We bring you live, updated information concerning the ongoing at school potty training.

Day One of Jocelyn Wearing Underwear to school ended with about 4 accidents at school.

Day Two: No accidents. NONE. The parents of Jocelyn were found in a state of shock, and could not be reached for comment.

This reporter surmises that pooping in the potty may still be a hurdle, but all the trepidation over sending Jocelyn to school in underwear was needless.

In other news, the cats in the Crazy Mokes household have been yakking up hairballs all over the carpet, so watch where you step. More at 11.

This happened just so straight out of the blue in the middle of the usual dinner chaos that it left me and James staring at each blinking, thinking, “Did this really just happen?”

Ethan: Daddy, what do you want? (i think he was refering to like, the salt or something, but James went with it.)
James: I want peace on earth. Goodwill toward men.
Ethan: HA!
James: What about you mommy?
me: I want my kids to be happy and healthy.
Ethan: YEAH!
Jocelyn: I want my friends TO! BE! HAPPY! (fist in the air, all black panther, FIGHT-THE-POWER-like)
me: You do?
Jocelyn: YES! HAPPY! (fist! fist!)
James: How about you Ethan?
Ethan: I like FLOWERS and KITTIES!!
me: Well ok then!

It was very cute, and kind of surreal.

Hard to beleive my baby is so big. Seems like this was only yesterday:

So I mentioned to Jocelyn’s afternoon teacher (I pick up, James drops off) that we did underwear over the weekend, and she told me that we could totally send her in underwear even if she wasn’t totally ready. “Just send in A LOT of changes of clothes.”

So this morning, she went to school in her Dora the Explorer panties along with a bag of about 12 changes of clothes, including some socks. I plan on doing laundry tonight. And baths.

It will be so nice to have her potty trained.

To me, the milestone of when little ones leave babyhood behind is when they’re out of diapers, and when they stop sleeping every which way in the bed. She’ll be out of diapers soon *knock on wood* but she does still sleep every which way.

Of course, I’m totally kidding myself with this, because yesterday? When I bought her a 4T shirt? It fits her FINE. FOUR TEE! She’s obviously not a baby. Her big 4 year old brother wears 4T! MY LITTLE BABY GIRL!! HOW DID THIS HAPPEN?

– amy wishes for the soft velvety skin of a little baby. amy will have to babysit for Tamara & Andrew a lot.

“I am not really make-up-ey.” (Can I be any more of a dork? She knew that just looking at my blotchy face!)

“Mousse? Mousse foundation? Do you still have that?” (because I got some long ago, when I was preparing for my wedding, which was, oh SEVEN years ago.) (and yes, they did still have it, and it’s awesome.)

“Sheer? What does that mean exactly?” (It’s a scale of how much makeup it looks like you’re wearing. Sheer = not much at all! less sheer = Tammy Faye Baker! Oh the things I learn! the mousse foundation is very sheer.)

“Face soap? In bar form? So I can stick it in the shower and might actually USE it?” (Didn’t have that, but had some other neato stuff that is a wash and toner all in one. Since I don’t know what toner is, I was impressed.)

“Oooooooh. This smells nice! Maybe I’ll tell my husband to get me some for Christmas.”
“Tell him it’s called, Blah blah blah blah.”
“(already forgotten) … I’ll just tell him to get the purple bottle.”

I haven’t stood at the make-up counter in a major department store for quite some time. I used to just trust my mother to look at me, shake her head in disappointment, and then give me stuff in hopes that I might, one day, use it. Now that I’m older, (and much farther away) now I just don’t really do anything. I put on some mascara if you’re lucky, and for a cleaning regime, sometimes I swipe my face with the Dove bar in my shower (soap, not chocolate covered ice cream), but not very often, because it leaves my face feeling tight and extra shiny.

So, I WOULD be good for another 7 years with no standing at the make-up counter, except that the counter lady gave me samples of a moisturizer (Perpetual Moisture 24 hr lotion) that make my face feel like satin, especially after I use the wash/toner stuff in the shower.

So I am going to have to get me some of that.

My mother must have gotten to her somehow.

QUICK NOTE:

In lieu of hosting this blog on the borg collective in our basement, James has purchased a hosting plan, and it’s moving over to a server which promises connectivity EVEN WHEN OUR OWN INTERNET IS OUT. How cool is that? So, it’s actually moved, but the DNS takes a day or so to update. Hopefully you won’t even notice anything. Just know that now, Crazy Mokes is even cooler. Just FYI.

THE KINGDOM OF MALL

I’ve discovered the way to withstand the holiday scroogocity that comes from entering into any retail location which bombards you with Christmas music.

(Even when it’s the same Christmas music that I, myself, play at home (harry connick jr, ella fitzgerald, bing crosby) it still sucks the life out of me when I’m in a store. Plus, it ruins the music so I don’t want to listen to it at home, even though it’s my favorite.)

Don headphones.

Blast ipod.

Ignore salespeople (and other customers) until you want questions answered or aid getting things down from top shelves or your credit card swiped.

Yes, this means that I ventured out into the Kingdom of Mall, where fake Santas reign and holiday cheer is strictly enforced on all unfortunate mall citizens (employees). Not only did I enter the Kingdom of Mall, I went to Tyson’s Corner, which is like going to the very Kingdomest of Kingdoms, not just any old Kingdom. The crowds weren’t too bad at all, and I reaquainted myself with the Elizabeth Arden counter at Macy’s, where I spewed lots of nonsense and the lady didn’t judge me too harshly.

Lest you think, “Oh she just stopped in at Macy’s and then left again. That’s not really a visit to the Kingdom of Mall,” I also went to: Pottery Barn Kids & Payless Shoes, all of which were at opposite ends of the Kingdom, and therefore maximized time spent amongst it’s citizens and visitors. Total time spent: 2 hours. I don’t think I’ve spent that much time in a mall since high school.

ENOUGH ABOUT THE MALL ALREADY

The James’ work holiday party was good. The entire time, I kept reminding him that already, with the presence of fake gambling tables, it was better than my work holiday party will be. This thursday we shall see if it is so. Another reason it was/will be better: The dancing boob girl. It was an incredible sight to behold, and no one at our table could look away, hoping against hope that those magnificent orbs would somehow escape their bonds and start dancing of their own accord. Oh, dancing boob girl, how we were sorry to leave the party, and thus, have to stop watching you. Later discussion among friends involved opinions on whether they were original or enhanced, and let me state for the record, the amount of jiggle to those boobs makes me state firmly: REAL.

When we picked the kids up at the school at 11, I had guessed that Ethan would be asleep and Jocelyn wouldn’t be. I was wrong. When I walked in, they said Jocelyn was asleep, but in truth she had just been lying there wide awake. Ethan however, hopped up after watching his favorite movie of all time, Cars, was racing around the room in his jammies like a bullet with 2 other little boys, holding a toy car and making brrrum! brrrum! noises. Saturday morning was the first time we have ever slept in since Ethan was born. I’m defining “slept in” as, in our own house with no extraordinary circumstances, like grandparents who get up and take the kids downstairs so we can sleep in. We all slept soundly until about 9am. It was WONDERFUL. Now we know that all we have to do to sleep in is keep our kids up until 11pm at night. Wheeeeee.

HOUSE STUFF

So, bouyed up by my parents imminent arrival (shoosh, i know it’s still like weeks away) the boy and I went downstairs to work on the laminate flooring project that has been lying dormant since it was started a month or so ago. We got a few rows done, when I then ran into a snag. I’ll probably go into it in more detail in another post, but let it suffice to say that we’re going to have to cut some boards down lengthwise, which will be a pain, especially since we don’t own a table saw, only a circular saw. I was bummed, because it would have been nice to knock a good chunk of that out.

So just to take the sting out of that, let me say that I cleaned the pantry out. Trust me. It was bad. And now, it’s all sparkly clean! So at least something was done this weekend. It wasn’t ALL just sleeping in and watching boob girls and giving up in frustration at laminate floor laying and letting Jocelyn pee everywhere. Oh. Right. You don’t know about that yet.

PEE, PEE, PEE PEE PEE!

The weekend we tried to take some potty training steps with Jocelyn. Which basically means we put big girl underwear on her, and she made small puddles in various locations around the house throughout the weekend, including on the couch. We went through every pair of panties she owns. At one point, James said something like, “Wasn’t it a lot easier with Ethan?” I just laughed. Ethan took months, and would only sit on the potty after I invented an intricate reward system involving stickers and M&Ms. You laugh now, but just wait until YOU try to convince a 2-3 year old to sit on the potty for more than 5 seconds. She knows how to go, and if she has to go and you sit her on the potty, generally speaking, she’ll go. It’s the getting her to STOP whatever she’s doing when she realizes she needs to go, and go sit on the potty that we’re having trouble with.

The tough part is while yes, we tried over the weekend, now it’s monday and she goes off to school and .. well, now what? Do we send her with underwear on and lots and lots of changes of clothing? Because they would need them. I’d like to have her a little closer to trained before sending her to school in underwear, but I don’t think that is going to happen in just the 2 days we have over the weekend. I guess we need to talk to her teachers and see. Maybe we can make some progress over the Christmas week off from school they’ll be taking.

My baby. She’s getting so big! Sniff.

– amy wishes you a very happy monday

OK, just a few quick things.

First of all. LOOKEE LOOK LOOK! I DID find a tweezer!

Actually, I didn’t, but a nice lady named Marcia did some business with some wax, and now I look PHABULOUS! OK. Maybe me not so much, but MY EYEBROWS. THEY LOOK PHABULOUS!

Take a look at the before.

See? MUCH BETTER. OK. Enough about my eyebrows.
Second of all: Would all you people who decide to go christmas shopping first thing and therefore are crowding my commute with more cars that one would believe possible PLEASE JUST WAIT AN HOUR AND THEN GO?

You have my thanks.

Third: POKER.

I have been informed at at this evening’s holiday party held by my husband’s company… there will be poker. Fake money, but poker none the less. It makes me wish we hadn’t gone with the school’s “Parent’s night out! But pick their asses up by 11.” and gone with the babysitter who’s mother doesn’t mind if we bring her home around 1am. We will probably have to leave all the open bar and fake gambling around 10:15 in order to get the kids in time.

Still. POKER! It’s been so long I’m salivating. We need to have a poker night. Are you in? Not YOU, weird person who lives in another state, YOU, person who lives near me and actually has seen me in person before. I may even allow folks who haven’t seen me before. I still love you though, weird person. Really. Oh, go ahead and fly in, weird person, IT’S GONNA BE A POKER NIGHT!

Obviously, I need to get out more.

-amy checks her dosage.