the tale of a toilet

I have been holding out on this post for about a week.  The dear hubby doesn't want me to write it - but seeing how he is leaving me to go work today - here it is!

To start off you need a little background.  A: if you didn't know we have 3 boys and that makes life interesting to say the least.  B: we have had a few toilet incidents - including once finding an alligator in our toilet.  C: although Dear hubby works in construction - my idea of fixing things is to try anything, knowing it was already broke means I can't break it worse by trying.  D: I have no real experience in construction.

The Tuesday before Thanksgiving T2 and Dear Hubby got in a water fight.  Yes it is cold here in NC in November, no they did not care.  T2 was armed with a small watergun, Dear Hubby armed with brute strength.  Dear Hubby warned T2 that if he shot him again, he would give T2 a swishy in the toilet.  T2 not to be scared off, shot him anyway.  Dear Hubby picked our son up and took him to the bathroom and hung him upside down by his ankles over the toilet.  T2 was laughing so hard he dropped the watergun in the toilet.  Then Dear Hubby attempted to make good on his threat by flushing the toilet (even though T2 wasn't actually in the toilet and didn't get wet).  Well there went the water gun, down the drain.  GREAT - a water gun stuck in the boys toilet.  Dear Hubby had the bright idea we would fix it later, as we were leaving for Thanksgiving the next day and the boys could use our toilet in the meantime.

Boys don't always listen, and continued to use and flush the toilet. We left for Thanksgiving and came home late Thursday night because Dear Hubby was working on a job Friday Sat and Sun.  After spending all day Friday with the twins using our toilet, or forgetting and using theirs, I made hubby take apart the toilet Friday night to retrieve the water gun.  Stuck was not the word.  That water gun was wedged so far in there we could barely touch it.  We greased T2's hand with shortening and tried to get him to pull it out.  He thought the shortening was great, but it didn't do the trick.  Dear Hubby was getting quite frustrated.  We had the toilet bowl in the bathtub, a hose through the window, a plunger, every kind of tool possible and s*** flying out the back but nothing was working.   Dear Hubby decided since it was plastic he could use a propane torch and melt the water gun allowing it to move.  I left the bathroom for that one.  Somehow the idea of fire and a toilet didn't seem like a good idea to me.  An hour later he gave up - and I had decided I would go to Lowe's the next day to buy a new toilet bowl.

Saturday morning I packed up all three boys and we made the trip to Lowe's.  We found a toilet bowl for $25.00 and I was thrilled.  We then made our way through the store looking at all the lights and neat Christmas decorations that cost no less than $80.00 if the kids want it.

We came home and I proceeded to install the new toilet.  It fit and I had it all set up, only when I went to flush one of the bolts from the tank to the toilet bowl leaked.  The other problem was that the toilet seat had rusted to the old toilet and was not coming off. My father in law came over and inspected my work.  He told me I did everything right but that the washers on the tank aren't really made to work for more than one time and I would need a new washer along with a new toilet seat.  He put some sealer on it to make it work in the meantime.  Saturday night dear hubby came home and I asked him to look at the toilet.  Everything was working except sometimes it would continue to run, which had always been a problem with the toilet.

Dear Hubby went in to take a look and proceeded to break the whole contraption in the back.  BREAK IT after I had JUST fixed the toilet.  GREAT!

After church on Sunday - I took all three boys back to Lowe's to get the parts to fix the toilet, again.  I found the whole set-up for $9.00 (individually the parts cost $2 and $3 bucks a piece and I wasn't taking any chances).  The only problem was their was a 8 inch one and 12 inch.  I really thought my toilet was a 10 inch toilet, but if that was all they had I must need the larger one.  I knew my toilet was bigger than 8 inches and even went to look at other toilets in the store to be sure.

We got the set up and a new lid and went home, I fixed lunch and then went in to tackle the toilet again.  As soon as I got in the bathroom I knew there was a problem.  I had been right.  Our toilet was 10 inches (even though it says USA Standard toilet on the inside).  Apparently our toilet is from the dark ages, and they don't even make 10" pieces anymore.  I loaded the kids back up and we went back to Lowe's.  (side note: we live in the sticks and Lowe's is 20 minutes away - one way)  I was not pleased and neither were they.  Lowe's for the third time in two days was enough.

Once back home, I attmpted to fix the toilet.  Little man took offense to the tools I was using and everytime I would put something down, he would take it away and say "No, Daddys!"  That really helped me move along.  So did the fact that the toilet tank really was meant for a 10" part and I had to continue to make do with what the store had.  An hour later I was done.  YIPEE.  I yelled for the boys and we all watched as T1 flushed it for the first time.  It was great, except that it leaked.  From the same stupid bolt that was leaking before and had been fixed by my father in law.  The same washer that I had not bought a new one of because I thought it had been fixed.  Dear Hubby came home and was impressed, even if we did have to use a towel to catch the leak and turn the water off after every use.

Monday I went to Lowe's on my way home from work.  I bought the bolts and washers for a "standard toilet"  being the only size they had.  I told Dear Hubby when I got home he was NOT ALLOWED to touch the toilet.  He had caused enough problems already.  I went into to change out the bolt (not messing with the one that wasn't leaking) and the new bolt wouldn't work.  Even though it was standard, it was too big.  Apparently my toilet tank was from the land of nonstandard toilets.  I'd had enough.  I used the old bolt new washer and the thing still leaked.  I gave up, I'd had enough.

Tuesday - AGAINST ALL ORDERS - dear hubby worked on the bolt and got it to stop leaking.  One week and four trips to Lowe's later the toilet was finally fixed.

My advice to all - A: don't flush a water gun down the toilet and B: just buy a whole new set up instead of buying it one part at a time if you do happen to get something stuck in the toilet.

What have you flushed down the toilet?

The trick to getting things done is to list things to do in doable order. ~Robert Brault, www.robertbrault.com

to get a turtle?? Update

I love all the advice I am getting on whether or not to get turtles for the boys. If you don't know what I'm talking about - read yesterday's post here. If you want to know what the big deal is about reptiles read here.

So anyway - I am still decisionless. I have read some interesting stuff about water turtles and the neat kits you can buy. All Turtles.com has all this cool information to help make a decision.
But really I don't know. From all the comments I've learned that turtles live a really long time - that could be good and bad. (the website didn't tell me that part)

• Do I really want another pet? Aren't two dogs enough?
• Do I want a large glass container of water and a 2 year old in the same house?
• Do I remember what happened the last time there was a large container of water and two 2 year olds in the house?

My loving hubby asked me the last question. I had forgotten all about it. I bet my brother hasn't forgotten. See a few years back, my brother went on a trip overseas and brought us this nice stand up fish tank and all his beautiful fish to care for while he was gone. I was more than willing to take this on. They were just fish, right? Did you know 2 year olds like to feed fish? They like to feed them cool stuff, like bologna, match box cars, and blocks. One day we came home from the grocery store to find the fish tank completely white. You couldn't see through the water to find the fish. Apparently fish like alfredo noodles too.
Now none of these fish died on our watch. Even though I was cleaning the tank almost weekly, but these fish must have loved their new diet and new home. (the fish did die soon after returning to my brother's care - probably shock of a fish food diet).

So I'm still trying to figure this one out. The pet part doesn't bother me, its the two year old and pet part that bothers me.

The best thing about animals is that they don't talk much. ~Thornton Wilder

Had a Turtle

Key word being had.

We were lucky enough to get rid of the twins for the weekend (ship them off to pepaw's). I went to pick them up and trade vehicles on Sunday (easier switch that way) and found that there was a turtle crawling around the floor of the suburban. How did it get there you ask? My father picked it up off the side of the road. Does it bite? Why yes. Did he care? Not really. Did I put it in box? Of course. Not like I am going to drive around town with a turtle biting my toes. HA!

Now, if you've been following along you know what happens to reptiles in my house (if not, read here). Do you really think we need another reptile? Because I don't. But for the sake of my father we put it in an aquarium for a day. Let me tell you he did not like it and spent all night trying to get out. Not a single piece of glass was left unscathed. So we let him go. Better for him, let me tell you.

Now my loving, dear hubby (as he reads this too) wants to get them those little water turtles, but he too is scared of what may happen to them (again if you don't know read here). On the other hand, we could just make sure they feed them, just like they have to feed the dogs.
What do you think - turtles or no turtles?

Lots of people talk to animals.... Not very many listen, though.... That's the problem. ~Benjamin Hoff, The Tao of Pooh

alligator in our toilet

My biggest fear is sitting going to the bathroom and sitting down on the toilet only to have something bite me on the butt. I always look first - just to make sure nothing is in there. I know it is a crazy fear, but one time I sat down and something did get me, it turned out to be a cricket that didn't like having the lights turned out, but all the same.


A few months ago the boys toilet started backing up. Oddly it wasn't all the time, just sometimes. I had the feeling something was in there. So one Saturday afternoon when the boys were at Pepaw's and Dear Hubby and I took the toilet apart. We took the tank off, and put the whole toilet in the tub. Then we ran a hose through the window and started flushing it out.

For starters, poop came out and of course since it was just the two of us, the poop jokes started. I told Dear Hubby he this was a "poopy job" and he replied that it was all because I am "full of poop." Of course then the "poop hit the fan" and the walls. We kept filling the toilet and plunging and trying to get pressure to remove all stop ups. We spent 30 minutes watching toilet paper and poop fly, but nothing else. Then we turned the toilet upside down and tried from a different direction, all the sudden I saw a little green head and squealed.

"It's an alligator"

No really, a toy alligator was in our toilet and causing all of our problems. Now how many people can say that?

"Never insult an alligator until after you have crossed the river." ~Cordell Hull

Tyler's Day

The twins and I were on our way home from Sam's yesterday when a fight broke out.
What's new.
T2 had gotten a cherry icee and was sharing with T1, only they HAD to argue over who had the longest sip, or whether they even got a sip. Finally Mommy asked for a drink and kept the cup. Then they fought over who made Mommy keep the cup.
So me being ingenious, asked "Who can be quietest the longest?" Which worked!
Then it transformed into "Who can be the quietest while making funny faces?" Which was still working until we all got bored with it so I asked "Who can..."
T1 said, "Who can count the most road signs?" Which is a game we've played before.
T2 replied, "Noo."
So I asked again, while thinking of something new and creative, "Who can..."
T2 interrupted to say, "Who can scream the loudest?" This was immediately followed by the loudest ear piercing yell there ever was. Only not to be outdone, T1 and I proceeded to scream as loud as possible. And then, as all twins can, they both screamed simultaneously as loud as they possibly could. At this moment I was grateful for two things: One, my dear hubby wasn't in the car, he would have not approved, and two, that we were on a country road with no cars nearby - people surely would've thought we were being carjacked.

T2 - he comes up with the darnedest things. Earlier in the day I had spotted him outside walking the dog. While the dog was pooping, he was peeing. And then because the dog was done before he was, he had trouble buttoning his pants as the dog pulled him in a different direction. I couldn't resist, so I yelled to him out the back door, startling him, which caused him to step (barefooted) into the dog poop. I was about to fall over in laughter. He comes running up to me and tries to wipe his poopy foot on my leg. EWWW -BOYS!

boy: n. noise with dirt on it ~unknown

poop stories

WARNING: Post not for the faint of heart.


Everyone is talking about poop these days. I've been reading all these blogs about potty training, and boys who don't tell you when they poop, and even exploding poop. A lot of these have brought me to tears with laughter. For a laugh of your own check out I can't turn my back for one minute. So after hearing about poop, inspiration struck and I decided to write a few of our own poop stories. Again these are from three boys, so not for the faint of heart - but I will also explain what happens when you leave a huggies diaper in a pool as a side note.

Our most recent poop story happened just a few months ago to poor little Bradley. I was cooking dinner in the kitchen while my husband was out. Nathaniel came in and said "Mommy, Morgan pooped on the floor." Now at the word Morgan, I knew what had happened as this was our pup in training, and the next words out of my mouth were going to be go get a papertowel. Only my thoughts were interrupted, and I never actually heard the word floor, I just assume that is what he said. Interrupting all thought processes within the house was this blood curdling scream that immediately indicates that someone is really hurt. (amazing how Mom's can tell the difference in screams of pain, verses he's bugging me).
I run into the living room to find Bradley, standing over the poop, with his hand (that is covered in poop) trying to get the poop out of his mouth, which of course is only making things worse. EWWW, so GROSS!!!
I scoop him up and deposit him in the tub fully clothed and commence to half drowning him while I try to rinse the poop out of his mouth so that he will stop screaming. EWWW!!! Eventually his mouth is clean and I strip him down for a bath now that we have poop splatter everywhere. EWWW!


When the twins were about a year old, they got a stomache virus from beyond. I felt so sorry for them as they were pouring from both ends. At one point I picked Tyler up and he threw up straight down the inside of my shirt (so much for v-necks). For days we suffered through pedialite and diaper cream, and lots and lots of changes of clothes - for all of us. Towards the end of it is when the poop art occured. They twins had finally made it through the night without getting sick and I was thrilled to have a full night's sleep. I heard them laughing as they woke up and I went in to get them out of their cribs. Apparently Tyler wasn't quite finished with the illness. He had pooped a nice bit, and then decided to take off his diaper and spread it all over the rails of the crib. Of course we had the cribs with the nice ornate bars with all these crevices that are great for getting poop stuck in. I was scrubbing that thing for HOURS!


Now we'e all heard of swimmies, you know the diapers for going in the water. But as a new Mom and Dad, we didn't know the real reason why. Someone had given us some when the twins were little, but they were so expensive I didn't want to buy more. The twins had a small kiddie pool, I figured what could a diaper hurt. What could a regular diaper hurt. Only the whole pool. Apparently when immersed in water a disposable diaper swells, and swells, and swells until it bursts at the seams. Inside are what look like little clear plasticy rolly pollies. And they go everywhere into the water. We had to drain the whole pool, trying to collect as many of those little suckers as we could to deposit them in the trash. (I'm sure we didn't want the kids to pick them up and eat them!). It was awful! Moral, either splurge for the swimmies or buy a plastic diaper to put over the huggies.

A child is a curly dimpled lunatic. ~Ralph Waldo Emerson

ready, set, potty train!

Well, I'm ready. I went to the store on my lunch break and got all the gear.

• one potty chair (that converts to a seat adapter and stool)
• multiple CARS underwear
• peanut butter m&ms (because mommy needs a reward too)

This Fourth of July weekend, while others are off to the pool, visiting family, watching parades - we will be celebrating our own Independence Day - Independence from DIAPERS!!! We did the jam packed weekend last weekend, with the friends, parade, pool, fireworks, car burnout show (a boy thing), etc. This weekend it will be all about the potty.
Little Man started showing the signs a couple of months ago, but only recently have we been able to check them all off.

• dry through the night and nap time
• interested in the potty
• aware of when he goes
• desire to get the diaper OFF (not sure if that is a real sign of readiness though)
• Caught: sitting on the big potty, shorts off, diaper on

Most importantly its summer - (I don't train in winter) and I have a long weekend to work with. The twins were trained in the fall - turning 2 in July, they weren't quite ready - but by the end of August they were starting. I however was not prepared. Oh, I had the coolest potty chair given to me. It was able to have a picture on the lid, it had a handle and made cool flushing sounds and it had a recording of Mommy saying good job. I had special thick undies that stopped stuff from running down the leg. But after that, I didn't have a clue. I didn't know a thing about how to potty train a child, much less two. (Yes, I know, there are plenty of books out there, but I am not a self help book person).
I listened to great stories - of how I was trained in 48 hours. And horror stories - of how someone else took years. I got advice from all kinds of people (none of whom included rewards of any kind) about how often, what to say, etc. So I thought I was ready. We took the twins at the same time into our small bathroom, and Daddy showed them how it worked (I thought a man explaining would make it better - lets be like Daddy and all). And they thought it was neat, but no they didn't GET it. They enjoyed playing on the potty, in the potty, around the potty, but never actually used the potty.
I had figured T2, being just like his Mommy, would get it first. But about 2 weeks into our process, T1 all the sudden, understood. Finally, something, somewhere in there clicked and he got what was supposed to happen. A few days later he was done. No diapers, no pull ups (unless on car rides, because Mommy is a chicken), no wet bed. T2 was still not getting the whole concept. Maybe I started them too early, maybe I should've read a few books first. But I had one done and one not so done. Then one day, T2 walked in on T1 and while T1 yelled "OUT", T2 noticed his brother was doing something he couldn't. Well that was the end of that. T2 is never to be outdone by someone else, figured out what he was supposed to do and he too was done.
All of this was 5 years ago. Am I ready to try again? yes. Do I have a better strategy? yes. Do I believe that this time our son is a little more ready than the twins were? yes. Do I think it will happen in 48 hours? No. Not all of us can be that special :)

"A child can go only so far in life without potty training. It is not mere coincidence that six of the last seven presidents were potty trained, not to mention nearly half of the nation's state legislators." ~Dave Barry

ewwww

Gross \'gros\ adj 1. lacking knowledge or culture, unrefined 2. boys

I believe we have well mannered children. Even Bradley (who will be 2 on Friday) says peas, tank you, and welcome. I work hard to make sure they know proper dinner etiquette, to say yes sir and yes ma’am and how to ask for something. Others have expressed their admiration in the level of manners our boys exhibit.

They should have been there for breakfast. Breakfast is very relaxed at my house, the twins are up first and I make lunches while they eat at the counter. Tyler wanted to tell me what his friend had taught him at school, but it required getting up and giving me a demonstration.

“Mommy, did you know that if you bend your arm like this (looking at the inside of the elbow) it looks like a butt? And if you take your finger and put it in a brown shirt, and push it through it looks like poop?”

No, I did not know this, and I didn’t even want to watch him do it. Luckily, no brown shirts were nearby.

“What do you think Mommy?”

A response, this requires a response? What am I supposed to say?

“That is gross.”

I didn’t have anything better to say. Most of the grossness I can handle. Farts, burps, blood, dirt, mud, worms, frogs (just no dead ones see older post). I need to come up with some wittier comments. The other day I went in to give the twins a kiss goodnight and Tyler called me back as I was leaving his room. He had sat up on the top bunk and wanted another kiss. As soon as I was in front of him, he farted. Immediately laughter erupted from both of them. This I can handle. It’s natural (for the most part). I’ve been known to pass gas and blame it on my children. Or even pass gas while standing next to one of them. Maybe because I have allowed the ‘grossness’ to some degree they think I can handle arms looking like butts. And I can, I just need wittier comebacks. Any suggestions?

Beans, Beans

They are good for your heart,

The more you eat 'em, the more you fart!

Snakes, Snails and... dead lizards

I can handle a lot.

I don’t freak out when one of my boys comes screaming to me with blood running down his face. These are boys, this is what they do. They are going to get hurt, they are going to play rough and they are going to get dirty.

T2  fractured his leg when he was 1 ½ years old. I watched it occur; he was running down the hall, tripped, and fell on a plastic toy drum with the drumsticks tethered to it. And started crying for Mommy. I comforted him and told him to go play. He didn’t want to walk, but he quit crying. He sat on the floor and played. I thought it was odd, but my mother in law and husband agreed, nothing was wrong. I took to the doctor the next morning and he thought nothing was wrong either. But the x-rays showed something different. Apparently kids bones are so soft, they don’t hurt unless they are actually in use.

I am not squeamish at the sight of spiders, mice, worms, or lizards. The twins love for me to dig worms out of the garden for them, and actually fight over who gets the next one. We catch frogs on the side of the pool. Last summer they were on the hunt for the small garden lizards. T1, my quick and quiet one, was sure to catch one, considering he can catch flies with his bare hands. But it was T2 who finally caught the tail of one, only to pull it off and run to his Daddy squealing because the tail was still moving in his hand. We watched that lizard regrow his tail over the next couple of months. My father, feeling sorry for the twins, caught a lizard for them. I brought him home, along with an aquarium I’d acquired. I knew it wouldn’t last, but they wanted to keep the lizard for a pet, and hey – it’s better than a snake.

For a time, they took care of it. Then one day, one of the twins came running up to me, upset because the lizard was missing. I figured he was hibernating in a nice new home, somewhere outside the hands of 6 year olds. As fall faded into winter, the lizard was forgotten.

This past Saturday, I was sitting on the couch tickling my almost innocent one. Little man doesn’t know what a worm is; he just picks it up like dirt and drops it back down on the ground. T2 was helping me and we were having a laugh fest on the couch. T1 walked up and said “Mommy”, actually he may have said more but as I turned around to face him, 2 inches from my face was the DEAD BODY OF THAT LIZARD. I screamed so loud that T1 dropped it, ON MY LEG. I jumped up and screamed again and again, “GET IT OFF ME.” I was freaking out. My husband walked in the front door, as I tried to escape the living room. T1 asked me what was wrong and I didn’t even know how to respond as my husband was doubled over in hysterics. T2 asked why I was afraid of it and I replied “Mommy is a GIRL! Take that thing outside!” Being boys, the twins agreed with their father that this was the funniest thing they had seen in a long time. T1 proceeds to chase me into our room, where I locked the door, only to have him push it under the door while cackling with laughter.

Eventually my husband convinced him to get rid of it – outdoors.

Yes, Mommy is a girl. I can handle a lot, just not dead lizards.

Footnote: I am grateful to the neighbors who didn’t let T1 bring home the dead black snake that Monday. I am forever doomed now that he knows Mommy doesn’t like dead animals.

What are little boys made of?

Snakes and snails, and puppy dogs tails

That's what little boys are made of!