The Case of the Vanishing Turd

The strangest thing just happened...

Trent is still pooping in the Pull Up that he wears during his nap. As usual, I sat him on the potty before I put down in his bed and tried to get him to poop to no avail. So, I put his Pull Up on his and put him to bed and turned on the video monitor. Like clockwork, the second I shut the door, I can hear him pushing and grunting through the monitor. I let him finish and then went back in his room to change him.

Now, here's where it gets interesting...

I put Trent back to bed and then walked over to the changing table where I then meticulously wrapped his golf ball sized turd (he clearly needs to consume more water today) in his diaper. Suddenly, my dog, Blue, barked from behind me which made me turn around and jump. As I did so, the turd flew out of the diaper but I spun so quickly, I didn't see where it went! The diaper felt lighter so I checked it to make sure that the turd was in fact, gone and it was. The diaper was turd free. I glanced around the room and didn't see the missing piece of poop.

I then dropped to my hands and knees and searched every square inch of that room and I could not, for the life of me, find the missing poo! The entire time I searched, Trent was staring at me and saying his standard remark after he poops, "Poo poo is yucky." I searched under the dresser, the crib, inside the crib, etc. but that darn thing is gone!

The only thing I can think of is that Blue quickly inhaled it much like my parent's dog ate Trent's poop that one time I blogged about months ago. I guess it's pay back because that turd has vanished! I will search one more time once Trent wakes up from his nap but for now, I have deemed the incident "the case of the vanishing turd." Detective Tianna is on the matter and I am bound and determined to solve this darn mystery!

First Camping Trip of the Season

We just got back from our first full-weekend camping trip with the boys and we had a blast! Fortunately, my dad and little brother met us in Truckee to partake in a few days of fishing and dirt bike riding along with eating and throwing back a few cocktails. Luckily, my dad came along too in order to keep my company while Mark and my brother, Gabe, rode on the trails.  Let me preface this by saying that I am NOT a camper. I just am not into sleeping on the ground in the cold, especially with two kids which is why we bought a trailer a few years ago. My husband has some property in Truckee that we park the trailer on all summer long and visit whenever we want. It has it's own private lake, fun trails to ride the Rzr on and beautiful scenery to enjoy. Reluctantly, I must admit that it has grown on me as well! My husband loves it up there and it is slowly growing on me as well. 

Here are some pictures from last weekend's camping trip. 

Trent caught a fish with Uncle Gabe and Daddy. Reeling the fish in with Trent was a highlight of the trip for Gabe. 

He is not afraid to touch a fish!

Trent hanging out with Uncle Gabe, or as Mark referred to him when he was in his riding gear, "the Ninja." 

Trent loved wearing Gabe's riding gear. 

Jagger hanging out in the trailer

Trent is very stylish while camping. 

Papa with little Trent. They both look so dark in this picture! 

Add Me to the "People of Walmart" Photos

If you have read my blog before, you know that I am not the biggest fan of Walmart, mostly because my son usually makes a spectacle of himself there and because all of the old people find it necessary to touch my children's faces which annoys the you know what out of me. I swore that after the last Walmart incident, I would not return again and I have held fast to that promise for the last few months. Well, I broke down and went this morning because I was in need of camping accessories that they carry there and unfortunately, my trip was eventful as always.

I brought a purse full of distractions for the Trent Monster, one of which was a toy truck. I handed it to him as I searched the car for my favorite baby carrier of the moment only to discover that my dear husband took it out last night and packed it for our trip this weekend. So, I was beyond frustrated to see that the only carrier he left for me was the one that is quite difficult to put on by myself. After much wrangling, I got Jagger situated on my chest and Trent was happily playing with his truck in the cart. Mistake number one was that I gave him his truck too early because he was over playing with it by the time we got inside of the store.

I calmly told him that he had to be a good boy while mommy shopped very fast. I had my list in hand as I began to book it through the store. Trent soon began to toss the truck out of the cart over and over again. Mistake number two was that I didn't take the truck away from him after the third, or even the second time he hurled that damn truck out of the cart. After what seemed like the 100th time of throwing the truck (in reality it was probably the sixth time) of the cart, I told him that if he threw his truck one more time, I was taking it away for good. What did he do? He looked me straight in the eyes and threw the truck once more. I swear, that kid tests me 1,000 times per day. So, I bent down to pick up the stinking truck only to hear the unmistakable sound of cloth ripping. Yup, my pants split from crotch to butt cheek. Let me preface this by saying that my husband recently asked me why I was still wearing my maternity jeans when I have been able to fit into my pre-pregnancy jeans since I gave birth. I tried to explain that I loved my maternity jeans because they were so comfortable only to have Mark give me a look like "you need to pack them away with the rest of your maternity clothes."

This morning, I took his advice and broke out my favorite old pair of jeans. You know the kind of jeans I'm talking about. You've had them for years and can't bear to throw them away because they are just so soft and comfy. Those are the jeans I put on this morning. I've had them so long that they are worn in various places but I can't manage to throw them away. Well, apparently I should have thrown them out a long time ago because those suckers split. I instantly threw my hand down toward my crotch to feel how bad the tear was and all I felt was the skin of my inner thigh and my butt cheek. I was beyond mortified but what could I do? It took me two seconds to realize that I had to jam even more quickly through the store and get my shopping done. It took me two more seconds to realize that I could be one of those people in the "People of Walmart" Photos that I often get emailed to me from my crazy friends. I am hoping that the only thing that distinguishes me from those trashy people is the fact that my rip was not intentional...at all. I did not go to the store thinking, "Damn, I look good with my ass cheek flapping in the wind for all the world to see."

So, if by some crazy chance you do see me grace the "People of Walmart" photos, know that the rip in my pants was by accident and not on purpose ;)

What's even worse was that I was not about to drive 30 minutes out of my way to go change when I still had to go to the grocery store so that is exactly what I did. I went to Raley's and practically ran through the aisles, not even stopping to talk to those who work there like I usually do. Hopefully this is the last of my accidents today and the rest of the day will go smoothly.

Now, I'm off to toss my beloved jeans into the trash can where they belong!

The Scary Face in the Video Monitor

I know that this blog talks entirely too much about poop but I can't help it...I have a little boy and he is obsessed with the brown stuff as disgusting as that is to both you and to me! I apologize in advance but I have yet another story about caca, which is what I called it when I was little. Believe me, I yearn for the day when I no longer have stories about poop.

This weekend, Mark's sister came to our house for an impromptu visit along with her husband and daughter who is about three weeks older than Jagger. We went to our town's annual summer parade, carnival and bull riding event. We had a great time! Anyhow, after the parade full of old men driving funny cars and twelve year olds driving hundred thousand dollar tractors, we went to the carnival and walked around for a bit. We didn't stay long because Trent needed to go down for his nap. As usual, Trent fell asleep on his way home, so I took him out of the car and put him straight to bed where he continued to sleep for about ten minutes. In the meantime, I took Jagger to my room to nurse him and cool off from the heat.

I turned Trent's video monitor on, put Jagger on the boppy and began to let him chomp away. Suddenly, I heard Trent say, "Poo poo yucky. Poo poo yucky." I rolled my eyes and yelled for Mark but he was in the backyard, relaxing in the kiddie pool. Yes, you heard it right...he was sitting in Trent's pool with a beer. Not wanting to pull Jagger off the boob just yet, I called Mark and told him that Trent had pooped. Clearly annoyed, yet being the fabulous father that he is, Mark dried off and came into the house to change Trent.

I continued to nurse as I watched (via the monitor) Mark pull Trent out of his bed and then disapper from view as he changed his diaper. Suddenly, I heard a stern, "Tianna," come through the speaker. I picked up the monitor and was shocked to see a very scary face looking back at me. I did not see my handsome husband in that tiny screen! No, I saw crazy, pissed off eyes glaring at me through the video screen. My husband was kind enough to reenact the scene for me just so I could take a picture of it and post it on my blog. Below is a version of what I saw, although in reality, he looked much more angry and not like he was trying to suppress a smile. Here it is:

When I didn't get there quick enough, he moved in for the kill and I then saw this...

I have to admit, I laughed out loud. Seeing my husband's mug that close up was surprising to say the least. Mark's voice continued to boom, "Tianna, I need help in here NOW." Hearing the tone of his voice, I knew it had to be serious and luckily, Jagger had finished eating. I quickly made my way to Trent's room where I discovered a fully disrobed toddler staring back at me innocently along with a very angry husband. I asked what had happened and was soon mortified when Mark explained in his most disgusted tone that our adorable son had decided to paint his room in his own poop! I've said it before and I'll say it again....what is it with my son and poop?!

Anyhow, Trent had decided to paint his sheet, bumper and stuffed animals with the yucky stuff but unfortunately, it didn't end there. Nope, he threw some on the world's largest teddy bear which sits to the left of his crib. Needless to say, it was quite the task to clean it all up.

I yearn for the day when my kid loses his interest in his own poo!

On a happier note, we had a great weekend with Mark's family. Here is a picture of the babies, hanging out.

And here they are, staring at the fan:

Here's the chunky monkey moving and grooving:

Where is that Play-Doh From? Wait...that's NOT Play-Doh!

The most disgusting thing just happened...

Trent walked up to me as I was curling my hair in the bathroom and he held his hand out toward me as he rubbed his fingers together. Let me preface this by saying that he has been on a Play-doh kick lately. Last week, he left his black, brown and red Play-Doh containers outside and they dried out and needed to be tossed in the garbage. So, you can imagine my confusion when Trent seemed to being playing with what looked like brown Play-Doh from afar.

I looked at my little monster and asked, "Trent, where did you get the Play-Doh from?"

Trent smiled brightly as he continued to smash his fingers together and he said, "No, Ma Ma. Poo Poo. Poo Poo."

I nearly threw my curling iron across the room. I ran over to him, grabbed his arm and the unmistakable stench of crap hit me, causing me to nearly vomit in my mouth. Trent had apparently stuck his hand in his big boy underwear and withdrew a handful of crap. What possessed him to do this, I have no idea because he seemed to have gotten over his obsession with poop. Normally, he screams, "Poo poo is yucky" whenever he poops himself or when he comes across the dog poop in the yard so I was shocked, not to mention disgusted, to have to sanitize my child's poop filled hands.

Another semi-gross moment happened the other day when Trent ran into the house, screaming with excitement and begging me to come outside and look at a bug he found. He has a new obsession with bugs and normally, I catch him trying to pick up an ant or a ladybug. So, I got up from the couch, Jagger attached to my boob, to go look at the new bug Trent found in the yard. He ran to the door and started screaming, "Ahh...bug...cute," over and over as he pointed to area just outside of the back door. I stepped outside and screamed my bloody head off! Trent was poking the biggest beetle I have ever seen in my life. This was no little stinkbug, ant or ladybug. It was a gigantic, thick-bodied, beetle of some kind. I instantly screamed, "Don't touch, Trent. Yuck!" which scared the crap out of Trent who had previously been so proud of his new discovery. He started screaming. I was trying to rip the baby off of my boob as I grabbed Trent's arm so that I could bring him inside to wash his hands. It was quite the scene, let me tell you! I know this will be no where near the last time my little man plays with bugs (or poop). Yuck!

Needless to say, there is never a dull moment with boys!