lucky, lucky, lucky day

I have really been debating whether or not to buy Henry an exersaucer.

On the one hand, it would provide a safe place for him to sit and play; on the other hand I don't want to "stick" him in something and not allow him ample opportunity to practice his creeping and crawling skills.

Also on the other hand, I've had reservations about forking over $80.00 for something he will outgrow in less than six months. And do I really want to take up a valuable corner of our house with a big plastic contraption?

I had an exersaucer for the triplets. I also had a jumperoo. And a walker. Each of these items were sold for a fraction what I bought them for, about three months before I found out we were expecting Henry. Since Henry has been on the move, I've been barricading him behind folded-up gymnastic mats and our ottoman. If necessary, I'll put him in the small playpen for containment.

But today, after he toppled over and smacked his head on the floor, I decided that I needed to get something to keep him entertained during those times I'm chasing a child down to put their shoes on.

So, I loaded the kids up and we took off for Babies R Us. All told, this outing took me a solid two hours and a lot of hassle. Because when you go in to a store like Babies R Us with three three year-olds and an infant, your three-year olds are going to think that everything is for them to touch and lick, and you just might want to make sure you took an Excedrin beforehand.

Even though I rapidly searched through the boxes to be sure that I was purchasing one that had minimal cuts and tears, when I returned home, I discovered that there were critical parts missing. As in ... the legs that hold the thing up were gone. So, this is going back to the store and we're not getting another one. Because when I opened the box and looked at it, I determined that we really don't have the space for this monstrosity and $80.00 is too much money for a bunch of plastic that I'll be lucky to sell for $15.00 at a yard sale. When the baby needs to be contained, he can go in the playpen we already own.

I love it when my logic comes full circle and it feels like I just found four $20.00's in my wallet.

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Elizabeth flipped bunny in to the toilet today.

For her sake, it's extremely fortuitous that this happened while we were at home and not at Babies R Us. If bunny went for a swim in a public toilet, there are no guarantees that he would have come out again. Even in our own toilet, I briefly considered telling her that bunny was going to live with Nemo and Dory.

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Doulala sent me an e-mail today informing me that my etiquette school post that I deleted last week was still in her Google Reader. So for those that missed it and wished they hadn't, read on. And for those that didn't miss it, but wish they had ... here I am doing push-ups with my little workout buddy.

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Very little grosses me out anymore.

I mean, I've got triplets that are in the midst of potty training. There aren't very many things that are as unpleasant as what I have to face several times a day and I've become rather accustomed to the ickiness.

I've removed huge poop pancakes from the inside of underwear, caught my children dipping their toy fishing rod in a used potty chair in an attempt to "catch a fwish", and have used public restrooms with three kids who have been known to open the tiny little trash can and pull out what they thought was a small kaleidoscope. Because I guess if you don't know any better, a tampon applicator does kind of resemble a toy.

I went in to potty training thinking that it would be easier and probably less painful to pull my bottom lip over my head. Make no mistake: I still believe that. Although, I'm not nearly as disgusted with the potty-training process now as I was when this whole thing started 16 or so months ago. I guess I've just resigned myself to the fact that this is my life, after I cleaned poop out of our Weeble-Wobble Tree House and off the carpet an untold number of times.

Remarkably, I have never gagged. But, I have called Charlie at work and said something along the lines of "I'm cleaning up the carpet from one of our children and I seriously don't remember the last time we fed them corn."

Having children has made us incredibly aware of bodily functions for bodies other than our own. I will excitedly show my husband the contents of a Q-Tip that was swirled around the outer ear of our child after their bath, and I'll gasp in awe when my husband shows me what he suctioned out of our child's nose during the height of a cold.

So this morning, when I came galloping out of the bathroom yelling "Whoa dude, check this out!!" and then proceeded to display the clog that had been prohibiting me from breathing through my left nostril for the past 24-hours ... I didn't even think about how unromantic my behavior was until after I showed my husband the contents of my Kleenex.

I'm not sure when exactly it happened, but sometime during the course of my motherhood, I've turned in to an 11-year old boy.