it's monday

A blog post so late?

She must be pumping.

She is.

I go through "ugh, I have to pump" ruts occasionally and am currently in one. I seem to have more than I did when pumping for Monkey. I blame it on busier schedules.

I know it'll pass.

Pity, party of 1, your table is ready.

In other news, I'm sick (this is such an uplifting post) and praying no one else gets it just in time for vacation.  I am currently battling it out with a rather resilient cold.  I'd say I haven't had one like this in a long time, but I probably have. I was able to take drugs in the past and currently cannot (see above).  Add a three year old who has enough energy to power the space station and a seven month old who thinks he can walk (he can't).

That being said, I asked Monkey for some space this weekend. You know, just a break from her jumping on my head.

She asked why. We told her I was sick. You would've thought we told her I had one week to live. There were many tears and suggestions of me going to the "hospible."

All that to say, packing for vacation is not getting done. My goal of coming home to a clean house (with folded laundry) flew out the window yesterday.

We did do fun things this weekend. Like two trips to the pool and two trips to the slushy store (again, see above).

Potty training is going swimmingly (watch, I just teed us up for a set back).  Someone (ok, it was me) had the brilliant idea of telling her that at our meeting with her teacher (orientation night) her teacher asked how she is doing on the potty and while she is doing very well, she needs to practice going on the big potty.

So now when Monkey has to pee we'll ask if she wants to sit on her Mickey Mouse potty or Minnie Mouse seat. She'll respond, "My teacher says I need to practice sitting on the big potty."

I swear she's an 80 year old stuck in a 29.6 pound body (still working on breaking the big 3-0).  Constantly asking for prunes, which car we'll take, and if she can drive. Lord help us when she's actually behind the wheel.

Let's see, what else.  Oh, yes, GMac has become a grunter when pooping. I'm pretty sure the entire block can hear him.  The first time he did it we were in the car and I had to check on him when we got to a red light. "Nothing to see here mom, just poopin'."

I'm going to end this pity party and check on my facebook "friends".

Later, gators.