STINKY JOHN JONES

A little SPRING in my step!

I know.  Bad title.  But it's true.
Once the warm weather hits, I feel alive! 

Sunday, here, turned out to be a half way decent day.  By the afternoon, it was over 70 degrees and the kiddies were breaking at their leash to get outside. 

As I sat outside watching the kids play I couldn't help but remember.......

Last year at this time,  Stink was afraid of clouds.

Which amused me for the rest of the day. 
The End. 

Oh, the joy.....

....of illness.  ha!

As we know, I spent last week in bed.  From Friday evening until the following Thursday.
And let me tell you, I haven't been that sick in a long while.  A long, long while.  I think if it lasted one more day, bed sores would definitely be an issue. 

Anyway, since I couldn't actually get out of bed without my entire body having a huge tantrum, I ended up watching a good amount of television.  Horrible, horrible television.
Do you know there is absolutely nothing good on television.  Besides People's Court, which I timed my naps around, there is nada.  All crap. 

But I watched it. Because I couldn't do anything else.  I tried to cruise my peeps on the internet but I just couldn't muster the energy to maneuver the mouse. 
So for one week, I did what every other American would do in my situation.  I watched bad television.

"Oh, look at you and your healthy body jogging! Must be nice to get out of bed!" I would scream as I threw my saltines at them.

"Hey, you.  Yes, you.  The one looking to snag a millionaire on that awful dating show gone wrong.  The guy is a douche.  Can't you see that?  Just because he's rich doesn't make him a great catch!" 

"And you.  The girl who traded cars with her moron of a boyfriend who happened to wreck it and now wants his car back on Judge Judy.  What is wrong with you!" 

"Oh good God.  The secret ingredient is Venison.  If I didn't have to already puke I would!"

That was my life for a while.  It was awful.  I hate to admit it, but when I was finally able to stand upright, I actually rejoiced.  As in reaching for the sky thanking our heavenly Father I can finally function as a human being. 
And as fast as it came, it went.  Along with my sanity.  Have you ever seen what a home looks like after the main caregiver has been down and out for a week? 
Let's just say a bottle of Lysol did not due the trick. 

Sick and Tired

That is exactly how I would describe the last week. 
Sick and tired.

Considering I spent it in bed.  With the flu.  And bronchitis. 

And just as I joined the land of the living.....Chachi gets it. 

Now she is in bed.  Sick and tired. 

At least she waited her turn. 

The Great Mom Debate

I have a ton of blogs in my reader.  A ton. 
I am a quick-fire subscriber.  There, I admitted it.

However, it comes with its own drawbacks.  One, being, that there is no possible way to read each one on a daily basis.
And at times, my favorites get lost in the pack, only to be rediscovered. 

Which is what totally happened today. 

Jaci over at Ravings of a Mad Housewife (who is awesome!), wrote a post that really struck a cord.  And got me thinking. 

Spanking. 
Effective discipline?  

If you asked me this a month ago or even a week ago, I would have given a definite thumbs up.  I believe(d) spanking to be very effective in certain situations.  Child runs into street, barely being missed by a passing car?  During a shopping excursion, you turn your back for a split second and child is gone?  In both these instances, spanking can be effective to quickly make you point on just how dangerous of a situation that can be. 

But, and this is a fairly large but, I may have changed my mind. 

You see, Chachi never really needed to be spanked.  Of course, the above instances have happened and she did get a quick swat, but she was always my 'you hurt Mommy's feelings' regarding discipline child.  Reasoning with her has, most times, worked much more effectively. 
Even today. 

Now, Stink on the other hand, is a different story. 
As my Dad so lovingly says, "He is thick as a brick".
Lessons don't sink in.  It is very hard to penetrate that brain of his.  I'm not saying, by any means, that he isn't intelligent.  Just the contrary.  He is smart as a whip. 
It's the things he could care less about that don't stay put in that tiny little head of his. 
I guess you can call him....selective. 
Take for instance, the refridgerator. 
I can't count how many times he has been told to stay out.  We even have a lock on it.  Which lasted a good few days, until he found how to operate it.
One time, Dave got up at 4am to find Stink in the fridge sticking his finger in all the puddings. 
4am! 

So, after many many warnings and time outs, we resorted to spanking. 
Which worked. 
Temporarily. 
He began to listen.  Was heeding our warnings.  I didn't need to say the same thing over and over and over again. 

Now, remember when I say I may have changed my mind?
This is why.

We have had some pretty nice weather here these last few days.  And all the neighborhood kids have been outside playing. 
The other day, a couple older boys from up the street, maybe age 8 or 9, where a couple houses up fooling around.
Stink rides his scooter towards them.  Hops off.  And begins to chase them down yelling 'fight! fight! fight!'
To the point where they were running into the street to get away from him.  He's two remember. 

Of course, I called him back and disciplined him verbally.

After things settled down, I asked him why he did that. 
Stink answered, "Because Mommy, they were bad and I needed to spank their butt." 

I almost fainted. 

Our 'disciplining method' just backfired. 

How am I to explain to an almost 3 year old the difference between spanking and hitting others? How can I tell him how wrong it is to hit when I hit him?

Which is what I am left with.  How? 

What is your take on this debate? 
And have you found a good alternative method?

For more opinions visit Jaci's comment section!  Each offer great insight!

He ain't called Stink for nothin'

We have a routine.  One that we follow each and every night after work, except Fridays.  I figure, God took a resting day, so why shouldn't we, right?

Anyway, on this particular evening, Dave busied the kids while I began to straighten the house.  Making beds, doing the dishes, preparing dinner, throw a load of laundry in, etc.  Normal stuff.

As I move into Stink's room, I get the faint odor of urine.  Quickly, I dismiss it.  Maybe it's just that 'boy' smell.  You know the one.  Sweat mixed with toilet water. 

But, nope.  I couldn't be too lucky. 
Because, as I turned around to clean up his toy area, I was confronted with a puddle. 
Which was clearly urine.  On top of his train table. 

ON TOP.

Yes. 

ON TOP.

How does urine get ON TOP of the table?  He can't possibly achieve that.

ONLY HE CAN.

WHEN HE PEES IN A RUBBER FIREMAN'S BOOT AND PUTS IT THERE! 

Why?  Please, someone answer me.  Why?

St. Patrick's Day

Every year, we have a fairly large parade here for St Patty's Day.

And this year, Chachi (and Pop!) had the good fortune to ride on her school's float. 

 

They had a great time!  Well, Chachi had a great time.  Pop, on the other hand, well....see picture above!

Thanks Pop! 

Yes, Miyagi

Have you ever seen Karate Kid? 
Wax on, wax off.

Anyway, Mr. Miyagi taught Daniel many life lessons as he trained in Karate. 
Remember trying to catch a fly with chopsticks?  Classic.

So, I was thinking.  If only we had our very own Mr. Miyagi. 
He would have come in handy tonight during this next scene......

It's about 7pm, better known as bath time in our house.
I head to the bathroom to begin running the water.
As I open the door, I am greeted by a tiny hiney.  One obviously not facing the proper way if it was to be using the facilities.  The "correct" facilities. 
It took a moment for my brain to process what was happening. 

"Stink!", I yelled, "The bathtub is NOT a giant toilet!"

Which startled him.

Not a good thing.

Needless to say, I am once again washing the shower curtain. 

And the bathmat. 

Ironic......my way

I figure, Alanis Morissette, didn't quite hit the nail on the head. So, I decided to help out a bit.

Play this and sing along....it's much better that way!

An old Mom, turned ninety-eight
The kids left home, came back with eight
It's like a child's turd, in your new Burberry.
I gotta go, two minutes too late
Isn't it ironic ... don't you think

(chorus)
Its like puke, on your new comforter
Its a potty training son, and a broken washer
Its the toddler sleeping in, on a work day
Who would've thought ... it figures

Mom, I need it now, can you get it for me?
The store is now closed, the one we just left
What do I look like, your damn chauffeur
And as she turned around, they said,
"Just go back!"
And isn't it ironic ... don't you think

(chorus)
Its like puke, on your new comforter
Its a potty training son, and a broken washer
Its the toddler sleeping in, on a work day
Who would've thought ... it figures

Well life has a funny way of sneaking up on you
When you think the laundry's done, another pile appears
And life has a funny way of helping you out when
You think everyones well,  then the youngest blows chunks
in your face

It's a screaming kid, in a quiet church
You giggle to yourself, then find its yours
It's like ten thousand wipes when all you need is a diaper
It's running into your ex-boyfriend
In Mommy jeans and a snotty t-shirt
And isn't it ironic... don't you think
A little too ironic... hell yeah I really do think...

(chorus)
Its like puke, on your new comforter
Its a potty training son, and a broken washer
Its the toddler sleeping in, on a work day
Who would've thought ... it figures

Life has a funny way of screwing you over
Hubby has a funny, funny way of helping, not
I give up.

Warning: If you feel that potty talk is TMI, you may want to skip this one!

So you decided to stay.  Good for you!

We all know by now that Stink is all boy.  And with boy comes, well, boy in the bathroom.  Which is nothing to sneeze at considering the fact that I wash the shower curtain every other day due to potty mishaps.  Or just bad aim, take you pick. 

Let's take tonight for instance. 

The kids had finished with dinner, and the Hubs and I were nonchalantly chatting over our meals.  Something that rarely happens in Casa de Stink. 
Just as we were getting past the formalities, such as 'how was your day, good how was yours',  Chachi runs screaming down the hallway.

"He peed on my hand!  And my sock!" as she zooms past us while hopping on one foot trying to get the offending article of clothing off her body. 
"How?" we yelled as Dave jumped up from his chair and sprinted to the bathroom. 

Apparently, Stink hasn't mastered the art of peeing sitting down....while.....lets just say.....performing number two. 
But we still can't figure out why Chachi was standing in front of him.  Or in the bathroom with him at all for that matter. 

Moving on. 

About an hour later, Dave is in the bathroom.  Minding his own business.  Probably staring at himself in the mirror wondering why all the women of the world don't swoon over him, as he relieves himself. 
When,suddenly, the door flings open and Stink hip-checks him with his pants down declaring he too needed to go. 
At the same time. 

Ugh.  *throwing hands in the air while frantically waving the white flag admitting defeat*

TMI?

Frogs

Have you ever seen a frog in the water?  Nothing visible except their eyes, sticking out, surveying their surroundings like a submarine. 
Here, just in case you can't conjure up that mental image....

Well, thats how I feel. 
Literally. 
It's like two steps forward and three back.

Get one kid to sleep early, the other is awake until almost midnight.

Two loads of laundry done, five left.

Kitchen spotless, bathroom/bedrooms/living room looks like a tornado came through.

Playroom just about complete and ready for carpet, storage room attached to it just beginning construction. 
And have I mentioned that a 4 week project turned into 14?  Cause it did.  Literally.  And still counting. 

I have a pathway to the computer and through to the living room, as the rest of the dining room is storage for the two incomplete rooms above. 
I had to just about climb over a mountain to feed the guinea pig. 

Let the dog out Saturday around 11am.  Then I took the kids out for the day.  Upon arriving home at 7pm I noticed said dog at the gate.  I forgot him.  All day.  Outside.  And he's a chihuahua. 
Thank God he's fat, no chance a hawk could fly away with him for dinner. 

Oh, and I found a mound of cookies in Stink's bed.  Apparently he has been hording them like a hamster.  *reminder*  Need to stop that child from watching CNN....recession is getting to him. 

And I just figured out we could have gone to Disney World on what it cost to rehab these two rooms.  In luxury to boot.
A vacation would have been nice. 

So, like I was saying.  A frog.  Under water.  Only I don't have gills.