Chagrin Falls

Every two years, Terry's sister Missy opens up her home to host their Wildenhaus Family Reunion. About 20 peeps attended this year, and Ava and Grace were able to spend quality time and hang with 9 of their cousins. Terry and I were definitely able to relax and unwind while the Big kiddos took over playing with and watching the Little kiddos for the entire visit. Awesome!

Our flights this time around were soooo much easier than the last. We didn't have to worry about when was the perfect time to give the baby a bottle, do her ears hurt, does she need Tylenol, when will she stop screaming, crap - she crapped, WHY isn't there a changing table in the airplane bathroom, the list went on and on and on.

The only special item we brought for the girls this time was GUM!

Done! Easy!

We spent 6 days with family, food, games and laughs! We scored with the weather, it was gorgeous! Chagrin is so beautiful, lush and green. Stepping away from the 100 degree temps for a while was amazingly refreshing. As was being with family we haven't seen in far too long.
So much fun was had by all!

Chagrin Falls, Ohio - Summer 2010

Thank you Missy and Andy! We love you!

Even Curious George Isn't THAT Curious

1. *WHO  in the HELL would do that?

2. *WHY?

3. *WHY  in the HELL would you do that?

*ANSWER KEY:

1. Grace and Ava.

2. Because they are 3 and 4.

3. Ahem. Because they are 3 and 4.

Just like every other afternoon, this particular one I found myself wandering around the house, picking up tiny disasters left from living with two children under the age of five. I heard the girls in their bathroom. I do a walk-by and find Grace on a step stool (there is a certain irony in the term: step stool) talking to herself in the mirror, and Ava is behind her, going potty.

I leave them alone and continue picking up their messes around the house. (There is a certain irony in that phrase.)

Hysterical laughing is now coming from their bathroom. Followed with an "UH OH" and a "OH,WOW!"

Hearing those three things, coupled with the fact they are coming from TINY PEOPLE who are in
A BATHROOM, I became immediately concerned.

I marched in there as fast as I could and found the most.disturbing.event.EVER had taken place just moments prior.

If you do not wish to find out what the most.disturbing.event.EVER is, then you best X out of this Internet window.

The girls were USING A FLASHLIGHT TO LOOK AT AVA'S POOP AS IT SAT IN THE BOTTOM OF THE TOILET.

I'm sorry if you just gagged.

I'm even sorrier if you gag again when I tell you not only were they looking at the poop as it sat in the bottom of the toilet, but they put the flashlight INTO the toilet to do this. I found out that Ava dropped it DIRECTLY ONTO her poop, in order to shine the florescent beam of wonder onto her under-water excrement.

I KNOW.

THERE ARE NO WORDS.

Please be advised, just as a precaution... try to wait at least an hour or so before eating anything after reading this. I wasn't so careful and tried to eat a chocolate chip granola bar a little while ago, and well - IT WASN'T A GOOD IDEA. This disturbing scenario is likely to replay in your head several times, because after all, it IS the most.disturbing.event.EVER.

And what's so shitty about it (besides that hilarious pun) is the fact that I'M the one who suffers after something like this happens. Not YOU. You just gag and then move on with your life. This is ETCHED into my brain. A burning beacon of blue light illuminating something that should NEVER BE ILLUMINATED.

The horror!!

My children aren't the one's who suffer from this event happening either. Sure, I shuttled their tiny butts down the hallway and into their room's and promptly slammed their door's. But I'm the one who had to get the damn flashlight out of the toilet!

Poor little Ava can barely stand to touch anything even remotely dirty, so you can imagine how the punishment of simply holding the plastic bag with her poop covered flashlight inside, was difficult for her.

And as an extra punishment, that she will only experience when she's old enough for Internet access,
I present to you:

I Keep On Knocking But I Can't Come In

How was my evening tonight, you ask?

Why, it was GRAND.

NO.

SUPER GRAND.

SUPER GRAND WITH A BIG FAT SIDE OF BUSTED UP RIGHT-CHEEK BONE.

Obviously, there's a story here... and please allow me to preface this story by expressing how much I love my children. I love them like a fat kid loves cake. I gotta have them. I gotta eat them up as often as possible. Because they are adorable. And hilarious. And I digress.

There might be some foul language in this story. Not really directed AT my kids, Grace, in particular, who is the STAR of this story, but foul language directed mostly at her actions earlier this evening. Her action. Singular, actually.

---

I hear my cell phone ring. I stop. I listen. The ringing is coming from my bedroom.

I run from the laundry room, down the hall, dodge a small choo-choo train, leap over a plastic shovel and I get to my bedroom door.

I grabbed the door handle, with lots of momentum, (keep in mind I'm running)  and SLAM FACE FIRST INTO THE FUCKING DOOR.

It's locked.

I let out a little laugh, because OMG if Terry would have seen it, he would have been on the floor "ROFLMAO." (Or whatever the kids are saying these days.) Then - the pain hits and and I let out a little whimper. And then I feel the steam shooting out of my ears like it does in the cartoons. "GIIIIIIRRRRRLLLLLSSSSSS!!!!!!!"

Ava gets to me first, because, hellllloooo, she just felt the entire house shake from her mom SLAMMING FACE FIRST INTO THE FUCKING DOOR.

Ava happily tattles on Grace, and says she's the one who locked it.

I grabbed Grace and warned her about locking doors. And sternly said "What if there was a fire and you were trapped and Mommy couldn't get to you?" And blah blah, trying to make it sound serious. She starts BALLING. Huge tears, and everything.  "I scared of locked doors wiffout you Mommy!" "I don't want fire, Mommy!"

---

The key won't work. I walked around the house locking the other bedroom door knobs and of course it works for EVERY OTHER DAMNED DOOR IN THE HOUSE EXCEPT FOR THE ONE THAT IS LOCKED FOR REAL.

---

So here I sit. At the computer. Blogging.

I could catch up on Words With Friends. I could answer my phone when it rings. I could play a stupid game. I could do without the huge knot I have on my right cheek from SLAMMING FACE FIRST INTO A FUCKING DOOR. But I can't do any of those things. Because my phone is still trapped behind a damn door.

I could not be so upset with Grace. I could sneak into her room, crawl across her floor, pick her up and rock her in my arms while singing "I'll love you forever, I'll like you for always, as long as I'm living, my baby you'll be," you know, like that creepy old lady did in that one book?

I definitely will not do that. That's way creepy. I don't care what you say.

I'll settle for making her favorite blueberry pancakes in the morning, look her in the eyes and tell her Mommy's sorry for getting so upset. Then she will ask why my face is purple, and I will let her do one of her most favorite things: bandage me up with one of her Hello Kitty band-aids.

That will make it all better. :)

That,  and hopefully Terry gets home soon to figure out a way to open the damn thing.