Unanchored Thoughts

Bits and pieces of musings about family, friends, social issues, and whatever else travels through my head without a purpose.

Tuesday, February 24, 2009


According to Graeme, this is his current age. I'm not sure where he came up with this, but he repeatedly and randomly says things like,

"I'm a big boy. I'm 18."

"I can do this because I'm 18."

"I'm not 3, I'm 18."

As long as he doesn't ask to drive the car any time soon I think I'm OK.

Wednesday, February 18, 2009

Bathroom as a group activity

As with most parents of young children there is little privacy in my life and the bathroom is no exception. The one big sacrifice with this new house is that there is no bathroom on the main level. Graeme still needs help using the potty so when he has to go we all (Graeme, Ian, myself) make a trek upstairs. It usually goes something like this:

Mommy, I have to poopy.

Do you need help?


Graeme gets himself started and then...this is funny...when he was first learning to use the potty Steve would tell him to bend over after he did his business so that we could wipe. He couldn't figure out the bending over part so Steve told him to touch his toes. Much easier directions to follow. He still finishes his business, hops off the pot, and touches his toes....followed by some sort of commentary about the products of this activity. (Look two pieces. It's a big one. Wow.) Makes me chuckle.

Next I usually use the potty because dragging the whole family upstairs a second time around is too much of a production. Might as well get all the toilet needs of the family taken care of in one "sitting."

While I'm doing my business Ian usually proceeds to bash the toilet seat into my back. The first time he did this I jumped because, well, I wasn't expecting it and it hurt! He thought this was hysterical and now it's a game. While I urinate Ian repeatedly bangs the toilet seat into my back. Kind of jolts things out of you. I also usually spend half the time we are in the bathroom saying things like:

Keep you hands out of the potty.

No, yucky.

Bath toys stay in the tub.

Paper towels are for the floor.

No, not the whole roll of paper in the potty.

Once we are wrapping things up Ian will then go for the toilet brush and attempt to really clean things up for us.

This all takes a good 20 minutes or so, which in kid-time is a good chunk of time and a nice way to spend an afternoon.

I know, without a doubt, that I will be lonely when I eventually get to urinate on my own.

Wednesday, February 11, 2009

Free the babies!

Ian's room at school is in a big open space that is divided into two parts with baby gates. There are low "fences" that define the Infant and Toddler spaces and each is accessed via a babygate door. Well, last week Ian figured out how to open the gate and now regularly sets himself and any other baby accomplices free! He thinks it's a riot and to watch him open the door and "run" until he stumbles and falls down laughing is so adorable.

You're bugging me

G has a habit of climbing in bed with us almost every night between 2 and 4AM. I don't even wake up anymore. This morning he was moving around and kneeing me in the back and playing with my hair starting around 5:30. I tried to move his knees away from my side and brush his hands away from my hair, but it continued. I finally said, "G, stop it," which usually works. Instead, he responded, "Mommy, I'm going to daddy's side. You're bugging me." Well, excuse me!

Wednesday, February 04, 2009

Coconut on your eyeballs

What???? That's my reaction too. We seemed to have entered a new phase with G that, like all the others that precede it, mystify, frustrate, humor and challenge me. He constantly puts together nonsensical phrases like, "push hands cocoa bah" or "slide plant eyeball cocoa." They are really so meaningless that I can't remember the exact combinations, though many of them involve the words 'coconut,' 'eyeball,' and 'cocoa.' I assume this must be related to something he's seen on TV (Wonder Pets' experts, any thoughts?) or at school. I think it must be an attempt at humor and we all know that a sense of humor isn't one of my strong suits so it's a no wonder that I can't find this funny. I waver between ignoring him, telling him that he's not making sense, and returning the phrase with an exaggerated "that's CRAZY, coconuts on your eyeballs?!?!?" None of these serve to reduce the frequency with which he runs around shouting these things so I try to just roll with it. But, like the preference for shooter toys and power rangers I find myself ill-equipped to interact in a meaningful way.