Wednesday, February 15, 2012

Code P

As I was tucking the kids in to bed tonight, Dax told me I needed to step out of the room for a minute.  Apparently his privates were not feeling so good and he needed to take a look and make sure he hadn't injured his nether regions.  When I came back in a minute later and asked if everything checked out ok he said "Yeah I think so.  But if it still hurts really bad when I'm at school tomorrow I'm calling you to come and get me."  "Ok..." I said "So are you just going to stand there in the office and say 'Mom, come and pick me up.  My weiner hurts!"  He laughed for a minute and then said "No Way!  We better come up with something.  I know!  I will just say 'Code P!'"  "Code P?" I asked.  "Yeah you know...for penis."

All I can say is its a good thing Asiel is working from home tomorrow.  I think I will send him to the school to explain to the office ladies what Code P means. :)

Monday, February 6, 2012

My fifteen minutes of bliss

My blog has been highly neglected over the past few weeks.  We have been home from Florida for almost a month and have had at least one sick family member ever since.  We spent a week with the stomach flu (that was not fun...and resulted in a lot of laundry...which resulted in an old dryer that finally gave up the ghost...which resulted in a sweet new dryer off ksl...score!).  We spent a couple weeks with strep.  We spent lots of days in between with snotty noses and a bad case of the "coughing problem," as Kade calls it.  So I haven't written anything down.  However, I had a little experience on Saturday that I would like to remember, but probably won't remember beyond next week if I don't blog about it.

One of my guilty pleasures in life is a nice long soak in a hot bubble bath.  I know, I know...its sitting in your own filth, blah blah blah.  I don't know what kinds of nasty habits you people have in your spare time, but I am not a filthy person!  I shower daily, I wash my hands a million times a day, I wear deodorant, I floss.

Anyway, the problem is that I haven't been able to take a bath by myself for approximately 8 years now.  Our master bathroom does not have a door to separate it from our master bedroom.  When we built our home it was quite a bit more money to add the door (weird I know...they also wanted 1000 dollars to tile next to our tub, so it stayed carpet) and since we have a two way fireplace from our bedroom to bathroom we figured if someone in the bedroom wanted to check out the naked person in the bath all they would have to do is look through the fireplace, so why pay for the door?  That's sensible right?

So to keep the kids out when I am taking a bath I would have to lock the door to my master bedroom.  This does not happen.  The funny thing about kids, and those of you who have them will agree, is that they can be quite dramatic.  I often cannot tell the difference between a scream that means "He changed the channel on the tv from barbie to astro boy and I am not down with that!" or one that means "Somebody has just cut off an appendage and is bleeding profusely on the carpet!"  Same decibel.  So like any responsible parent, I leave the door open.  And usually 2.3 seconds after settling in to my bath a kid comes in to tattle, is sidetracked by the awesomeness of bubbles and steam, and promptly helps themselves to my tub.  And while I am confident in the absence of my filth, I am equally suspicious of the presence of theirs.  So my bath is over before it is begun.  I have tried unsuccessfully for years to break this habit of theirs, but it seems to be impossible.  They are hardwired to cause me angst.  They can not not disturb the peace.

But back to Saturday...after several sleepless nights due to the aforementioned "coughing problem" I decided I needed a bath.  The kids had just returned from a birthday party and were happily devouring the goodies from their bag so I saw that as my best opportunity.  Just minutes after I had gotten in Kyanna came wandering into my room with a handful of plastic dinosaurs she had received at the party.  She set them down two feet away from me on the step stool she uses to wash her hands and began to play.  "She doesn't realize I am here!!!" I thought, and I focused on not breathing for as long as possible.

This is the conversation her dinosaurs started having with each other:

Purple Dino:  "Mom and Dad, I'm really thirsty can I have some of your drink?"
Yellow, and Orange Dinos: "Sorry baby, this is a grown up drink." (at our house "grown up drink" refers to anything with caffeine...heaven forbid they stay up any later at night than necessary!)
Purple: "But Mom, I really really want some!"
Y and O:  "We said No.  You will have to have some water."
Purple: "Please Please, Pretty Please!"
Y and O: "NO!  Now don't ask again or you will go in time out!  Do you like time out?"
Purple: "Can I have your drink Mom, can I have your drink Mom, can I have your drink Mom, can I have your drink Mom?"  (this is a technique my kids have mastered because it often results in two scenarios... A. Mom gives in    or B.  Mom ends up in the corner banging her head against the wall, giving the pest ample time to help themselves to whatever they wanted)
Y and O: "YOU ARE NOT LISTENING! We said NO!  You will have to drink water to make your body healthy!"
Purple: "Then why are you drinking it?!"

This silly conversation my three year old was having with herself gave me plenty of entertainment for a good ten to fifteen minutes.  At that point, I made the giant mistake of coughing.  She immediately turned to me with a pleasantly surprised look on her face and yelled "WHAT THE HECK?!!!! I'M GETTING IN THERE!"

Which turned out to be a good time for me to exit because within 30 minutes I was headed to instacare to confirm Kade's turn with strep throat.  But for those fifteen minutes, I was queen!