pyromania

Like mother like son.

To be, or not to be responsible for these yahoos.

So I'm making Kinzi's school lunch, signing her reading log, yelling out practice spelling words, and all the while I hear a little Ezra voice from the bathroom every few seconds "Ew. Pause. Pause. Pause. Ew" I figured he had done some logs in the tub, not like he'd never done that before. Rolling my eyes I glanced into the bathroom to gage the damage. Nope, I had not expected him to be launching his poop onto the floor! With each "crash landing" came his little "Ew" as poo splatted everywhere. It was too soft to keep it's shape. (sorry, I know that's gross) He looked up at me with his big blue eyes and apparently, talking about the tub, he said, "All clean!" I nodded, smiled through gritted teeth, and closed the door.

Our family decided we wanted to participate in the neighborhood's Litter Bit Better trash clean up. After Ezra cut his hand on broken glass, took off his shoes and socks and ran through the muddy wet grass, picked up a cigarette but and exclaiming "Gum!" popped it into his mouth...we decided that maybe we'll wait a few more years to be good citizens. We did, however, find one silver necklace and 50 cents (a dollar ripped in half). I think it was worth it.

My good friend Lorinda recently offered us a great piece of advice. To prevent diaper leaks during the night, simply apply a jumbo pad into the diaper right before bed. It works like a charm.