Thursday, February 14, 2013

Oh, Crap

We've been doing a Lenten calendar with the boys since HB loved the Advent one.  I just used a sheet of wrapping paper and drew out a large letter "L".  In the letter L are the 40 days (plus 7 Sundays) and we're using a plastic crucifix as our marker.  I've take a picture, but as of late have been delinquent in all my picture uploading.

After HB's party (again I took pictures but have failed in uploading them), Hubby and I "Spring" cleaned.  First we went through all the toys and discarded junky ones and donated good ones but that boys weren't interested in or outgrown.  Then we went through our own closet.  We discarded old shoes and then pared down our clothing.  I limited Hubby to 10 t-shirts, 10 short sleeve work shirts, and 5 long sleeve shirts.  We live in the dessert.  He doesn't really need that many shirts.  He protested naturally.  He felt like he should have enough short sleeve shirts to last him two weeks.  It was then that I reminded him that 10 work shirts would last him the 10 working days (ie two weeks) and that he could wear his t-shirts on the weekends (which he normally does).  Then I organized my end of the closet and got rid of stuff too.  Mostly things that had stains on it because you know, I'm around kids a lot.

Potty training is going.  The school is getting more active in it.  I still need to start working with him on underwear (not going in it and pulling it down) but we've been so busy this week.

Knee on the other hand went through "Dad's Sleep-through-the-night" bootcamp.  He's been doing fine with the night weaning.  We expect to reinstate "Operation Put-the-boys-to-sleep-in-the-same-room" over this weekend.  It's nice to sleep more than four hours at a time, but I still miss the snuggling and knowing if he had a bad night or not.  We still nap together.

And recently my oldest has picked up on words.  This evening after comedically running into the wall.  He would say "Oh, crap.  I hid my fore da head."  Translation:  "Oh, crap.  I hit my forehead."  Hubby said, "You do know where he gets that from don't you?"  Yes, I do.  My parents.  Well not exactly.  I say "Oh, crap." because my parents say "Oh, crap."  But it could be worse.  Hubby says a rated-R, four-lettered word that is a synonym of crap. 

Now if only I could convince my oldest to stop hitting people and head-butting people, we would be doing good.


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