Today, WeePT is 7 months old. Wow… time flies.
I want her to stay this way…. and at the exact same time…I want to do all the rest of it. I can’t wait to see her grow! Such a strange feeling.
Last night, we introduced WeePT to the big bathtub. Her infant tub is good…but just not enough room for her to wiggle and play. Not to mention that the whole kitchen gets soaked from her splashes.
So- I filled the tub and climbed in with her so she wouldn’t slide all over the place.
She loved it. She splashed and kicked. She threw her water toys and watched them float back to her. I think she would have stayed in it all night…but Mommy was getting cold, so I know she probably was, too.
Kind of a milestone. She’s getting so big.
WeePT after her bath
Anyway… I’m rambling.
When AT and I were discussing bathing her in the big tub, the “cleanliness” of the tub came up. We have 2 full bathrooms in our house, but only one actual bathtub. It’s in the bathroom that the boys use, exclusively.
Pigpen and MastaG clean their own bathroom weekly as part of their chores. That being said, let me say it again….”THEY CLEAN THEIR OWN BATHROOM.”
It’s ok. It isn’t scummy or black. There is no mildew. They do a decent job. But now…they have to share the bathroom with their SISTER. I’d say the standards are going to change some. (Well…maybe).
Before taking WeePT into the bathroom. I checked it out. Not bad. I did, however, have to do some cleaning. With bathroom soap and the scrubber.
After I cleaned the tub, I came into the living room and the following conversation occurred:
Me: Hey boys? We’re going to start bathing WeePT in the big bathtub now that she’s outgrown her baby tub. I’d like to make a suggestion.
MastaG: ok..
Me: After you take your showers in the mornings, do you mind to make sure that the hairs and snot-wads are rinsed out of the tub?
Pigpen: ewwwww…Mooooommmmm (little boy giggle)
Me: I’m just saying. You two are the only ones that use it…and they have to come from somewhere. Just make sure to rinse out the tub and get the hairs off the drain. I really don’t want to touch them. Hairs… I understand. I lose hairs in the shower, too. And Dad and I have to clean them off the drain. Snot wads? You won’t find those on my shower walls. Just please clean them up if you felt the need to blow them out of your nose in the shower.
(From the other room) AT: Are you sure it’s snot?
===== : /
All I can hope is that the fear of MOM having to clean up all those “embarrassing,” personal things out of the bathtub will prod them to clean up after themselves, so I don’t have to. Fingers crossed. But I have my tub cleaner handy…just in case.
I’m not afraid for my daughter. It’ll make her tough. Sharing a bathroom with boys is not for the weak stomached. It’s not always bad. But it’s definitely something all females should have to endure before they move in with the love of their life when they find him.
I grew up with 3 brothers and we all shared a bathroom. Here are some of the things I learned:
I’m sure there are others. The best thing to remember is > they do things differently in there… so DON’T BE SURPRISED BY ANYTHING.
I’m happy I can give/share this experience with my daughter.
: )
This year, we’re fortunate enough to attend two fabulous Thanksgiving dinners, neither of which we’ve had to cook. Today we’re up in the fine town of Nashville at Bell’s brothers place (I don’t know if they yet have a fabulous internet nickname).
A fine spread indeed. We’re at that fine post dinner point where the copious amounts of alcohol (mimosas fot the win!) is mixing with the insane amounts of food ingested, thus testing the endurance of the participants.
Yep, this is stamina time. Two adults are passed out, most of the little children are down for naps, the baby’s out, MastaG is looking heavy-lidded in the easy chair with his headphones on.
Of course, I could be helping clean up…
There is nothing that warms the heart more than baby giggles.
WeePT is stingy with her giggles. If you do something she thinks is funny…she’ll laugh and laugh. Do it again an hour later? Nope. Not funny anymore.
I actually got giggles yesterday…AND got them on video. Blowing air between her toes is evidently VERY FUNNY. : )
Yep, folks, I’ve been a dad for 15 long years. Pretty freakin awesome.
It couldn’t be any better, either. I’ve often told people that my favorite job is being a dad, but the truth is I couldn’t imagine NOT being one. At this point, its just baked into who I am.
…whats that? Oh… it’s MastaG’s birthday too, apparently…
Remind me again that it’s inappropriate to envy the unemployed…?
Thanksgiving turkey
Down at the Blueberry Farm
With everyone here
Morning goes slowly
Coffee and french toast to eat
Talking and laughing
Except WeePT
Whos cutting her first tooth now
Not thrilled about it
I love my pets.
I’ve always had them around me…all my life. From dogs and cats…to my love of horses (I was lucky enough to have a friend share hers…I never owned one)…to hedgehogs…to canaries. Not of fan of the rodent family as pets, but they are cute.
Anyway. As I grew up, my childhood pets got old and passed on. I got my own dog in college. She actually was a pup that my friend had…but couldn’t keep because she exceeded the weight limit allowed at her apartment complex. Anyway, a Rotti-lab mix that ended up spending 12 glorious years with me. She was the best dog ever. It was hard to lose her…
My ex and I adopted a beagle pup from a local shelter…and he’s a goof ball.I’m not sure if he’s so smart, he just doesn’t “associate” with people like us…or if he’s just..well, not smart. He’s a good boy though. Scared of loud noises (thunder, esp), doesn’t like to chase rabbits..he’d rather snuggle on the couch.
I also managed to accumulate 2 cats over the years. They are no trouble.. Apache tells me when there is a “hole” in his food bowl (he can see the bowl through the food)…and Spooky..well..she just lets us live here. They don’t bother me. I like having them around. Kitty biscuits and headbutts are a necessary thing in my life.
When the boys moved in 4 years ago, my pets had to adjust a bit
.
The boys had some cats once…but it wasn’t a good experience for AT.
(Some history: http://oldetuma.atomictumor.com/2006/06/03/the-cat-situation/ http://oldetuma.atomictumor.com/2006/06/05/additions-to-the-family/ )
Anyway…I got kids..he got critters. We both had to learn patience in a whole new way. I think AT has done a good job. The foug-legs haven’t won him over totally, yet… but I’m seeing progress.
After AT and I got married, we bought a little doberman puppy for our family.
We had a full house…
I don’t know what it would be like without my pets. I love having them around. I hope the kids grow up loving their pets, too. The boys do love the critters. MastaG loves the beagle’s soft ears. Pigpen loves the cats…even though he pushes his luck with them sometimes and they whack him in the forehead. (Some cats don’t like kisses, btw) AT says they must get their love for animals from me…b/c both he and GAC weren’t really animal lovers. I’m ok with that…even though I’m not sure how that would happen.
—–
And then we got WeePT : )
Not a foug-legged addition… but an addition, non-the-less.
And she is already tickled at the animals. She screeches and flaps her arms when they come into her sight.
The doberman tolerates her petting him and playing with his collar.
The beagle gets up and walks away.
The black cat ignores her completely (but she does think the porta-crib is hers).
The yellow cat?
well.. he likes WeePT (so far)
Its Bells birthday, so that means she came home at 9:30 PM last night to smoke pouring out of the oven.
Wait, lets start over.
Today’s Bells birthday!
I’m a bit of a sucker for birthdays in a kinda weird way. I don’t care for my own, because I don’t like the attention, but I love celebrating other peoples. I try to do this (particularly for Bell) by racking my brain to come up with some kind of token to let them know how important they are.
I’m not one to try to go buy random gifts , which works in this case because Bell goes out of her way not to want things. What doesn’t work is that I still obsess secretly with trying to find or make an awesome something that’ll make her eyes light up.
This year, I had inspiration a little early, two weeks ago – a baby hand mold.
Alas. Execution was not equal to inspiration. After three hours of baking at 200 degrees, it was still soft, and Bell was due home in 20 minutes. I cranked the oven to 300…
And forgot about it…
That brings us right back to the beginning, people, with smoke pouring out of the oven, and the realization that I need to leave SOME things to professionals.
Like arts and crafts.
Happy birthday Bell! I love you with all of my heart!
And I’ll clean up the kitchen when I get home…
A quick aside to my family, standing around scoffing at the idea that despite my profession of birthday excitement all they ever get is a text message on their birthday…
…touche.