It's a cruel, cruel world state.

Sunday - a balmy 53 degrees. No coats. A bee-utiful day. Let us ride our bikes and frolic to and fro.

Monday - Makey we a snowman. Not so balmy. Ahem.

What in THEE world is wrong with Minnesota?

Yes, I'm whining.

It was snowing SO hard today. Matt dropped me off to pick up our car from the car doctor (what we our kids call the mechanic), and told me he'd brush the snow off the car before he left. I went inside to pay for the service. I came out not 5 minutes later and saw the car covered in snow. A wee bit perturbed, I brushed it off, got in the car, and called him.

"You said you'd brush the car off!!!"

"I DID!! Actually, twice!"

Aye aye aye.

In other news, We went to the pediatrician today for Isaac's 15 month check-up, as well as a pre-op physical for him (he's having both of his tear ducts probed on Wed. morning, and any prayers for him (and ME!) would be appreciated).

This child has an enormous head, not unlike the rest of our clan. All our kids have had head circumferences >95%ile.

My 5 year old currently wears adult women's size hats/helmets. My 3 year old wears a bike helmet that's for 8-16 year olds. Today on Isaac's chart, the nurse wrote "22 inches - 100th %ile". 100th!!!! 100th percentile doesn't even exist, that would mean that Isaac has the biggest head of any 15month old ever.

Maybe he does.

Mommy is Out of Order

I have 5 precious minutes to myself, doing my business in the bathroom, and there are 3 annoying sweet kids at the door, asking me (in no particular order), to "button my shirt", "help get the cap off the purple marker", and "cuddle". All at the same time. All to a mommy who is currently "out of order". Doesn't occur to them to ask DADDY who is sitting on the couch 5 feet away enjoying his mocha in peace.

And, why would a child (understand this is a purely hypothetical child, no relation to myself in any way whatsoever...) leave the kitchen table where she is eating breakfast with her father (who I don't even know), come to the bathroom door where the child's mother is taking a shower (rumor has it this mother doesn't even always take a shower every day!!!), and ask her to please get her a cup of WATER????!!!

Just let that one sink in for a minute.

Uh-huh.

Why is it that kids always ask MOM for everything? Is this just me?

I'm going to have an "out of order" sign made.

And teach my kids what it means.

And use it.

A truly wordless wednesday - I mean really, what do I say?

More wordless wednesdays here

Messy Hospitality

OK, truth be told. I'm not a neatnik. I like my house clean. But I don't like being the one to implement those changes. I go through manic streaks where I clean like crazy, have a clean house for a while (because everybody knows it's easier to clean an already clean house), and then it turns into a pit and it's so hard to get it back out of the pit unless I have another manic streak. That's pretty much how my household works. So, maybe 30% of the time, it's clean, and the other 70% it's... ummmm.... not.

I used to not physically be able to leave the house messy when I left to go somewhere. When I still had only 1 child (oh... the days...), I remember distinctly telling a friend I couldn't meet her for a playdate for another 2 hours, because in my mind I knew it was going to take that long to clean up. It stressed me out to leave dishes in the sink or anything out on the counter or table or floor.

I'm so over it.

And, you know, it's not my nature to be stressed out about that kind of thing... it had to do with how I felt about what "others" might think. We had a fairly picked up house before kids, but I never stressed about it. It was messy sometimes. But somehow things had changed after having a baby... I had friends that I needed to impress with my fabulous housekeeping skills, *I* had to pick up, just so *I* felt good about *myself*. Every time I had a friend over and the house wasn't in "company" shape, I apologized about the "mess". It was a bit of pride, a bit of fear, and a lot of insecurity.

When my oldest was 11 months old, I went on a trip to Oregon to visit my dear friend from high school, Michelle. It was a girls week. She has a little boy just a few months younger than Corene, so we played and the kids played.

I will *never* forget that trip. It was heaven, absolute heaven. Her house was spotless SO messy!!! We walked in the door, and there were toys everywhere... she brought me up to the room where I would stay, stepping over laundry baskets of clothes as we went. She showed me the kitchen, where an entire load of dishes was in the sink.

It was JUST like my house!!!

And here's where I learned a lifelong lesson. She NEVER apologized, never tried to "cover up her flaws", never said anything that made me feel awkward. She was just REAL. I have never felt so welcome in somebody's home.

We had conversations about flylady.net and the struggles of keeping a home clean, and all the frustrations and challenges of learning about this "mom" business. We loved each other and encouraged each other. We rejoiced in each other's joys and felt each others pains.

And, I dare say it began with that simple act of hospitality.

The world has it backwards. We use the words "good hospitality" to describe a Martha Stewart placesetting, lavish and *perfect*.

But I am forever changed. Hospitality means open, inviting, real. It means we don't hide our ahem.. *many* flaws.

I leave my dishes in the sink and I let my kids' art projects remain on the table and the legos are all over the floor and the dress up clothes litter the girls' room.

And we go play. Or we go to the grocery store. Or we go to school. Or, *shocker* we have a playdate in our messy house! No apologies.

I do look forward to my manic phases, though. Gotta love a clean house.
Gotta love no hate NO- LOVE the Flylady.

Really I don't DO!!!

The REAL excitement of Easter

Excitement. Suspense.

"Tomorrow's Easter!" 'Lil Sis said. "I get to wear my pretty pretty dress!" Which pretty much sums up Easter's meaning for her. Not much interest in the stories of Jesus or even Easter egg hunts or Easter baskets. Nope, it's all about the dress.

"I am excited to go to church. And for the Easter egg hunt" Big Sis one-upped her 'Lil Sis (who could care less).

I am excited for Easter, too. It's right up there in my top two favorite holidays. And, this year, it's going to be oh, so different from the typical "family gathering" holiday, with 20-30 people sitting around a ping pong table dressed out for an Easter meal at Great-Grandpa and Great-Grandma's house.

You see, I will be with a small group of family.

Sitting in an ICU waiting room.

Eating Kentucky Fried Chicken (Which IS open on Easter, in case anyone is wondering).

Visiting Great-Grandma, probably the feistiest fighter they have in that there ICU.

With joy and thanksgiving in my heart. For so many things. God keeps Grandma in His hand, breathing life into her. She is making baby steps forward, or should we call them gramma steps? Little by very little, she is improving. She is still listed in critical condition, going on 2 weeks. Fight, gramma, fight.

Last year on Easter, we were in the process of finding a new church home and I was a brand-new first time visitor at the church that morning. My hubby was playing at another church that day, so I brought 3 kids alone to a new church on the busiest church day of the year. I felt so so alone. A visitor. I missed our old church and the fellowship we had there. I was not in the "mood" to experience Easter. I was terrified of all the changes. Let's just say I was a wee bit fragile.

And THEN, they sang this song. I had never sung it before, and I was a total. wreck. Puddle on the floor. Here are the lyrics:

The Power of the Cross

Oh, to see the dawn
Of the darkest day:
Christ on the road to Calvary.
Tried by sinful men,
Torn and beaten, then
Nailed to a cross of wood.

CHORUS:
This, the pow'r of the cross:
Christ became sin for us;
Took the blame, bore the wrath—
We stand forgiven at the cross.

Oh, to see the pain
Written on Your face,
Bearing the awesome weight of sin.
Ev'ry bitter thought,
Ev'ry evil deed
Crowning Your bloodstained brow.

Now the daylight flees;
Now the ground beneath
Quakes as its Maker bows His head.
Curtain torn in two,
Dead are raised to life;
"Finished!" the vict'ry cry.

Oh, to see my name
Written in the wounds,
For through Your suffering I am free.
Death is crushed to death;
Life is mine to live,
Won through Your selfless love.

FINAL CHORUS:
This, the pow'r of the cross:
Son of God—slain for us.
What a love! What a cost!
We stand forgiven at the cross.

So so powerful, such amazing life changing lyrics. I can't sing it without crying. I can't get through it.

This, my sweet friends, is why I am excited for Easter this year. It is not about my pretty dress. It is not about Easter eggs or chocolate bunnies. It's not about where you spend it, who you're with, or what you eat.

It is about the power of the cross, and the power of the resurrection. This is the power by which Grandma is fighting, the power by which it is possible for Grandma to not fear death. This is the power by which even death can not defeat us, because Christ Himself defeated death.

How do I blog a shout? That's how I feel as I'm writing this.

Have a powerful, Christ-exalting Easter! He is Risen!

Grilling out. In the snow.

Am I pathetic or what?

It was DELICIOUS. Totally worth the ridiculous picture.

Must. Have. FUN.

I could just eat him up.

Two basic rules of mama grace that are apparently not so basic

To mamas with children:
Please do NOT say to a woman who has no children yet but is struggling and wishes she was a mom, "You wouldn't understand what it's like to be a mom".
Please. Don't say that.

To pregnant mamas or mamas of only one child currently in the babe stage:
If you have not had to deal with discipline issues or really ANY independence issues whatsoever, and you have an idealistic view of parenting, do NOT say to a mom with multiple children, "I wouldn't do that. That's not the right way to do ____fill in the blank_____".
Please. Don't say that.

Every mama everywhere is changed by her own experiences raising children. We all have, and will continue, to make at least 102,687 mistakes in mothering. Every single day, I learn. Every single day, I make mistakes that make me a better mom tomorrow. I am a different woman and a different mom now than I was 5.5 years ago. hallelujah. And I will be different 5.5 years from now. HALLELUJAH!!! Can I hear an "Amen", sisters??!!

Boy, do I remember -

-seeing a child have a meltdown in the grocery store and having contempt for the mother that "can't control her child". Contempt. Oh, to be able to go hug that mama now and apologize for my attitude.

-puffing up my chest and thinking, "my child will never eat food from a jar!" Humph! (That's just hilarious now that I even ever thought that...)

-feeling secretly proud that MY child didn't watch videos like so-and-so's kids... at 1 year old she sits and looks at books quietly alone for hours on end. It must be because I don't show her videos... her little mind hasn't been tarnished. (little did I know, this behavior was NOT normal! This is a personality trait! My little second born was um.... NOT so easily amused!! Although, now that I think of it, by then, I WAS doing the unthinkable and allowing this mind tarnishing... so I could take a SHOWER. hmmm....)

or

-Complaining to a dear friend that I was going to have to bring my 6week old baby on a plane for a wedding, how much of a pain that was going to be... when she was going to the wedding, too... wishing, hoping, wanting a babe in her arms to show off...

Oh, the grief we can sow with our tongue.

And where does this tongue-lashing originate? Love? Uh, no. For me, it's pride. Or jealousy. It's icky, even to speak it. But my heart is filled with pride. I am beating it down constantly.

This is an excerpt from my pastor, John Piper's sermon last Sunday:

So the lesson for us is: Everywhere you see some growth, some virtue, some, spiritual discipline, some good habit, or good attitude, rejoice in it. Give thanks for it. Compliment it. Don’t resent it. Don’t be like Cain. Respond the opposite from Cain. Be inspired by other people’s goodness. Love is humble. Love delights in other people’s good. Love doesn’t protect its flaws. Love takes steps to change them. What a beautiful fellowship where everyone is rejoicing in each other’s strengths not resenting them!

The sentence in there that brings me to my knees is "Love doesn't protect its flaws". We need to be open and vulnerable with each other. Don't hide your flaws, mamas. Let's be real with each other so as to bring each other up. Let's be real with each other, excited for each other's virtues, growth, and habits that we wish we had.

And how do we do this, my bloggy friends? When the sin of pride is at our very core? We pray for the touch of the Holy Spirit to be on us, and for His love to flourish within our hearts.

Wow, who knew my rules of grace would get so serious! Should I change the title?

A food post

I love to eat. I love to eat almost everything. I love to think about what I am going to eat, almost as much as the eating itself. Healthy, unhealthy, fancy, plain. I just love it. And I've been pregnant or nursing for the last 6 years, so I pretty much could eat whatever I wanted.

When you're pregnant, you gain weight no matter what you eat.

When you're nursing, you lose weight no matter what you eat.

Both scenarios are just fine by me. HOWEVER, I'm not in either circumstance anymore for the first time in a loooooong time. But, I love to eat. I'm going to have to figure this out. Do tell me your tips: I love to eat.

My #1 favorite food on the entire planet is Chicken Pot Pie IX. That's right folks, number 9. IX. Made with No Fail Pie Crust III. The number 3. It's the one that uses butter as the fat. Did I mention I like to eat?

And last night I made this amazing sandwich. And served it with this french fry recipe. And included every single reference to butter in the sandwich. I can pretend it was for the man, but I'll tell you right now, I enjoyed it at least as much as he did. Yum. It was de-lish.

And tonight, I'm going to make this black bean soup. My fave. I do have eclectic taste, don't I?

And there you have it. An entire post about food. My favorite topic.

Except maybe coffee.

An enormous trip

Kelly at Love Well has recently posted on several "hubby is out of town" adventures. Well, today, I had an adventure of my own. No, hubby is not out of town, but he's working all weekend, and with family coming in to town, and zero food in the house, I was forced to make a trip to.... drumroll please...

Costco.

With three kids.

On a Saturday.

And the only time that worked in my schedule for the day was...

lunch time.

Am I crazy, or what? I figured, you know what? I'm just going to make do. I am going to have fun with it.

So, we get there, and my Costco card is NOWHERE to be found. I looked in every nook and cranny of my purse. nada. So we wait in line for 10 minutes to get a temporary card. Check.

I decided to feed the kids those enormous Costco hot dogs and pizza for lunch, we were hungry so we started with that. Found out they don't take debit or credit cards at the food place.

"You can stand in line at the cash register and pay there, they take debit cards". I looked around me and there were at least 5 people waiting in line in each of the 52 cash registers that were open, all with very full carts. Hellooooo, this is Costco.

"Or, there is an ATM machine around the corner". Great, what else can we do? So I fork over $13 in fees (or so it seemed) for a $20 bill, buy the food. Check.

My kids eat more than any other children I know. Corene ate an entire 1/4lb hot dog and a berry smoothie. Ava ate an entire slice of pepperoni pizza (if you are not familiar with Costco pizza slices, they are equivalent to almost a half a regular size pizza... enormous. ) I shared a hot dog with Isaac. All aforementioned children complained that they were "still hungry" at the end of said gluttonous feast. There are no high chairs in chez Costco, so the babe sits on my lap. Nobody spills, only a small amount of pizza sauce and ketchup on the front of our clothes. Check.

Potty. Check.

Costco has enormous carts because everything they have there is... enormous. Two kids can sit side-by-side in the front of the cart. So I had the two littler ones there, and Corene sat in the basket with the groceries. We filled the cart to the brim with my little girl in the cart, it was hilarious. Wish oh wish I had my camera. Finished the trip, $200 later. Not bad for Costco. Check.

Potty. Again. Check.

So the funniest part of the day is that as we were leaving the store, 3 kids IN the cart, one still buried somewhere in the basket, and some guy driving by us is YELLING out the window, "CHECK OUT THAT LADY!! SHE'S EVEN GOT ONE IN THE CART!! BAHAHAHA!!!!" Now, I didn't quite know how to take that. It could be complimentary. But, this guy looked like Magnum PI, and he was hanging out of a pickup truck. Not a sympathetic fellow. He was laughing at me.

I am not ashamed. I turned around and gave him a big smile.

The smile said, "Shut up".

I am woman. Hear me roar.

Sweet Grandma

My Grandma-in-law, Pauline, is currently in critical condition in ICU. She has been fighting ovarian cancer for several months and doing very well - next week was scheduled as her last chemo.

Being beat up thouroghly from the chemo, she developed pneumonia, a bacterial skin infection, as well as a blood infection, and has been in ICU since Monday afternoon.

This woman is amazing. AMAZING. Faithful follower of Christ, full of life, an absolute child-at-heart. Strong. Strong-willed :) and beautiful.

Will you join me in praying for her recovery? There will also be updates at Aunt Dawn's page, if you'd like to stay updated. Thank you, friends.

I've fallen and I can't get up!!!

I need a Psychology degree. Come to think of it, I need an Early Childhood Education degree, too. And it wouldn't hurt to have an MD. It would sure make parenting easier, wouldn't it?

But tonight, I was reminded how much I would really like to have my M.Div. Teaching young children the wonders and glories of the unsearchable God is truly a hoot! Tonight I gave a quick impromptu Mommy version of the story of David and Goliath. Afterwards, behold the conversation:

Corene: Why did David do that? 'Cause Goliath was mean?

Me: Well, yes. Goliath was insulting God.

Corene: So he killed him because he was mean to God?

Me: Ummmm... yes? God wanted him to.

Corene: So is that what we're supposed to do, too? When people are mean to God?

Me: Well..... ahhh.... no....



Yeah. Brilliant, Jenny. Could not come up with an appropriate explanation. If Daddy hadn't jumped in and saved the day by giving a simple, "Goliath was a soldier" (which fully satisfied her confusion), my daughter would probably be laying in bed right now planning her first murder.

Well, if you've read this blog for any length of time, you know I have a future drug dealer AND now a murderer on my hands.

Help.

What do I say?

What do I say when a youth from a church-going family says, "I don't talk to God". I am speechless.

My heart is ripped in two as I talk with my student about God's grace. It is obvious this child has not been shown grace from the people in her life. She knows not of it's power. It means nothing to her.

Her family "looks good" on the outside, she says. Her parents "hold hands at church" but at home, biting, angry words are what define them. "They hate each other". Empty eyes stare at me. What do I say?

Lord, give me words.

I can not fix this life. I can not undo years of mixed messages and confusion. This child does not see you when she says your Name. She does not hear your love when I say your Name.

Lord, open her ears.

One thing out of the mouth and another thing in action equals hypocrisy. Equals confusion.

Lord, touch her heart.

May I gently, diligently, sincerely - and with humility... live a life that mirrors what I teach my children about you.

May I not let any words come from my lips that have not already erupted from my heart.

May I pray for this sweet child. Lord, give me words. Open her ears. Touch her heart.

Lord, teach me, I pray.

Traveling but going nowhere

I'm bleary eyed. We lost one whole hour of precious time last night. I HATE Springing forward. Hate it. My kids are jet lagged, and you'd really think we were traveling because 2 of them have diarrhea. There I go with more TMI. Missed church this morning because of said illness.

I do, however, look nice today. I decided to try that crazy sounding makeup called Bare Minerals. So our family went to the Mall of America yesterday, which was way totally fun. We didn't even succumb to the theme park or the rides that so often cause whining. We shopped! And drank Caribou coffee. No whining! It was lovely.

So, what do you do when you haven't slept much and you feel like mushy used espresso grounds? Why, you apply Bare Minerals, just like the infomercial says. And, voila! You look fresh and springy. I do! I really do! No, I will not prove it with a picture. You'll just have to take my word for it.

Well, if you can't tell, I got nothin' to say. So, I'll leave you with a truth from Scripture to ponder. This verse was my iGoogle "daily verse" today, and it really was meant for me today. It's great!

1 Peter 3:10-11

"Whoever desires to love life and see good days, let him keep his tongue from evil and his lips from speaking deceit; let him turn away from evil and do good; let him seek peace and pursue it."

A Meme for my 1 month-a-versary

*for the record, I can't figure out how to change the date - I started this post last night and that's the date/time that it's listing... I posted it this morning, but it still says yesterday. Help? But anyway... here is the post:*

This blog is celebrating it's one-month birthday! Woohoo! And to celebrate, I'm going to talk about me? Don't know how interesting it will be, but hey - Jenna tagged me, so here goes.

10 years ago:
Newly married. Struggling. Sressed out. Suffering from fainting spells and bad headaches that turned out to be migraines. (After CT scans and tests of every kind...). Blame that on the evil hormones in the evil Pill. Don't get me started.

We were both in our last semester of college, living like 1/2 college students and 1/2 married folk. Funny place to be. Not my favorite time of life to remember. God is gracious and loving and he literally carried me through that time. Moving on...

Things on My To Do List Today:

• Finish this post
• Do 2 loads of laundry AND put them away
• Take a shower without having any children ingest toilet water
• Teach flute to and inspire the future adults of America (aka. go to work)

Three of my BAD Habits

• I pick at my cuticles until they bleed. I always wished I had nice looking fingers, but I don't, and frankly probably never will.
• I have no etiquitte. Peggy Post would frown upon me. Try as I might, I'm not good at remembering birthdays, sending cards, and calling people on important days. And forget about thank you notes. And, therefore, I am afraid that I will raise children with no etiquette either. HELP!
• This is a real, true confession of a bad habit that I am prayerfully trying to change in my life. It is no secret that I am not a good multitasker. It's just not the way God made me. My faux sister, Aunt Dawn, can talk to me, "attend" a business conference call on her blackberry, eat a muffin, and paint her toenails all without missing a beat. But me, I start to read an email, and a child could fall down the stairs and break her leg and I wouldn't even hear it. When I'm cooking, especially if I'm following a recipe, I'll often hear this (the first thing I hear) -

(shouting) MOMMY! CAN I HAVE A DRINK OF WATER?!

Me: PLEASE don't shout at me!

Child: But, I've asked you lots and lots of times, and you're not listening!

oops.

So I know this is a problem, and a few weeks ago, I heard my daughters discussing this bad awful habit of mine. It went something like this:

(I am guessing that Ava asked me something and I didn't hear her- but then I DID hear this)

Ava: Mommy doesn't listen very well

Corene: I just think she doens't hear you, sometimes you have to go shake her and make her look at you, then she'll listen.

(!!!)

And THEN, as if I needed more conviction (but obviously I did), one night after I taught, I came home and was comatose as usual after a long night, brainlessly reading an email or something, and apparently someone was asking me something, and I was... not listening... I saw "the look" from the man, and we talked about it later that night. The decision, and my realization that something needed to change, was that it's not a good idea for me to read my email after I come home from work, until after the kids go to bed. I am just too single-focused and out of it on nights that I teach to be able to be a good mommy AND check my email. Maybe sounds stupid, but I am determined not to have my kids remember me as being "out of it" and "not a good listener". How to do it, I don't know... but I'm starting with asking God about it every morning. Lord PLEASE help me to not get so focused on what I'm doing that I don't hear my children. It's hard! There's so much to do in the mom job that's not simply playing/engaging with the children. Lord, help me.

If I Suddenly became a Billionaire:

I would give a million dollars to Northwestern College as an endowment for Music Scholarships. I've thought about this before, that's why it's so specific. But this does say Billionaire, so maybe I would give more!

I'd pay off my house, hire someone to finish the rest of the basement so my hard working hubby could be done.

I would pray that pride and greed would not enter my life, because of this truth in Scripture:

23Then Jesus said to his disciples, "I tell you the truth, it is hard for a rich man to enter the kingdom of heaven. 24Again I tell you, it is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter the kingdom of God." Matthew 19: 23-24

I am afraid of wealth. I frankly don't want to be rich because I'm afraid of what it would do to my heart. I hope that I would give enough away to only have enough left to live comfortably. But I don't know. Makes me neeervous!

Five Jobs I've Had:

• The Yogurt Mill, yogurt dispenser
• The Hanalei Hotel operator ("Aloha, Hanalei Hotel, where can I direct your call?")
• Turning Point Ministries, credit card inputter (David Jeremiah's radio ministry)
• 5th/6th grade Band teacher
• Private Flute Instructor

Five Things People Don't Know About Me:

1. We've used Natural Family Planning as our birth control for much of our marriage. (TMI?)
2. I use oil to clean my face. Really. Check it out.
3. I do not consider myself a writer. I'm sure I break every grammatical rule in the book in this blog. (see? in the book in this blog???? that doesn't even make sense!)
4. I was born on the island of St Croix in the US Virgin Islands.
5. I used cloth diapers with my kids for a long time, and loved it. (We don't currently, but maybe some day again soon).

There. That wasn't too painful. So, I will tag Jennifer and Amanda.

Spring?? Please??!!

So, it's March 5. Spring, right? I know in my head that in Minnesota, March NEVER qualifies as spring. NEVER. The last frost is somewheres around May 15th, so I'm smoking something if I am expecting Spring. in March. in Minnesota.

Well, what I'm smokin' is seeds. Glorious seeds. Brought to me from heaven above California.

My seed packets say "start seeds indoor 8-10 weeks before last frost". Sadly, we are 10 weeks away from the last frost. But, just feeling the soil between my fingers and looking at those peat pots lined up on my window sill is enough for me to peek over them, look outside, and expect to see daffodils popping up.

Hardly.

Last night, we had Pasta Primavera. With asparagus. Lots of Asparagus. And breadsticks made from this pizza crust recipe. And then I made these. It was an extremely delicious evening.

So, am I savoring the promise of spring, or am I eating away my sorrows about the current state of our outdoors? Yes.

Bobbing for Apples

This might be the single most hideously embarrassing post I write. But it's too good not to post.

Isaac is just the age where I can get in the shower and give him some toys, and he'll play while I shower. This single fact has again made showering an almost daily event for me! Woohoo!

We removed toilet accessories (plunger, cleaning brush) from the bathroom, and put the garbage can on the counter. We've trained him to not play with the toilet paper or the toilet itself. He's learned fairly quickly. *Mommy pats self on back*

So this morning, I jumped in the shower and gave him a few toys, and did *not* notice that the dear boy had an apple in his hand, left over from breakfast.

So I'm showering and I peek out to look at him, and to my utter HORROR, he has the toilet lid up and is about to drop said apple into the toilet water. I gasp. Isaac startles and drops the apple into the toilet. Now, I'm freaking out, FIGHTING with the darn glass shower door that I despise. The more I freak out, two things happen: a)Isaac KNOWS I'm coming to get that apple, so he's working HARD to get it out of the toilet, and b)The stupid door will not budge. I'm captive in my own shower. Finally, I get it open, just as houdini baby has somehow managed to get the apple out of the toilet, and..... NOOOOOO..... yesssssssss..... puts it in his MOUTH.

As I finally get the door open, I slip and put a good sized bruise on my leg. I. despise. our. shower. doors.

Isaac sees me coming and with an arm to make daddy proud, he throws the apple back in the toilet, which makes a very large splash and gives him a shower. With toilet water. And I don't mean like eau de toilet. I mean toilet water.

Final scene: Isaac takes shower with Mommy, and every square inch is washed including lips. There is some screaming involved.