Monday, February 28, 2011

Tub Poop

It started out being funny, but now it's just a pain in the A.
How do I get Elle to stop pooping in the tub? I knew she had to go tonight, I kept taking her out of the tub and putting her on the toilet but she wouldn't go. But sure enough, she took a big 'ol poo in the tub moments after getting back in.

Any tips would be helpful!


Monday, February 21, 2011

Mother of the Year




I pretty much let Elle play with anything (knives and guns aside). Before you call children’s services on me, know that it’s always supervised, but, in hindsight, there are some things she probably shouldn’t play with. For example, beads off of a broken bracelet. But the thing is, when she grabs them, she knows she’s not supposed to have them, and she gives them to me. I know she just as easily could put them in her mouth and choke, but she doesn’t. So there.

She did however choke once, on a cracker that I normally broke in half for her, but my husband didn’t know that, and she started to choke. In the dressing room of Banana Republic. With me screaming “Call the ambulance!!!” And my husband tipping Elle upside down to dislodge the cracker. Good times.

Side note: not my fault. I didn’t feed her the cracker.

Anywho, tonight, I let her play with her empty bottle of bath bubbles, it had a little water left inside, she tipped it upside down, drank the soapy water, gagged, coughed, and puked up her dinner.

Mother of the year, FTW! (For the win, dad...)

Cue lecture from my husband about how I let her play with things she shouldn’t play with.

I hate to have such a negative attitude about it, but honestly, if I only let her play with baby toys I’d get nothing done because I’d be taking things away from her left and right. Except knives and guns - I take those away from her. Duh.

Sunday, February 6, 2011

Elleanor is a snarky little girl.

Today is Bryan's day to sleep in. One of us sleeps in on Saturday and the other on Sunday. She's been asking for him; "dada? dada?" and I respond "daddy's sleeping, he'll be up soon."
She has taken matters into her own hands and is throwing her toys down, on the hardwood floor, not in an angry way, but more in a "oops, my hand slipped and oh look, there goes my heaviest toy crashing onto the hardwood floor.... gee, I hope that didn't wake up dad."

Here's the thing. She didn't learn that from me. If I want to wake up Bryan I just go and wake him up.

You know who is really great at behavior like that though, the elder Eleanor.

Yup. Grandma Ellie is the queen of the "oh, I didn't do that..." or the "oh, I'm sorry, did I wake you?" she can pull it off because she then follows it up with "here, let me make you some homemade french toast, eggs, sausage, fruit, orange juice, waffles, pancakes, coffee.... what, your full? but I'm just about to make lunch!"
And then she hands you your clean clothes that you had no idea she took to wash but, wait a minute, she ironed your underwear and oh my gosh this is amazing, everyone should iron their underwear! And before long you've forgotten that she purposely slammed 3 doors to wake you up because, although you are 10 lbs heavier, you have the cleanest underwear this side of the Mississippi.


Wednesday, February 2, 2011


Aside from having to read this book while bathing she now takes a book with her when she squats to poop. Her squatting spot is in the kitchen, under the breakfast bar. I'm thinking that toilet training isn't that far off.

If the look on her face says "Get me out of this $&%^*ing thing" to you then you'd be correct. She hated it. The end.