The Money & The Purse

Last night, Fisher Price sent us a catalog. First, let me say that I have no idea why Fisher Price started printing catalogs. Their product lines are household names sold in every store that carries toys. Why do they need to waste money printing catalogs when Toys 'R Us prints one for them? Second, I have no idea how I ended up on there mailing list.

None the less, for whatever reason we received the catalog. Mikie, with his super senses, immediately detected the presence of a "magazine" in the house. His mission, as always, to find and read said "magazine" and point out every item that he finds of interest. Today's obsession: the "lots of animals" toy, also known as, the Little People A to Z Learning Zoo.

Since it was educational (helps with learning letter recognition), and we are a bunch of suckers, Mike agreed that we would go to the story and buy this toy. Only after Mikie explained our roles in the shopping trip:

Mikie: "We will go to the store and get the lots of animals. And Dad will bring the money."

Mike: "Does Mom need to come if I have the money?"

Mikie: "Mom will come and bring her purse."

Lauren: "Does my purse have money in it."

Mikie: "No. Dad has the money."

Evidently, my roll is clear. I carry the purse. Mike carries the money. Why I bother working, I have no idea.

Love, The Trahans

Mulch, anyone?

Our newest phase of potty training: big boy underwear. With the excitement (and savings) of not going through as many diapers comes the fear of when, and where, Mikie may pee next. Since Mikie and I spend approximately 40 minutes in the car every morning and every night, I just keep praying that he can hold his bladder for more than the duration of our commute.

We returned home one evening, and no sooner did I turn around to put my purse down, than I see Mikie doing the pee-pee dance. You've all done it: knees turned inwards, ankles crossed, bobbing up and down, trying to will the urine to stay put. I asked Mikie if he had to use the potty. While he said "Yes", I quickly realized that Mikie's version of the pee-pee dance is clearly a post-pee-pee-celebratory dance. Like when you dance after scoring a touch down: he evidently dances after making a puddle on the carpet.

So, I rushed him to the potty, just in case there was more in there. Of course, there wasn't. So, I started to remove his urine stained clothes. As I took off his shoes, dirt came flying out, all over the bathroom floor. As if the puddle in the family room wasn't enough, I know get to vacuum the bathroom. I naively asked Mikie, "What did you do, roll in the dirt at school?" To which he responded with all seriousness, "I put woodchips in my shoes, Mom." Of course, how silly of me. Where else would you put woodchips, right? The child had enough woodchips in his shoes to mulch a flower bed. How he fit his feet in, I have no idea.

Love, The Trahans