterday's jaunt into the ocean proved to be a risky venture in who could get nailed by a jellyfish. From Girl's perspective, children were falling like flies, crying and fleeing past her back to the beach house in search of meat tenderizer and safety as she was perhaps ...mid-step on the sand. I tried to play off the dramatic exits by telling her they must have had a "bad owwie." She just wasn't buying it. Yet another addition to her tally of why it makes no sense at all to go to the beach!

So, today's outing to the pool nearby was a raging success for all. Most especially for Girl who sat back in the shade at first, perched on a poolside chair. She ventured over with encouragement and went from sitting on the top step of the pool to launching herself into my arms from the side of the pool within minutes. A glorious sight of sparkling eyes, wet curls and laughter never far from her lips, she was back to being the GIRL that I recognized. Not as fearful, and once the confidence was achieved there was no ending the jumps into the pool. Let's do it again, Mommy. Let's do it AGAIN! She is the one to look out for. She gets herself worked up into such a state of euphoria, she would be the one to jump into the pool unattended. She couldn't get enough of the clear, cool water and was heard to say with wonder, there are no crabs and no sand in this water, beaming with self-satisfaction. It was reassuring to see that she is not afraid of water in general, but that it is specific to the ocean. I'm hoping that the trip to the pool will provide a bridge to venturing down to the ocean. Maybe. Maybe NOT.

I think yesterday was the all-time staircase challenge. After hearing excessive bellowing from the 4th level playroom, and determining it was my children, I raced upstairs to find Boy and Girl in the bathroom -both trying to set their bottoms on the toilet at the same time, both screeching: I've GOT TO POOP!! I placed Boy on the toilet, grabbed Girl and flew downstairs with Girl on my hip and placed her fanny on the toilet one floor below. I then left her there and raced back upstairs again to arrive in time to do the requisite butt wipe assistance needed for Boy. After helping him wash hands and pull up his shorts, I again sprinted down the stairs, arms flailing, back to Girl in time to assist her in the again [haven't I just done this!], requisite butt wipe and washing of hands. Whewww! Poops made it in the toilet! I am KING, no make that QUEEN of the awesome butt wiping MAMAS! We have NO Stinky Butts! I deserved a medal, but settled for a Crown Royal and Coke a few hours later. Thank YOU brother-n-law by marriage.


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