Sometimes, you just have to scrape up the poo and go on....

My Muffin. My dear, darling, beautifully sensitive, brilliantly creative, wonderfully inquisitive son. I refuse to write if I'm feeling uninspired - goodness knows I wouldn't want you, my lovelies, to become bored of me. Leave it to the Muffin to bring inspiration and suitably interesting events crashing down around my ballet flats. I'll start forward and work my way back. First of all, J it was simply wonderful to see you and JC tonight. I am reminded how much I enjoy being around you by that little stitch that pokes me in the side after you leave, alerting me that I have laughed too much and too hard. It makes me smile to think of how we have evolved, from college buddies making plans and talking about parties, to settled adults watching movies and having drinks, to harried mothers - conversations now disjointed with staccato shouts at our boys,

"...and so then we decided to -- You put down the gerbil right now! -- go on to the restaurant hoping that we wouldn't have to --I SAID PUT HER DOWN MISTER! -- wait long, but then, can you believe, we walked right into his ex--Do NOT lick that peanut butter off the floor! -- girlfriend! I KNOW, isn't that just madness?!"

And now to add potty training to the mix -- really, what more? Apparently, bladders have a mob mentality -- when one explodes, they all explode.
"I have to pee!"
"Oh! Me too! Need da potty!"
"No I need da potty - wait your turn!"
This phenomenon has also proven itself in other less than desirable areas.
"Um, Meg, do you smell something?"
"Yep, is it mine?" (Gingerly peeling back the side of the Muffin's pull-up with one cautious finger.) Nope, think he's good..."
"Oh crap - JC! It's mine...." (Almost like a really disgusting Easter Egg hunt, only it's not Easter, and these definitely aren't eggs...)
The really unfortunate thing is that immediately after verifying that it wasn't the Muffin who was dirty, he started pulling at his pants and doing the little tinkle time tap dance. I ran over to get him close to the potty, helped him pull down his pants, and out fell our own little chocolate egg. Apparently, I wasn't nearly fast enough and our little hen couldn't wait. It's hard scraping poo off the floor when you are laughing hysterically. Poor little JC, he kept saying,"Oh, C had to go potty. Do you need to go potty Mommy? We should all go potty now..." We give that 'never a dull moment' phrase new life......

And dear me, if that isn't enough fun for a week, the events of last night! Leave it to my Jess to come through for a girl. (My mother always knew she was a keeper.) After much prodding, I finally got around to putting my weekend pictures on that blasted Facebook. Mind you, it was 11pm after another mind-numbing but wonderful day at work. I am still heartily enjoying myself, but the warnings of 'your brain will be jello' have definitely hit the nail on the head for this busy season. So, I was just shy of complete mental shut down when I uploaded the pictures and then closed my lap top and shuffled off to bed. No sooner had my head found that delicious gap in the pillow that only the pillow you sleep on every night can have, and my phone chirps. BabyDaddy grunted, "That your phone?"
"MMM-Hmmm."
"Are you going to check it?"
"Nah - it's a text, I'll look at it in the morning."
"But, what if it's an emergency?"
"BD - Really! Who is going to TEXT me in a bloody emergency?! If it's important, they'll call!"
"Mm-Kay. 'Night."
"Night."
Then, the phone rings. As Jess's signature song shrills through the dark "We are Fam-i-lee! I got all my sistas with me!" I roll over and grope along the edge of the bedside table, knocking over the skinny lamp, (it looked so fashionable at Garden Ridge, but it's really been quite a bother), sending the TV remote flying, and toppling my wedding picture. But with Jess, as is par for her good judgement, it was worth the late night call.

"Meggie, did you just put up some pictures on Facebook?"
"Yep! They're cute aren't they?"
"Yeah, well, did you look at them?"
"No, just uploaded and closed up...."
"Um, well, there's a picture of the Muffin.... and well, um, he doesn't have on any pants. Like, ANY PANTS."
"CRAP!!! Crapcrapcrapcrap!!!!!"

Thank you Jess, for saving me from being known as the mother who thoughtlessly posted a photo of her son's man berries on the Internet. If I haven't said it before, potty training is a big deal in our house - we're either changing underwear, pulling down underwear, running to the closest potty, taking off underwear, deciding that race car underwear is "not cool - need da 'Piderman ones pwease" and changing underwear. *Sigh* Thank goodness Jess was the only one up and the first one to see it. (By the way, if Jess wasn't the only one up, please don't tell me. I don't want to know. I've already had a bit of a mini-breakdown about the whole thing.....)

Quickly, because my fingers are tired and it's creeping ever so much closer to that 11pm mark, (we KNOW what terrible events happened when I was on the Internet last night at 11pm) a quick summary of the weekend -- Thomas the Train was wonderful. We had a lovely day. The Muffin quite enjoyed the train ride, but I think the mini-golf course was his favorite part. We had a time and a half trying to get him away from the thing, and ended up bribing him with ice cream to force him to surrender his putter. We had nice quiet evening, baked cup cakes, and watched The Land Before Time. Sunday was the slow usual - church, Cracker Barrel, naps, pool time. Even still, it was Monday before I knew it. I wish it would be Friday before I knew it. Ah, the life of a working mother......