humming brains, muscles and tushies

As much as I am a seeker after sloth, brains are humming away here. Can a tulip survive in a glass of coffee? Daddy can, the Toddles informs us. And he may have a point.

The muscles are humming right along with the neurons. March is here, therefore we are shoveling snow. (For those of you raising eyebrows, I suggest that this would make more sense if you lived in New England.) Today, I've left the car window-deep in snow, and we're tucked inside. Waiting for a Mike who is, apparently, not coming.

Bah. Who needs a dryer anyway?

Well, maybe we do. Or at least a washing machine, and thank heavens we have one of those by now. I think. I hope. Today, the Toddles watched me rummaging around in a box of clothes and pounced. What's that? he asked, I want to wear it!

One pair of bulldozer undies later, the Toddles was earnestly promising to listen to his body, and to put his pee into the toilet. He's been firmly opposed to this plan, and I didn't expect a fun bit of construction equipment to change his mind, but hey. Got snow, got buried car, got time to play along. And a sibling to play with us.

While the Toddles sat - and got up - and sat some more - and needed to be hosed down, sat, hosed down again, sat some more - the Eldest read to him. Usually something involving poop. Or pee. And occasionally (don't ask me why) dogs.

Three pairs of construction undies later, the Mike had admitted that he was coming on Wednesday (Wednesday!!) and the Toddles had admitted that he had no intention of actually listening to his body. Low on pants and places to dry clothing, I suggested that he could have one more pair of undies, and then we'd have a break. In a diaper. To the Eldest's disgust, the Toddles took this cheerfully, and opted to go right for the diaper.

This potty training thing is not as easy as I had thought, the Eldest muttered. And retired from the business.

But hey, at least someone had fun.