In the woods with wolves

I am so not liking my monthly visits to the midwife.

It's not that I don't like the midwives, it's just such a hassle, and uneventful and really just ends up seeming like a waste of time. It takes me about an hour to get to the midwife's clinic, and most of that is freeway driving which I hate. I guess since this is my third pregnancy it's all just not as exciting this time as I remember it being before. I use to look forward to each and every visit, all the changes and listening to the baby's heartbeat, but now, I'm just thinking about how far behind the visit is making me and all the rushed work I am going to have to do when I get back home before I can plop my weary bum in bed. Plus I hate the scale, I don't have one at home, because, I Hate The Scale! Oh and I usually have to bring all three boys with me, alone, and that is just not fun. The appointments are at the end of the day, because I can't leave until after hours with my daycare, so by the time I get to the clinic I am burnt out and tired and quite frankly grumpy mommy. The mean one. The one that's had enough and just wants to go to sleep. I'm sure the midwives probably think I could take the prize for meanest mom in the world. I wish I could just skip the rest of the appointments and see them when I'm pushing, that's really when I will need them anyways. I just don't feel like anyone bothering me during this pregnancy, I am almost ready to run away and have this baby alone in the woods with the wolves people.

Now that I have said that, my having a home birth doesn't sound nearly as bad, puts things in perspective! I am looking forward to that part. I hope I will be able to have a home birth, especially since I seriously can't go anywhere with my boys, they get into everything, a forty minute visit at the clinic seems like it takes hours, and I can't go by that clock when I am in labor, 12 hours is long enough with out making it seem like 24.

What a ride...

OMGoodness, I was gone from Wednesday evening until Saturday morning! Away from my darling hubby and boys for way to long, I was starting to fall apart! I have never been away from them for that long before. The reason for the separation...my bestest friend in the whole world was working on having her baby, forever! It was overwhelming, and emotional and really practically indescribable.

Her water broke Wednesday morning, and her contractions got going pretty good that night, but when her midwife checked her she was still only two centimeters dilated. She was having a home birth so we were all hanging out at her place. The contractions continued on and off again all night and she tried all sorts of horribly uncomfortable things to get those contractions going. The next day was the same thing, on again off again contractions. Thursday night she was getting pretty burnt out, and the midwifes were worried about the fact that the contractions weren't staying consistent and she wasn't dilating and her water had been broken for a while by then, so we all talked about it and my friend and her husband decided that if the baby wasn't born by the morning time, we would go to the hospital. She tried everything, she was such a trooper, but Friday morning she still hadn't dilated any further and her contractions had stopped so they packed for the hospital. I stayed behind with their daughter until later and got to the hospital around 10 am. They started pitosen and we all started helping her deal with the contractions and encouraging her again, hoping that this would be it. She took no pain medication so that she could be as mobile as possible and try different positions and do lunges and squats to help move the baby down. Then the baby's heart rate started to fluctuate a bit. So they backed off of the pitosen and it went back to normal. They tried two more times to get contractions going with pitosen, then at around 3:30 am the doctors came in and said that there had been three serious heart fluctuations and that they could not longer continue to allow her to labor and that she would need to have a C-section. They gave her 20 minutes to prepare! It was so sad and stressful. She had tried so hard and she was so frightened to go into surgery. We cried and prayed together and then watch her be wheeled out of the room and then waited. And waited. And waited. The room was so eerily quiet after she left it was nerve wracking. Finally she was wheeled back into the room around 6:30 in the morning, with a beautiful baby girl and a husband who could barely breath, because of everything that he had witnessed in those two long hours. She had complications during the C-section because of a fibroid in her uterus the size of her baby's head! That might have been why she wasn't dilating because the baby couldn't get around the fibroid, and the fibroid was pushing her cervix to the side. She lost so much blood when they were trying to sew her back up, because of the fibroid, that she had to get a blood transfusion. It was terrifying. It was also hard to see her in so much pain and so sad, because I had to have a C-section with my first baby and I know how hard it is, and how much you hurt afterward. It's also really hard to accept that you weren't able to have the birth that you wanted. I am so thankful though that her and the baby are okay now, and she will heal, and she now has that baby that she worked so hard for. I am so proud of her, and amazed by her strength!

All of this happening while I am pregnant though...a little terrifying to say the least...trying not to get myself to freaked out about it. After that experience I feel like I could sleep a week and still not feel rested, so drained!

Fun in the sun, April style.

We had an awesome day at the beach on Sunday. It was nice out, and the boys really enjoyed exploring in the sunshine. Our favorite thing to do as a family is go exploring out in the great outdoors. We had a picnic and spent hours combing the beach for cool rocks, climbing on logs, looking for sea creatures, throwing rocks in the water and J's personal favorite, seeing who can hit the most seashells off of a log with rocks...my arm was actually sore from throwing so many rocks, we haven't played this game in a while (and I am a wimp). It was so wonderful to relax on the beach with my boys. I am a lucky girl. ~Daddy funny~ as Atty would say.

Come on Daddy, lets go exploring...

Look mommy there's an airplane in the sky.

Atty bravely walked up and down this log, sometimes he can seems so clumsy, and other times he amazes me with his balance.

Ewwwww...

Hanging out in a cool fort someone made on the beach out of drift wood.

Log climbing.

Brave little critter.

Bubu loves throwing rocks in the water, they all do. The bigger the rock, the larger the splash!

Daddy love.

Sunshine snuggles.

What did you find Uncle J?

Exploring the beach.

Atty decided that climbing on top of the fort was so much cooler then playing inside the fort.

So much fun in the sun!

Spring Shearing

It was time. Shaggy hair be gone. Bubu being the oldest and bravest went first. In his own words he was ready for his "ho-hawk" ...and boy does he sport a good fro-hawk! Technically not an actual mo-hawk, because I only spike the top, and the rest is shaved. I like it better that way on my boys. The orange on their faces is from the carrot juice my husband just made for them. That stuff stains!

Then there was Atty ready to go.

Ta-da! Red head fro-hawks are the best!

Then on to the littlest. Shaggiest of all!

Oh yeah! Spike of course had to have the tallest fro-hawk to live up to his nickname.

So there you have it, fro-hawk everywhere around here. If I end up having a girl this time around she might have to hide when mommy gets the itch to shave heads in the spring, or she might end up looking like the rest...ha, ha! Even my hubby got shaved, but no mo-hawk, maybe next time.

face as red as his hair

So I have come to the point in time with my boys were it is sometimes necessary to correct their behavior in public. Especially with Atty who seems to think that public embarrassment by way of tantrum is awesome. I being the mean mom I am do not give in to public displays of nastiness, and instead react the same way I would at home and follow through with what ever discipline is necessary. I'm fully aware that if I give in and allow them to act up in public, they will capitalize on this, and being as I am out numbered, the idea strikes terror to my core. That being said, there is something so awkward about correcting your child's behavior in public. The stares, and whispers. The murmured comments, I've even seen people pointing. We were at a home improvement store last weekend and right when we walked in and started putting the little boys in carts, Atty freaked out and decided he wasn't riding in a cart. Being as he is heavy carrying him wasn't an option for me. Letting him walk is a disaster with him at this point. So I needed him to sit in the cart. I tried to reason with him a couple times and then told him if he didn't sit in the cart he would get a time out. He didn't care, so I gave him a time out right then and there, and sent my hubby and the other boys to start there shopping. Now I know it's not pleasant to listen to a child throw a tantrum, and I myself defiantly wasn't enjoying it, as evident by the darkening red shade of my face, but I seriously don't need to be stared at during it all. It's so irritating. I looked up and the closest clerk was just full on staring at us, disapproving look and all, didn't even bother to look away when I glanced over at her. Atty continued to throw his fit for a moment then stopped and I asked him if he was ready to get in the cart, were as he said yes. The whole time this lady and anyone who happens to pass by is getting an eye full. So I attempt to put him back in the cart, and sure enough he starts pitching a fit again. So I tell him he will take a time out in the van if he doesn't stop (mostly because I want to run away and hide at this point) and he could care less. So then I have to carry him kicking and screaming, red faced to match his hair through the store, because the exit is located conveniently on the other side of the store. With everyone staring at me, and making comments. I truly know why people just give in, because it's absolutely humiliating to deal with the aftermath when requesting appropriate behavior. We made it out to the van, away from prying eyes, I buckled him into his car seat, shut the door and stood outside for a few minutes. He got the point, I got him into a cart out in the parking lot away from the audience, gave him a snack, went back in and all was good. He ended up falling asleep in the cart, which was probably half of the reason why he threw a fit in the first place being as he was tired. Although he has always caused problems when in a cart, he just hates being strapped in because he is such an active explorer.

The point of this post, if there is a point, is why do people feel the need to stare and criticize when a parent is only trying to get there child to behave. Obviously if a person is beating their child, or screaming degrading remarks at their child they should be stared at and hopefully someone would intervene for the sake of the child. I've overheard situations were I felt the parent wasn't dealing with things appropriately. I still don't make comments though, nor do I stare, in fact when I notice a parent reprimanding a child I look the other way. I give them as much privacy as being in a public place can afford. Nobody likes a wild undisciplined child running free in a store, so why stare and make the parent uncomfortable when they end up being in the position of having to enforce rules in public. Give the parent a break for trying to do there part. For trying to raise a well behaved child. Stop staring, and making mumbled comments, even if you think you can do it better.

Have any of you been in this situation, and what do you do to deal with it? Does it get to you, or do you let it roll off your back, and let it go unnoticed?

nakie time...no not for me...

My oldest is a nudist. I have lost all hope of this being a passing faze. Just keeping him in underwear is an on going struggle. I am afraid he will be answering the door in his undies as a teenager! He will be dressed one moment and streaking the next. We had a talk about modesty a while ago and how when you get older you have to learn modesty and wear clothes like mommy and daddy and just about everyone of your friends that don't feel the need to strip down on a regular basis. He seemed okay with this and would proudly tell people he was learning about modesty. It was really cute, and I though we were making some head way. Then for no reason I can understand it all came crashing down. He follows me around asking if he can be nakie. I say no. He asks why. I tell him. He asks why again. I firmly tell him it is not nakie time, (after bath I let the boys run around nakie, it might be there favorite time of day.) maybe later. He bursts into tears. Not throwing a fit crying, the kind of crying were I have destroyed his life and broken his heart. He runs to his room and bawls his eyes out, when he is done he will come out with his eyes all red and look at me with a reproachful look, sad to the core. Some days he will start in again with a sad lip trembling "why I can't be nakie?" I will remind him about modesty, and he will run back to his room to cry all over again. Then I just feel awful. I don't guilt easy. I'm a pretty tough mommy. It's just that I've always loved that he feels so comfortable with his body, and I hate to see him so confused and sad about why he can no longer have that freedom of running around in naked bliss. But he's almost four! All good things have to end some time. The other problem is that I have been potty training the younger ones and I let them be nakie cause it's easier that way and they potty train faster, and so he gets jealous of the little ones. Spike didn't run around nakie for long though because he's already figured out the potty thing and likes to wear underwear for the most part, thank goodness! Plus I have been more insistent with him that it is undies or diaper, because I can't handle another full time nudist. Atty, well I went back to diapers with him, because the potty training was getting frustrating and he has stomach issues he can't help right now, so I gave up for the time being. So there really are currently no naked babies running around and my oldest is still pining over his naked days. He admittedly spent the majority of him baby days naked, potty training days naked, little toddler days naked, he's just always wanted to be naked. Most of my pictures of him from his first couple years I can't show to many people, cause he's naked. I guess we just go use to it, and barely noticed he had no clothes on. Now I look back and think my goodness the child was never dressed! He just doesn't seem to feel comfortable in clothes. He still makes me cut all the tags off his clothes because they drive him crazy. If he has to be in clothes he would prefer pj's or his spiderman outfit. Nothing restricting. I seriously don't know what to do, I think I will have to resign myself to the fact that there is a very good chance my son with grow up and start a nudist colony.

Mice called bunnies.

We had a wonderful Easter. It was made even better by the fact that my husband got off work early totally unexpectedly, and was able to have the Easter egg hunt with us and dinner. Which was so wonderful. I am finally brave enough to post a belly picture, yikes! Crazy hair and all. I am trying to grow it out again, but I'll admit it's driving me crazy right now. Me and my big ol' belly. I don't know why I get so big so fast, but it's always been that way. Can you see why my midwife thought twins?!

Boys with their Neenee, my mom. She spend the night, because my friend was starting to have contractions, and we thought that she might have the baby, so I went over to her house. The contractions ended up stopping over night though, poor thing. It was nice to be able to spend Easter with the kids, even though it meant that my poor friend has to wait a little longer, and it was great that their Neenee got to be there too.

Atty stuffing his face with treats. Look at those big juicy chipmunk cheeks. So cute!

Ira was a good little egg finder. I did have to keep reminding him to look for eggs first before eating them, so that his brothers didn't end up with them all.

Easter family picture. I made every one dress nice for the dinner and we had a great time.

Our egg hunt ended up being in doors, because of course it was raining as it does on all holidays here in the NW. If you noticed the huge pile of laundry in the background it ended up being a great place to hide eggs, kinda like looking for a needle in a haystack. My couch gets lonely, so the laundry feels obliged to keep it company.

Atty looking for eggs. He made that bunny basket. Filled it up with lots of eggs, which I had filled up with dried fruit, nuts, and yogurt covered raisin, because I am admittedly a bit of a health nut. My poor kids. They did get some candy in there Easter baskets though, so they are not total deprived. Although I tend to put more trinkets and little toys in there then candy.

Ira loved this egg the most, didn't want to put it in the basket, carried it around instead. Silly kid.

Banden wanted me to take a picture of every egg he found, and he found a lot! It was funny. He was so proud of his finding skills this year. Kept telling me "I'm a great finder mom."

All of the kids made these cute bunny baskets this year. Although they ended up looking more like mice this time around for some reason. I think it's the whiskers, I'll have to use something different next time. I used something different for the whiskers last year and they looked a lot better. The kids had so much fun making them though. Ira went crazy with the decorations. The foam shapes were suppose to be just for the nose, but he had other plans. Anyways that was our Easter, hope you all had a great time too.

So...

I am excited to say...IT'S ONLY ONE! Boy was I relieved. The Tech didn't make me suffer either, because I was so nervous, so she told me right away. She also said the measurements put me at 15 weeks, I'm at 14 now, so that's only a week difference. Since my babies have always measured a bit big I'm positive I am only 14 weeks, and that I was correct about when I conceived. I am not sure why I measured at 17 weeks at my last midwife appointment, we will just have to wait and see what I measure at next time.

Also I am pretty sure it's a GIRL! I can't be 100% because it is early to tell, but the Tech said it was her opinion that it was a girl, and it looked like one to me too. I'm super excited about that. The baby also kicked really hard during the appointment, so hard that it moved the outside of my belly were the ultrasound equipment was, and the Tech was really shocked, she said she has never seen anything like it, and that it was like a 28 week kick! The baby started going crazy, moving around and kicking like wild. I don't think it liked the test so much. I had been saying that I was feeling some movement, starting from around 12 weeks, but I never expected anything like that! The baby was also trying to make it hard for us to see whether it was a girl or a boy, it was closing it's legs and putting it's hands down there like it was trying to cover up, we all started laughing really hard. I really feel like the baby is a girl, but I don't know if I can start calling it a girl, since I don't know for sure.

Anyways it's nice to know there one big baby swimming around in this tummy of mine, and I can't help but be excited about the good possibility that it is a girl.

Today's the day!

Alright today's the day...today I go in for the ultrasound that will tell me whether I get to keep my sanity or not, well what's left of it anyways. My husband actually got the day off, they never tell them until the day before. So it was a total surprise when he told me last night that he could go with me, I wasn't counting on that at all! I think Bubu might go too, he invited himself. I am still trying to convince myself that it is only one, if I am right I will be the only one who thinks there is only one. Everyone else seems to have already decided it's twins. I think they just want to see turn into a babbling mess.

So I've got my fingers crossed, I am envisioning one cute big baby on the screen, but I have to admit I am a nervous wreck. I'll let you all know...if I am not too much of a babbling mess.

What a mess...

So the last few days have been overwhelming to say the least.

On Saturday I picked up J from visiting with his sister on spring break. The situation at his mom's house has been going from bad to worse, especially now that she is so sick. It has gotten to the point were he is having to endure continuous verbal abuse and neglect. He has all F in school, has recently been suspended, was with friends that were stealing and on and on and on. It's just an all around bad situation for him. So we felt he should come back and live with us. He had been with us for 6 1/2 years before going back to live with her last June. Half of his life time. I was raising him longer then I have been raising my own boys. We thought she understood and that she would let it happen. We were hoping that there was one little part of her that wasn't selfish and would understand that J living with her was not in his best interest. Instead she stopped answering the phone when my husband called and then on Monday with out saying anything to us first she called the school he was going to there and told them that we took J with out her permission. So I, still oblivious to all this, signed him up at school here, got him all set, talked to the counselor about the fact that he had previously been diagnosed with Aspergers while living with us (something his mom refuses to acknowledge.) and we left. I had some errands to run and then when I got home I had a message from the school here that there was a question about guardianship. We happen to have an open agreement, notarized between his mother and Ryder and I giving us the ability to make decisions regarding school, medical and such from before. So the school here didn't know what to do. Then my mom called and told me that J's mom called her and wasn't making much sense (she is on HIGH doses of pain meds.) and that she was saying we didn't tell her we were taking J (not true) that we had never talked to her about it (so not true) and that she had called the police. What! Keep in mind she was not answering the phone when we called or calling us, just everyone else. So then I really started to stress out, and ended up with the worse migraine headache ever. Ryder ended up driving all the way to her place over an 1 1/2 hours away after working a ten, just to try and figure out what was going on. She apparently has changed her mind, and he didn't get anywhere with her when he was trying to explain why J shouldn't be there. She just wouldn't listen. So Tuesday I wasn't able to get his school totally figured out, they were still consulting their legal team. I tried to figure out our legal options, but the only thing I could do was file a report about the abuse and neglect with the State. Apparently if a case worker gets involved then he might be able to be place with us as a relative placement, but there wasn't anyway to get a relative placement order with out doing that step first. Last night we had to make the tough decision to send him back with his mom, because he couldn't miss any more school and I couldn't determine how long it was going to take to get him set up over here. The point of him coming here was to do what was in the best interest of J, and it is not in his best interest to miss any more school. It was so hard to let him go, knowing what he will be going through again. He is so sensitive too, although he tries so hard to hide it. I told him not to internalize what she is saying to him, and to stay strong. I let him know that I will always do what I can to take care of him and protect him and I will always be here for him. That he can always call me at any time. When he was leaving I gave him a big hug and told him that I love him more then life it's self, and he said "Hey that's what you wrote on my blanket (which he sleeps with every night, even brought it with him here) and I could barely choke back the tears when I told him to keep sleeping with that blanket and always remember those words. This situation is tearing me apart, and I feel so inadequate and unable to do right by him. Yesterday my mom reminded me that I have to let go and leave it in Gods hands, and I know that, but it's so hard.

I braved it alone...

I did it.

Grocery shopping alone with three little boys.

OMGoodness. I had so many errands to run yesterday. So we started off going to Lowes for some gardening stuff, because the sun is starting to peak out around here! They did fairly well there, one buckled in, one in the basket part of the cart and one walking. Then on to the library to drop of books before they sent out a search party. Then I thought I would take them to a park for snacks and play time before attempting the...(drum roll please)...Grocery Store. So I piled them all out at a park we don't normally go to, and it was a disaster. There were a bunch of older kids there, playing tag, and they were just running all over everything and I was afraid they were going to trample one of the boys. At one point when Atty was trying to cross this rope bridge thing, another much bigger kid went over it, and poor Atty went flying off! The older kid didn't do it on purpose, but I'll admit I glared. So anyways I bundled them back up into the van, and promised another park to appease them. We went to this great park that I should have gone to in the first place. It's much smaller so it's less stressful, and easier for me to keep tabs on the little ones. They had a lot of fun. Although by this time I was already feeling a bit burnt out and since I hadn't been able to leave when I wanted to (a whole different story involving J who is now at our house.) it was close to lunch time. The grocery shopping had to be done though so off we went, worse time of the day with hungry tired little boys and a hungry tired mommy. The babies were sleeping by the time we got there. J was with us, but refused to get out of the van, so I had no choice but to face my fears hungry, tired and alone, I plan so well. I was close to tears a few minutes in. I grabbed two carts and buckled Spike into one, put a sleepy Atty in the basket part of the same cart and Bubu walked while I pulled the other cart behind me. Of course Atty woke up as soon as we started shopping and started crying. I had snacks in the back pack as always so I gave him the whole bag of his animal crackers, and the box of regular animal crackers to Spike. That helped until they started throwing them. I don't know if this happens to any of you with lots of small kids, but some people can be so rude. The stares are annoying enough as it is, but some people will actually give me nasty looks. Or act impatient with me as I am struggling around with my hands full. I don't let my children run amuck, or scream non-stop, or be rude to others. I am stern with them, I keep them under control, we try to be as polite as possible. I just don't get it. There was only one lady that was super sweet to me, she was older and wanted to stop and talk to me and the boys. She was so nice and understanding that I almost cried. Embarrassing. Anyways we made it through the whole store and by the time we were heading for check out I could barely steer and pull the overflowing cart at the same time. I'm sure we were quite the sight. The boys really did very well, I was proud of them. Spike started to melt down while we were waiting our turn in line, but recovered in time. I paid, and heading for the finishing line, feeling extremely exhausted, and on the verge of tears, but super proud of my boys. They all got some black licorice after they were safely buckled in. Piled in the groceries, collapsed into my seat and sighed a huge sigh of relief that we all made it out alive. Had to make one more stop, but it was a super quick one so I left the boys munching licorice with J. I had more things I had wanted to get done, but we had all hit a wall so we headed for home. Of course when I got home I still had a super messy house to clean, so that's when the tears really started to flow, pregnancy hormones took over and I sobbed my way through a mountain of dishes.

My sweet, sweet hubby did say that he would rather do the shopping for me on his way home from work then me having to do that again. I might take him up on that, although he just doesn't seem to be able to get the deals the way I can, and he always forgets something, or I should say many things. Practice makes perfect though right. I make a habit of taking on more then I should, I do need to continue learning to let go. It's a hard one for me, being the control freak that I am. ;)

uno or dos?

So peoples, I am going in next week sometime to figure out whether it's uno or dos in this tummy of mine. As I said in the other post I was going to wait until my 5 month ultrasound, but my hubby and just about everyone I talked to thought differently. So I gave in. Truthfully the more I think about it, the more I need to know. So much for patience. I looked back at pictures from when I was prego with Bubu and Spike and I really don't think I look much bigger, but my midwife is going by the measurement of my uterus not the over all size of my belly. For some reason I get big early and then slow down toward the end, opposite of most of the people I know. My belly just gets flat out gets huge, I have big babies, as in 10 lbs 10.5 ounces and 10 lbs 3 ounces, solid little critters. With both Bubu and Spike I have pictures were I am holding them up to my stomach when they are a couple days old and I am trying to figure out how they even fit in there. Bubu was breach and his big ol noggin was shoved up into my ribcage, and when you look at the picture of me holding him in the position he was in my tummy it seems like an impossible fit! I would put those pictures on here, because they are funny, but I look beyond wretched in them, having just had a baby, so you will just have to imagine it. Bubu ended up as a C-section, Spike was an all natural water birth at my midwifes clinic and this one (if it's just one) I am hoping for a home birth. Well see.

So I will give you all an update after the ultra sound. I cannot even wrap my brain around the possibility of two, and truthfully I don't know how I would ever manage. So I have convinced myself that it is again one big baby, sort of...

At least that's not stinky.

So my day started out with a poop filled toilet overflowing. Yeah. I had to run to the other bathroom at the other end of the house to grab the plunger, and then sprint back to the bathroom that now had sewage flowing out into the hallway. Nice. 15 nasty, have to bleach repeatedly, towels later and I now have one sparkly bathroom. Every square inch disinfected.

...But then less then an hour later while talking on the phone I glanced over at Tank who I am still trying to get potty trained and he had taken off his underwear and was in the process of pooping on the ground. Uuuugggggggg! Good thing I have a trusty carpet cleaner, I don't know what I would do with out that thing honestly. I feel like I have reached my nasty quota, for the week anyways. Just to mention, both poop filled incidence involved Atty, go figure.

Since this post seems to be all about poo, let me just say that my youngest is 21 months and is almost entirely potty trained, wears underwear except when sleeping and rarely has accidents. Bubu was potty trained completely by 19 months. But Atty, well I have a feeling I will be still changing his diapers when he's four. Part of it is due to the fact that he has sever food sensitivities that cause lots of tummy troubles for him, so he doesn't always seem to know when he is going to go potty, it just happens. The other is he truly doesn't seem to care where he goes, he just lets go where ever he happens to be. Doesn't say a word, until he's done anyways. It's so frustrating. I try not to get too irritated by it, because I know full well that sort of attitude just makes it worse, but good grief. Needless to say he's back in diapers for the day, cause my tolerance for all things messy, is border line at best right now.

Which means that I probably should cancel the finger painting project we are about to do, but at least that's not stinky.