The Lord's Day and the Day After That

Okay, so it's time for a confession, Utah-style. Most of you know that while I am not Mormon, I am quite positively inclined towards the LDS church. I think it's a force for good in this community, and while I don't espouse the theology myself, I think there are some lovely ideas there. Being nice to people. Helping out. Being with one's family for all time and eternity. Now, ten days straight with my family is about all I can manage, but hey, if one wants to be with one's family for all of time and eternity, be my guest! If I were a better person, I probably would, too.

One thing I just don't get, however, is the ban on shopping on Sundays. I get the general gist--that it's a day of rest, that one should not conduct business on the Lord's Day, but what about those of us for whom shopping is less and chore and more, say, a form of therapy? Especially when there is a newly opened IKEA in town, taunting me with its cheery yellow and blue promises of extremely cute Scandinavian design. And 99-cent breakfasts.

So yes, I am confessing. On Sunday morning, we decided that we did not need a repeat performance of last week's nursery debacle at the Cathedral of the Perpetually Howling Toddler and went to IKEA instead. I kind of want to duck behind something when I say that, but it's true. I skipped church and went shopping and I'm not even sorry. We had breakfast, which frankly, wasn't that great, but dude, it was 99 cents. We found the toddler bed to end all toddler beds (because it has a tent! that attaches to the bed!) which we won't be buying for some time but which is darned cute nonetheless. We also found all manner of cute stuffed toys, which we need like a hole in the head but bought one anyway--it's a macabre little turtle who sings "Twinkle Twinkle" when you pull his head out from his body. Gruesome? A little. But also silly cute. Now D announces to everyone he knows that "I LOVE IKEA." That's my boy.

And may I say about 3-day vacations is that they are only 3-day vacations for those without children? Because by Monday morning, I was so ready to be back at my desk, fielding countless demands and answering the same question over and over and over again. Oh wait......

Content evaluation

Recent google searches that have led people to this blog:

meal moth cat poop

testicle grabbing

poop "bear down"


Mommymatic: Come for the scatology, stay for...what? More scatology?








(I know I'm being cliche and that every blogger inevitably does a post about the wacky searches that bring people to their blog, but this past week is the first time I've gotten any really good ones, so bear with me. No pun intended.)

Tinkle Tinkle, little boy

So you may have noticed our decided lack of news on the pottytraining front here at Chez Mommymatic. That's because there hasn't been any. I've been trying not to freak out about the fact that some lovely people have managed to potty train their children scant months after their two-year birthdays and that we, up until the last few weeks have only shown a third-party kind of interest in the whole toileting business.

That is, until one of the preschool teachers tapped into the two great toddler currencies (peer pressure and high-fructose-corn-syrup-based products) and persuaded the One True Child to (drumroll, please) PEE-PEE INNA POTTY. Here is how Daddymatic and D broke the news to me:

Daddymatic: Tell mama what happened at school today.

D: I fell DOOOOWN.

Daddymatic: No, tell mama what OTHER thing happened today.

D: ((crickets chirping))

Daddymatic: ((whispers in D's ear))

D: I go pee-pee inna potty. ((pause)) I GET CANDY.

Ah, yes. It seems we have found the magic motivation in the form of...jellybeans. Unfortunately, we also have a toddler who is smarter than both of his parents put together, because the other night before his bath, he begged to be put on the potty. Normally, this is nothing more than a stalling technique, but it's an effective one, since we simply cannot seem to take the gamble of refusing him. I won't double down on an 11, but I'll take 100 to 1 odds that he will actually pee, because this time is different. This time could be the one!

Well, lo and behold--this time? He did. He tinkled a bit and was thrilled to recieve 3 jellybeans for his trouble. He got in the tub, and announced 5 minutes later that he had to pee-pee again. Now, he knows that candy is only distributed for actual fecal or urinary production, so I was curious to see what he'd do since he'd just peed, and the little stinker peed another, oh, pint or so. So either they are putting real coffee in his daviscoffee (why is it that one cup of coffee going in equals 3 coming out again?) or this little bugger has figured out how to hold some back in order to maximize his jellybean intake. Either way, I think I speak for the entire Matic parenting unit when I say "Craaaaaaap."

But seriously, it's a very good thing. I haven't been pursuing the potty training thing for a number of reasons, top among them being the fact that it would really cut into my Laying Around on the Couch time, and yesterday it became clear that It Is Time, because an untimely diaper full of poop throws quite a wrench into one's sequence of errands, especially when said person has been Laying Around on the Couch instead of, say, making sure there were extra diapers stashed in the car.

So we shall see. I welcome and solicit any advice (or shoot, even assvice) you have to offer, dear reader (and that's not a reference to Ann Landers, it's because I'm sure all but one of you have totally given up on my ever posting again).

Oh, and yes, Bee-bee and Grampy were here for 2 weeks, so there should be a post coming about their visit, which might soon be renamed The Least Stressful Two Weeks of my Recent Past.

I will leave you with some cute recent pics and D's favorite memory of my father from this last trip: "Gumpy havva loud nose." Apparently, heaping this child with gifts and food is second to having the most dramatic nasal-mucus-expelling routine ever. Let this be a lesson to you, friends: you never know what you are going to be remembered for.

This is Bee-bee's favorite picture. Yes, she made the apron. Daddymatic has a matching one. Yes, you may throw up in your mouth now. It really is THAT cute.

This is my favorite recent picture. And his mouth is open in both of these pictures because he almost. never. stops. talking. Finally, a trait for the Outlaws to claim!! *cough, cough*