Disproportionate

I was just innocently glancing through my labels wondering if I should shorten the amount that I have, or rename some of them, and generally just doing a little re-evaluation of the blog.

I must admit that I was a little bit embarrassed to see that the little number next to "The Frustrations" currently DOUBLES the number next the "The Joys".

Suddenly I found myself feeling guilty. My thought process was something like, "Geesh, some mom you are to be noticing all these negative things about mothering instead of constantly celebrating the good!"

Then my thought jumped to a thought from President Gordon B. Hinckley. He taught that life is like a journey on a train ride. There are only bits and pieces of the journey where the breathtaking scenery bursts into your view. (I tried to find the exact quote to no avail, so that little paraphrase will have to do; along with a little hope that I am giving credit where credit it due).

So, rather than wallow in wonderment as to whether or not I am a negative person who is not appreciating motherhood for all its glorious moments, I am going to go with the thought that motherhood is just like that train ride - every now and then something absolutely joyful bursts into view that makes you remember that you are doing a sacred and wonderful work.

A Morning at Safeway

So, I was pulling up to Safeway this morning with the girls; up to that point we were doing pretty darn good. We had gotten ready and out the door with very few melt-downs or set-backs and to add to the goodness it was a beautiful day.

When we pulled into the parking lot and got out of the car I made my first mistake of my shopping experience. You know those grocery carts that have little cars on the front that you can put the kids into so that they can play and "drive" the cart while you are shopping? Well, there was one deceitfully parked in front of my car leaving me to think, "Hmm, how nice, this will keep Kenzie entertained while I shop!" WRONG! The cart was top heavy when the cart had no groceries in it and slowly became back heavy as I filled my cart. I was fish tailing in every direction and the pinnacle of my cart pushing experience came when I attempted to turn the cart around in a ridiculously small aisle (only found in a San Francisco Safeway) and I knocked a jar of pickles off the shelf. That pickle jar shattered and the pickle juices flooded the aisle giving the already tiny aisle less room to maneuver in. While I attempted to round up a worker my girls were screaming out me to "come back mommy" (even though I was within eye sight the entire time). Yeah, that was embarrassing . . . To top it off, the comments that the cart generated were only adding insult to injury. I got a few "Wow, you've got your hands full," a "Heavy load coming through," and the ever encouraging, "Good luck!"

So, the highlight of the trip came at the end when Jordyn had gotten a hold of the condoms in our cart without my noticing and was chewing on the box. We passed this dude who not only took the time to notice, but also the time to open his mouth and make the following comment, "Hmm, there's something ironic about a baby chewing on a box of condoms."

Luckily I had a good nights sleep and I was a well rested mommy this morning - so I really found the entire experience quite amusing. :)

So lets hear it mommies, what outrageous things have strangers said to you in regards to your children?

Hooray for Mommy!

As you may know, Kenzie is in the process of potty training. Things are going quite well. She has pretty much got it down when we are at home, which is all I am really looking for at this point. I need to pick up a few more things before I attempt potty training outside of the house. (Being at the park without a toilet in sight is currently at the top of my list for reasons to panic.)

My favorite bits of the potty training business would be the following:

1. Sorry Hillary, you said not to blog about this one, but I just can't help myself . . . Last night Kenzie's friend Sarah was over, and Kenzie was showing those definite signs of needing to do her serious business in the bathroom. I caught her just in time to have her whisked away to the bathroom and placed on the pot. No one is allowed in the bathroom while Kenzie is doing her thing, so she quickly instructed Garrett to leave and let her be. So, Garrett returned to our company in the living room and told her to let us know when she was ready to wipe and wash her hands. (Which usually consists of her screaming out that she is ready to wipe at the top of her lungs - I'd be quite surprised if our whole apartment building isn't aware of our current potty training adventures) Well, we all got a little caught up in some adult conversation before we realized that the house was a little bit too quite for two year olds. We went into the bathroom to find Sarah with a fist FULL of toilet paper ready to help her little pal out . . . now THAT is friendship. :)

2. Kenzie feels that her sister should be potty trained as well. Anytime I change a poopy diaper of Jordyn's, Kenzie tells sister that she is "icky" and should put her poo-poo in the potty. Kenzie often insists that sister go and sit on the potty when Jordyn is showing the obvious signs of making a mess in her diaper. I am just hoping that I don't find Kenzie trying to put Jordyn in the toilet one of these days . . .

1. Finally, Kenzie feels the need to celebrate mommy's potty training abilities. Anytime I am getting ready to head to the bathroom Kenzie inquires about whether or not I need to poo-poo or pee-pee in the potty. As soon as she hears the toilet flush and I make my appearance out of the bathroom, she is there to congratulate me with one or all of the following: a hug, a high five, or a "Hooray for Mommy" while she jumps up and down. She knows going potty is truly something to celebrate . . . even when you are a twenty-three year old mother of two.

Kenzisms - Poopy Diapers

Since Jordyn was born MaKenzie has become quite fascinated with poopy diapers. Any time that Jordyn makes her little gassy noises, Kenzie is right there to assess the situation. She promptly places her hands on her hips, bends at the waist, takes a good loud sniff, and announces (more like shrieks at the top of her lungs) "Ew, siser inky, poo-ee" (translation: "ew, sister stinky, pee-oo-ee").

Well, this funny story turns into an embarrassing one when mommy is the one passing the gas and you are in a public place. We'll just leave it at that . . .