Fortress of Solitude?

I used to think that women get hemorrhoids from giving birth to kids. After recent events at our house, I have a new theory. I believe that women (and probably men) get hemorrhoids from just having kids in the house. I have yet to get one but I am pretty sure if this type of toileting experience continues, they are in my near future. 


Currently, using the bathroom is not a solo experience at our home, nor is it a leisure activity. In fact, the bathroom door is usually wide open and there are at least three humans and one dog in there at any given time. 


(If you fear this visual, please stop here. I am pretty sure hubby will be embarrassed by me sharing this but...well, you're all family and friends!)
Let me explain the events that led to this theory....


I had to go to the bathroom. I went in and attempted to lock the door but apparently didn't shut it tightly. After a few seconds of "Mama....are you?" and sobs and pounding on the door, Kate figured out how to open it. "Mee mum!" (Here we come!) 


So in she comes, followed by Gilbert and of course Neddy. Gilbert immediately begins licking my knee. I am not sure what was on my knee. I just knew that his licks and oddly smelling just-ate-a-dead-animal breath were making me uncomfortable so I tried to shove him away. He eventually left but not before he knocked Neddy over, stepped on her, and hit Kate in the face with his tail. This led to tears for everyone and my attempt to make it all better while sitting on the toilet.


Oh, it's not done here. It should be stated that Kate has a recent infatuation with the toilet and more specifically, poop. Every time I change her diaper she wants to "see dat?" and she tries to convince me that her poop is white. She moseyed between the wall and the toilet and tried to push against my back side and began yelling "See dat, Mama? See dat?" on repeat. 


As I was trying to tell Kate no and move her, Neddy b-lined it for the tub -- the bar of soap on the edge of the tub. She likes to bite into the soap. I had to try to reach forward to grab Neddy with my T-Rex arms while Kate was shoving me from the side so she could "see dat poop." I slid her to her bottom and shoved her toward the door but she is like a Weeble. She popped right back up and was at the soap again. As I reached forward again I heard, to my horror, Kate say, "EEEwww. Tinky mama." 


Seriously! Nobody told you to come in here! This is supposed to be a person's one place to get away! It is supposed to be like Superman's Fortress of Solitude! Instead, it is like.....I don't know? A family reunion going horribly, horribly wrong?


In writing, it seems like this all took about 30 minutes (and in real life it felt that way as I was sweating it out trying to take care of business quickly so we could all wash our hands and move on) in reality this was only about 2 minutes in the bathroom total.

Witness Pawns

Over the last year I have gained some Jehovah visitors. The first time they came to our house, they were so nice and I feel like it is rude to tell someone no they can't pray with you or for you. So, I invited them in and accepted their literature (to be placed in the reading material bin by our toilet -- right by Time magazine). They asked if they could come back and pray with us again and I thought, well....again, how do you say no to that? So I said sure.


I told hubs about it and he laughed and we had a good time making jokes about me becoming a Witness. They came back a couple more times and brought literature. I started to notice that they were making special trips to our house. They were not visiting anyone else in the neighborhood. Uh-oh! They might think I am interested instead of just polite (yeah, I can do this sometimes).


The next time I saw them walking to our house, I decided to do what the rest of you do...I hid. Yes, I grabbed the girls and played in the back room. Fortunately, the windows were open and I was able to hear hubby talking with them, "...yes, Tanya is home. Of course she would like to pray with you. Go right in..." WHAT!? 


I needed to be more sneaky the next month. Luckily, they came at nap time at our house. I was sooo "sleepy" that I "didn't even hear the doorbell ring." It was payback time! I laid on the couch and I giggled as I heard hubs respond, "Oh! That's interesting!" and "I didn't know that!" to their information on Jehovah and the end of the world. After they left, he walked back in and said, "I know you are awake. That was a dirty trick!" (Heh! Heh!Hehhhh!)


They came a few more times after that and it did actually come up in conversation that I am a practicing Catholic (that will stop them...I thought).


Well, I thought I was successful at politely telling them that they didn't have to drive all this way to our house to pray with a Catholic. I even got cocky on Saturday morning when I said to hubby, "Hey! I haven't seen my Witness friends in awhile. Maybe they got the hint!"


Not even kidding, 20 minutes later hubs shouted, "I HAVE TO GO TO THE BATHROOM!" I thought it was weird that he was telling me such a strange thing. Like I would care that he had to go to the bathroom. In fact, like I would WANT to know that he had to go to the bathroom. Who does that? Who announces their need to go to the bathroom other than a three year old still working on the whole potty-training thing? Then there was the polite knock on the door. I peeked out the window. Crap!


I went to the door and listened to her verses and accepted literature while I had both children hanging from my legs, the dog sniffing them up and down, and of course hubby was in the bathroom. Then I did a dorky thing and wished her Happy Mothers Day. She looked at me oddly and stammered, "Well....yes...um..." Stupid me. I don't think Jehovah allows Hallmark holidays!


I said good bye, thanked them for inviting me to their convention at the end of the month,  and stalked to the bathroom. I threw open the door and to my horror, hubs was sitting on the toilet with the seat down, PANTS UP, reading Time magazine, and grinning. I had been fooled again! 


Now I can shake my fist and say in my evil villain voice, "You may have gotten me this time! But this isn't the last you will see of me! Until we meet again"

Sarcasm and Drama Queens

We usually have a couple of runs of bad luck throughout the year. And like everyone says, they come in threes. Our most recent bout happened last Friday: our dehumidifier went kaput, there were lay-offs and pay-cuts at Brent's job effective immediately, and our tax return has been delayed while they "investigate" before making a decision as to whether we are worthy of our return or not.  I was unaware that the IRS had Sherlock Holmes at the ready for when suspicious citizens such as ourselves filed for an adoption tax credit two years in a row. Now I know! 


The tax return was most upsetting of the three because for the last 6 months we have been responding to every dream with "...when our tax return comes we can take care of that." This makes it seem like we were getting back millions and in my dreams we were.


Hubby and I have very different ways of dealing with the bad luck threes that come our way. I get a little bitter and sarcastic. The hubs gets VERY dramatic. It's adorable, what can I say...


MINUTES after we received the letter regarding our delayed return...
       "I just got back from Piggly Wiggly. I was buying milk. I decided to pick up an application for bagger because I thought maybe I could pick up a couple of hours here and there to make up for our delayed tax return."


(I feel that this was a bit of an extreme response. But then again, my response wasn't much better.)


       "Good idea. You should also ride your bike to the Piggly Wiggly so we can save on gas, and we should attach a basket to the front so you can pick up any aluminum cans you see on the way so we can change them in for coins."


As his application is being processed (no, I didn't let him turn it in!) and we are attaching a basket to the front of his bike (no, there is no basket!), we will just delay some of the fun stuff until Sherlock is done. But, like I told the hubs, it will be okay.