Pee-ers Revisited

For those of you who are just joining me... You have a lot of catching up to do! LOL Actually--not too much, but this post actually is a follow-up to previous posts...  Before we moved off the hill, we had an epidemic of post-midnight pee-ers.  There was the near-miss in the pantry.  The puddle at the foot of the bed in the next bedroom.  And the bull's eye shot into the dresser drawer full of clean clothes.

Most of those nighttime escapades were somewhat anonymous.  That is no longer the case.  One of The Buddies, who shall remain nameless, has renewed his passion for peeing in assorted places.  Earlier this week I heard someone wandering about--it was late, and I thought everyone was asleep...  In he walked, tugging on his underwear.  And before I realized what was happening, he was peeing in my bathtub!  I tried to redirect him to the toilet, but that just encouraged him to wing that thing around, and his wild aiming was no longer being contained by my basin!  So--I quickly reevaluated and encouraged him to finish his business and get back to bed.

Two nights later, I heard rustling again...  I got up to check, and saw a similar sight.  The Buddy was tugging at his tighty-whities (which happened to be blue) and proceeded to wave his business around his room.  Let's be clear...  We no longer live in the contemporary house with the concrete floors!  This was not good!  So, I helped him tuck it away and hustled him into the bathroom...  which has tile...  not carpet... 

The best part (is there a best part?) came the next morning.

Hey, Buddy, do remember what you did last night?

To which he vehemently denies any such occurrences.  He honestly remembers nothing!  Truly at a loss...  What to do...?

Neighbors

We are settling into our new neighborhood.  I have to say, living on a street that is full of children is a happy change for us!  We loved our former neighbors...  We just wished there had been more of them to love!  We went from a neighborhood of vacant houses and few children to a neighborhood just teeming with friends and cohorts!  Now, if I could just convince The Buddies to tell me where they're going I'd be set!  Max has a bad habit of wandering off with any new friend he makes...  That makes it a little hard for me to find him!  We nearly called the police twice last week!  We've got to do some serious training around here!

Baptism

Today was a special day at our house. It's not every day that we get to baptise one of our children... And today, we got to baptise three! What an amazing experience to watch these three little people as they seem to grow up right before our eyes.  I am so proud of them. And even though we are new to our ward family, we felt all their love today. Thanks, everyone, for making today so special!

And for inquiring minds, who just have to know...  They were not necessarily dunked nor blessed in "birth order" and both were done in a different order...  So you can just keep guessing!  HA!

Puddles (part 3)

We have seen a return by an unexpected nocturnal visitor... Will the phantom pee-er please raise his hand?

Great. Now, you there, just stop that!

Even though the puddles have been on the bathroom tile (SOOOO grateful that they haven't been on the carpet)... I still don't enjoy mopping them up. If you could just find your way to the bathroom, and then lift the lid before proceeding to dispense anything, it would be greatly appreciated.
Thank you,

Diva

We're having a little problem with second grade. Last year, JJ had the sweetest teacher. She treated him like the favored grandchild. JJ has a tendency to get teary. In fact some little girl just called him a whiner and a crybaby. I can't say she wasn't correct. But anyway, last year his teacher would let him sit on her lap, or sometimes she would even let him call home from her phone. After a little coddling, he'd be ok and go back to his desk.

This year, JJ is taken with sick days. At least a couple of times a week I get a call from the office.

JJ is in the office. He says he's sick. Can you come get him?

Sometimes I do, sometimes I don't... But it's getting tiresome for me and for the office staff.

Last week JJ had a complete melt down at dinnertime. He was tired and hungry and just could not cope. He sobbed over his dinner plate. The Mister told him to eat and that he'd feel better... The Mister then proceeded to spoon-feed him. And happily, he became a different child.

Fast forward to an evening in front of the TV. This commercial came on...

And that is when it hit me. I think he's just being a hungry diva at school.

We talked to the office staff and they agreed to stash some healthy snacks for him. He has gone to the office for a Crisis Snack only once that I know of... And I haven't had a call to come pick him up in two weeks! YAY!

I hear violins...

In September, or maybe it was October, The Buddies decided that they wanted to take violin lessons.  They had been taking piano and voice, but their teacher was on a maternity break.  I decided we'd give it a shot and see how it went.

We went through the process of renting violins...  (I'm not stupid--did you really think I'd buy three violins!?)  I was shocked to find out that my three little guys--born 120 seconds apart--are so different in size that we required three different sized violins.  Actually--I was almost as shocked just to realize that violins came in that many sizes...  Ok--so I'm musically uninformed...  But there you have it--we've become a violin-toting, music book schlepping, early-class attending group of violinists...

Let's just say that getting three little boys out the door for school an hour earlier, twice a week, has not been fun.  Add to that the fact that we're (still) living across town from our school...  I'll just be honest and tell you that most days (ok--all days) I drive across town in my pajamas...  Scary thought!  Don't ponder that too long!

But tonight was the big payoff.  The concert.  The holiday recital.  I'd heard them practicing...  A moderately painful, albeit infrequent, occurrence...  But tonight they sounded amazing.  Granted, there were some more experienced violinists in the group, and maybe they overpowered The Buddies, but they sounded awesome!

The only thing that could have made it better?  If we'd actually been able to see The Buddies while they played...  At least more of them than just the legs and feet that peeked out from the bottom of the black music stands!

A Fart in the Tub

You never know what you will overhear when you live with three little boys.  Today was a perfect example.  We finished up with dinner and sent the boys to get in the bath.  The water was running and two of the three were in the tub when the third ran to inform us...

There's poop in the tub!

One of the tubbers hollered,

I farted!  It was probably fart!

Inspection proved that it was neither a poop nor a chunk of fart(?) but just a piece of broken leaf.  There you have it.  Excitement at the Bean house!

To Inquiring Minds...

I am happy to report that we have had no midnight marauders.  No wandering pee-ers.  No mysterious puddles.  This makes my mom very happy since we are staying in her home...  and her carpeting is very nice (and clean!).  Yay!

It's a mystery...

Really, I promise not to turn this blog into the potty chronicles.  But we found a mystery puddle.  Nobody remembers doing it.  HRH did not witness it.  It was on a bedroom floor...  Seriously gotta put a stop to the random midnight urination...

It's Becoming a Theme

OK--So I know that my blog isn't dedicated to the Sleepwalkers of America, but for some reason that seems to be an ongoing theme. A couple of nights ago HRH caught Max sleepwalking. He made a stop in the pantry to do... guess what... his business! Yes, he traveled past three bathrooms before reaching the kitchen pantry. And that is where he chose to relieve himself!

So here's the concern... Why have my triplets suddenly become uncontrollable sleepwalkers? Why, while sleepwalking, do they need to relieve themselves in locations other than the bathroom? And why is HRH always a witness to this monkey business? I think she shares some culpability--I just haven't figured out how... :)

So, really, I'm looking for suggestions. We're continuing with the pre-bedtime potty pit-stop. We're limiting fluid intake. But they still need to go to the bathroom in the middle of the night. Are they just growing? What's the deal? And what's with the sleepwalking? How do we make sure they're fully alert and aware of location before they begin their business? More suggestions, please!

Puddles - Part Deux

I'm not sure what's going on around here, but it seems to be contagious. Last night HRH wandered into our room at about 10:30. She said that Max was crying, and that he'd peed in his dresser drawers... What?! Yep, he was sleep walking and thought he'd made it into the bathroom. First drawer open took the hit.

First off, what is with the sudden upswing of sleepwalking. And why must the sleep walkers also be sleep pee-ers? And what is HRH's role in all this? She seems to be a common element...

At least Zeke peed on the concrete floor. That was easy to mop up. But a dresser drawer? That involves not only wood furniture, but also an armload of clean clothes!

I have The Buddies use the bathroom right before bed. We limit their drinking water close to bedtime... What else can we do? I'm at a loss...

Puddles

There is something disconcerting about a puddle. Not rain puddles, which are great for splashing around in while sporting wellies and carrying an umbrella... I'm referencing the puddles found in your home. Is the roof leaking? Did the washer over flow? Did the plumbing fail? None of these options lead to happy thoughts.

Then there are the puppy puddles and the spilled lemonade. Those puddles are bothersome, but hardly worrisome.

We had a different type of puddle appear under cover of a dark night. But this puddle wasn't a mystery. There were witnesses to its appearance. The Princess was sleeping when she heard a Buddy entering the room. He proceeded to pull down his pajama bottoms and "puddle" the floor. HRH, in a startled state, tried to get him to stop. But, in his sleep-altered mentality, he thought he was in the bathroom!

I have children who talk in their sleep. It may even be a hereditary thing, as I've been known to give entire speeches in my sleep... But sleepwalking is a new experience for us. We will lock the doors, make sure there is nothing to stumble upon, do everything we can to protect our nocturnal wanderer... But all I can do is hope that the puddles are kept to a minimum. And I'll keep feeling gratitude that concrete floors are so easy mopped up!

Wanted: Reliable Tooth Fairy

With three little boys, all at the tooth-losing stage, the Tooth Fairy is a regular visitor at our house.  JJ initiated the string of visits when he swallowed his first tooth at Johnny Carino's.  From there, Zeke joined the fun, and it seems like it's been at least a tooth a week ever since.  Max was a little late to get started, but he's doing his level best to catch up...  At the current count, JJ is ahead with 6 teeth, the last two within just two days of each other.

After JJ lost that second-to-last tooth, he was devastated to learn that the Tooth Fairy had forgotten to make a stop by our house.  And I have a confession, that isn't even the first time that the Tooth Fairy has been lax in her duties.  On more than one occasion we've covered for her by sneaking in a dollar that had "slipped down the side of the mattress."

Today, we find that Max will be in need of another visit.  After watching the movie The Tooth Fairy this week, I have been pondering the inexplicable reason why our fairy is so unreliable.  You would think that being assigned to a family with three little boys, all of whom are perpetually wiggling away to achieve tooth self-extraction, that fairy would understand the necessary state of high-alert attached to this particular assignment.  This assignment has the potential to be extremely high-profile, with varied challenges, and a demanding schedule.  No time for sleeping on the job here!

As evening approaches, I will make sure to do all I can to accommodate our much-anticipated, winged visitor.  Doggy will be secured in another bedroom.  The cat will be appropriately banished to the garage.  The teens will be otherwise enchanted, and the adults will feign ignorance.  Tooth Fairy, feel free to make it an early visit!  We're ready!

Meet Max

It's nearly 10pm and I just checked on The Buddies... (Technically, I was gathering laundry from their bedrooms, but whatever...) Anyway, Max peeks up from his jumble of blankets, with a big smile on his face, to say,

Mom, today was the best day ever!

And knowing Max like I do, that is exactly what I would expect him to say.

It doesn't matter what we do, where we go, how many errands we have to run, or how many things go wrong... Each and every day, Max informs me that it has been the best day ever.

A friend (also a frequent commenter to my blog--Travel By Turtle) recently linked me to an article about the contagious effect of moods. Can you imagine the happiness we could spread if we all thought that every day was The Best Day Ever? In an effort to infect the masses (or at least my family) I'm going to dedicate this week to spreading as many fun and happy thoughts as possible.

I dare you to join me! You know you want to!

Ski Day with The Buddies

I'm not sure how The Mister convinced me...  I must have been experiencing a weak (maybe semi-unconscious)  moment...  But somehow, he did persuade me that seven-year-old triplets and a tow rope seemed like the makings of a fun Saturday afternoon.

Let me just give you a heads-up.  The phrases seven-year-old triplets and tow rope should never be used in the same sentence unless you are describing some new method of parental torture.  Really.  I tried to persuade The Mister that Ski-Wee was the way to go--he had another, more hands-on, approach in mind.

I have to confess that I have done very little skiing in the past few (read 20+) years.  I traded in my skis for a snowboard in '88 and carved down the path of no return.  But even I had to admit that it would be easier to accompany a first-time skier up a tow rope if I were on skis instead of strapped to my board.

So, off we went, up the canyon to Alta.
Home of the skiers--haters of snowboards...

Upon arrival, I was obligated to don a pair of rented (and intensely uncomfortable) ski boots.  My comfy (old) Langs were left at our cabin.  I then strapped on some rented skis.  The Buddies got buckled in as well, and they hit the snow at full tilt.
  

The Buddies spent a lot of time in the following (and similar other) positions...

 

  

The Buddies each had their share of these moments as well...

 

  

 

Lots of hard work?  It sure was.

Worth it?  Yep!

 

Would I do it again?  

Sure, but you better give me a week or so to recover!

What?

Sometimes I have to wonder what goes on in the minds of my children.

The Boy stopped in this morning for a visit.  I spent the entirety of the day wondering when he was going to drop the bomb (and what was that bomb going to be?).  He had to be there for a reason, right?  To be fair, we do see him periodically (since college and his apartment aren't too far away), but still, it was a little surprising to have him here for the whole day.

Mid-morning, we decided to run to Costco for a few items.  While we were there, we ran into Zeke's first grade teacher.  I razzed her for leaving my child unsupervised, but she informed me that the class had been left in the capable hands of the student teacher.

After school, I asked Zeke if he knew that I had seen his teacher at Costco.  He did know, and informed me that she had asked if the tall, dark-haired boy with me was Zeke's big brother.  Here's where it gets strange.  Zeke went on to tell me that he had told his teacher that Mike was his big brother, but not really, and not from the same family, and that he came from a different country....?  Huh?

Let me just assure you that The Boy is in fact one of my five children.  Born of my body.  And, for the record, born on American soil.  Where do kids get these things?

And another thing, I'm still trying to figure out what prompted The Boy's visit...  Ideas?

Sunday Shoes

With four boys, some would think that we could save a little money by using hand-me-downs.  If you thought that, you'd be wrong...

First off, The Boy is twelve years older than The Buddies...  I don't know that anyone has noticed, but styles have changed a little in the past twelve years.  Even if I had kept his out-grown clothes, I'm not sure anyone could be persuaded to wear them.

And, while Z secretly adores the color pink, I'm not sure that I could even convince him to wear anything that had previously belonged to The Princess...

We try to do a little swapping from Buddy to Buddy, but that hasn't really worked out too well either.  One reason is because Z is the biggest of The Buddies, but he's also been voted "Most Likely to Shred the Knees of His Jeans" and "Most Likely to Tear the Sole Cleanly Off a Pair of Perfectly Good Shoes."

And then there's M.  I had high hopes for swaps between M and J.  M could easily hand down shoes and jeans to J, but M has a really bad habit...  He loses things...  Lots of things...  Case in point:  Sunday Shoes.

These were M's Sunday Shoes.  Were, did I say?  Yes, were, because they no longer fit him.  Why do we have perfectly new shoes that don't fit M?  And why don't we give them to J?  Because these shoes were M's previously lost shoes.  Because, they were lost (and then remained lost) for so long, they will no longer will fit anybody, including J...

The Buddies got new Sunday Shoes last spring.  They wore them to church only a couple of times before M's inexplicably disappeared.  Seriously, they just disappeared!  We looked, and looked, and looked (for months!).  Inside the house.  Outside the house.  In the car.  In the garage.  In the yard...  We couldn't find them...  Well, I finally found them (both of them!) just before Christmas.  It was an exciting event.

Usually the lost remain that way, so it was with great jubilation that I presented my triumphant discovery to The Mister.  But it was to no avail.  At some point during the Lost Season (approximately March to December), everyone had grown.  ***I guess I'd worry if they hadn't.***  In the meantime, I had refused to buy M new shoes...  I kept hoping we would find them, so we kept taking him to church in sneakers (the horror!).  But now it's been confirmed,  we get to buy new Sunday Shoes for M and probably for everyone else as well.  I'm so excited.

Anyone need a perfectly good pair of size 13.5 shoes?

Clever Little Boy...

This is Max (which may or may not be his real name)...

This is Owlvin (his actual name)...

Max made an owl at Build-a-Bear and named him Owlvin... 

Clever, huh?

Santa Claus is coming to town...

The Buddies were excited to meet this jolly, old elf!  I think this is the first year that the smiles  weren't secretly hiding trepidation.

These guys have made out their lists, and they've checked them twice. 

Now let's just cross our fingers that they'll avoid being naughty--we much prefer nice!

Baby, it's cold outside!

The Buddies and I were discussing the temperature on the way home from Grandma and Grandpa's house.  When we climbed into the car, the digital readout said it was 12*.  By the time we got out of the driveway it had dropped to 10*.  We hit 9* by the corner...  As we proceeded up the hill to our house, the temperature fluctuated between 3* and 7* finally settling at 5* just as we pulled into the garage.

It took some persuasion for me to convince The Buddies that it was actually getting colder when the numbers dropped.  They were convinced that the on board thermometer was only measuring cold.  They thought that the bigger the number, the bigger the cold.  But JJ confirmed that he understood the concept.

Max asked,

So what does it mean when it goes from 3* to 5*?

JJ,

It means that it's still reeeaaallllly cold!

Smart kid.