#BadBaby and the Mermaid Who Goes Potty.

 Bad Baby will be two years old at the end of July. She is potty trained --except… (expect me to say “except for #2?”) No… Except for when she sits in her high chair. Ok, except for when she stands in her high chair, because this kid loves to build herself Jinga towers and see if she can make my heart stop and how fast I can run. 

     I used every single method suggested across every generation (except using a mini potty. Thats my line) She got stickers/candy/cheers and anything else on the planet to potty. Then one day I said, BadBaby, time to go potty" ... "NOOOO". ... "Fine, I am going to take your mermaid potty first" DONE. Bad Baby happily uses the toilet. 

Please don’t think I am bragging. A lot of hard work and SHOUT and Vinegar went into this. (The fabric spot treater not yelling) I put in a lot of work for this, so let me say- It is truly mind boggling that we can be out of the house the entire say and she ASKS when she needs to go. The moment she sits in or stands in that chair she pees all over it. Like a automatically timed light switch. click.  Before we sit down to breakfast, lunch, dinner, one of the 15 snacks she requires we go to the use the toilet. Sometimes it’s her turn first, sometimes it’s her mermaids turn first. This mermaid. I’m pretty sure she is nicer to this chick than she is her brothers and sisters. She talks sweet to her, uses gentle hands, nurses her, cuddles her in bed. Siblings? They get bit. Another blog for another day.

Plan B. ? I got nothing. Other than letting her clean it, because lets just say I’ve done my share over the last thirteen years. 

I am considering getting rid of the high chair and going back to the one not attached to the kitchen table. Let’s see how that works!! But, ours is wooden. Gross. I was hoping to finish this article with, "this morning was different! She didn't do it!!!!" 

...as I sit here typing, "I pee mama" Excuse me? No. "Ok Bad Baby, let's get cleaned up." 

"No, thank you Mama. I reading."

I appreciate the help, but no.

My oldest offspring is an almost 13 year old girl. She's just like me; I can't decide if she's my favorite or if I should give her up for adoption. Maybe send her to a convent!!! ...We are Catholic!

I was in the dinning room cleaning up, (because that room is still the place where evil toys go to plot to kill us) and I yelled to my precious and helpful oldest daughter, "#1 will you please do the dishes?" I heard some kind of a grunt coming from the bathroom meaning she acknowledged I was speaking to her. #1 is training to be a mother in... 25 years and often pretends she is going to the bathroom in order to hide from her younger siblings. She acts like I don't know what she's doing. Ha!

Anyways, along with her grunts I heard Bad Baby's battle cries as she bounced down the stairs. No, we don't have gates. We tried that. Now we have HUGE holes in the sides of the walls from where the gates went INTO the walls.

That really happens! MAKE sure you find the support beams!!!

I heard her "singing" all the way down the hallway, but I didn't consider what she could be up too. 

I hear the water running in the kitchen running and plates being tossed around. I yell "Hey! I'm sorry you have chores! Don't take it out on the plates!!!!!!!" Then, I walk into the kitchen when I hear one hit the floor... because her butt is grass. 

You've got to be kidding me. 

She didn't even notice I was standing there she was having so much fun. Please excuse the red tint, I'm no photographer. ...Oh wait! hahaha Try as I might, it's always the cell phone the closest. 

I said "No No Bad Baby, Baby A!!" She looked at me laughed. Big ol belly laughs. When I asked her how she managed to get up there she shrugged. Clever my little stunt baby, clever. 

*Bonus: That tiny brown chair is kept in the kitchen in a corner. We call it "The Bad Choice Chair" because when you make bad choices you must sit in it until, A. You're done crying/pitching a fit or B. I'm not mad anymore. I can appreciate the irony of her using it to get into the sink. 

There aren't enough hours in the day.

Have you ever thought to yourself "I wish there were more hours in the day?" Time goes so fast I feel like I never get anything done!

I own a business in town and often bring Bad Baby with me. Ok, I always bring her. One day I thought "I don't HAVE to go back in today. I think I will work from home after we pick #4 up from preschool." I swear, sometimes I think like I have no experience. I brewed a cup of coffee while A played with her dolls. I sat down on the couch looked at my lap top and began to write emails back to clients. Then, I heard it. Splashing, crashing, swishing.

"NO MA'AM! BAD BABY!" All she had to do was ask, I would have given her some Cheerios! How did she even get up there?

*Side note: See the paint on the chair, under the cheerios. Trim paint everywhere. STILL.*

I put Bad Baby on the ground and gave her a handful of cheerios and her favorite doll. "Please just sit still"

I let the dogs in the house, and scooped the ones on the table back into the box. While I am doing that I hear #4 yelling "Mama mama mama!!!!"

"Mama, Bad baby is making bad choices today."

WHAT THE?!?! How did she get into the flour THAT FAST??? I JUST took her off the table!!! 

 *I RUN through the house searching. I follow the trail of flour around the downstairs and POOF, back to where the mess began! 

This can't be real life!! "Bad Baby you and #4 go play in the living room while I clean this mess up!!!"I handed her a sippy cup of MamaMilk and bowl of her beloved Cheerios and point at the living room. 

 Sweeping, swiffering (whoever invented the Swiffer... you're a genius. Thank you!) I re-heat my coffee and head back to my computer. "#4? Bad Baby? Where did you run off too?" The living room is SO close to the kitchen, where did she get too!?

*BANG CRASH BOOM* 

That's it. Where's Ashton??? AM I on TV? I should fix my hair!! 

"You know what Bad baby, I think this is the perfect place to cuddle up and take a nap!!"

My Little Nursling & her Partner in Crime

I've said before that Bad Baby likes to come to work with me, and she does! I co-own a business centered around families, so her being with me is expected. (I promise when I have to work she is quite well cared for by another co-owner away from business)

Today Bad Baby would like to introduce her accomplice, his name is Mister. 

"Excuse me Mister, what do you think you're doing?" 

He likes to help and encourage Bad Baby to explore the word and make messes along the way while climbing to potentially dangerous heights. You can see his head in the toy box throwing toys too! What good are toys if they're not all over the place? We must admit we like to encourage them to play however they'd like independently... well, without us standing over them anyways. I am positive he is the one that taught her how to climb! 

At first I said, "Out of the toy box!" Then, I realized it kept them safe and contained. Never mind Baby, carry on. 

Today Bad Baby broke into our IBCLC's (lactation consultant) office and "borrowed" her teaching friend Tommy. Tommy was on a high shelf. 

How can you spot a breastfed toddler? 

Bad Baby is still nursing with no end in sight, and lately we've been working on manners. It's not nice to climb into my lap and smack them-- saying "please" is polite! While the other owners and I were having our weekly meeting we look over at Bad Baby holding Tommy. My heart. It melted into a puddle on the ground. 

Bad Baby loves to cuddle her doll babies and yell "BOOBIE" as she does! As a mother it is my job to help bad baby on her breastfeeding journey. <3 Where is Mister you ask? Oh he's just in my studio pulling all of my knitted and crocheted props out of their places while my #4 watches.

You look like you need help.

Sometimes adults just can't manage to do things on their own-- they NEED help from their children.

I smiled and told my husband "You know what would be fun?" ...That's how I start off a huge project idea that will likely cause him stress and manual labor. For the last few years our dining room has been a play room, complete with a huge image of Buzz Lightyear and I decided I wanted a real dining room. One where we ate dinner and didn't risk certain death for walking in. So, we set off to clean and paint our dining room.

I was sitting on the floor painting baseboards enjoying listening to the babysitter sing (Super readers, we're super readers...) when #3 started whining, "mama, A stinks!!" Ok ok, I suppose I could take a break. I changed Baby and went to wash my hands and put the diaper in the laundry. WHY WOULD I DO THAT???

"OH! NO BAD BABY NO!!!!"

Sweet Bad Baby didn't mean any harm! She only wanted to help Mama out! In case anyone out there in internet land was wondering you can't just "wipe off" trim paint from the walls. You do the best you can, and re-paint the original color. Also, after going though half a pack of baby wipes I realized it was actually easier to let the paint dry, and chip it off the hard wood floors. 

A quick PSA: Trim paint does not come out of clothing, and takes a couple of washings before it comes out of fine baby hair and mama hair. Oh, and the dog still has a white splotch. Whoops. 

P.s. I'd like someone to invent a paint that dries the moment it touches the wall, and also wipes clean when jam is all over it. I am convinced children always have jam hands, even if they've just washed them or their is no jam in the house. 

A little background

This is Sweet Baby A. She is my #5, and by far the most mischievous. She has four older siblings who love and adore her and also get a giggle out of her antics.

A while back she got into some trouble with some sun screen and her older brother ( #4 ) said, "No no! Bad Baby!!' and it stuck. Where he came up with that, we're not sure! When Sweet Baby A gets into things our family laughs and says "Bad Baby!" She smiles her precious smile and our hearts melt! We don't call her "bad" because we think she's actually bad-- it's just for fun, and she loves to smile as she explores the world on her own terms. She has a few partners in crime and together they make little messes even bigger! I hope you enjoy following us as she grows and watch as she day by day wreaks havoc on our home.

This is the first recorded activity of her antics. June 2015-- 11 months old.

I tried to go to the bathroom! I just needed 47 seconds away from her!! That's it! The sunscreen was "safety" kept zipped in her diaper bag so I thought it was safe. ...Mother of Five... I should know better after twelve years of parenting. After 47 seconds I returned to find her finger printing in the sun screen! Anyone have advice on how to get it out of cloth diapers?? ...Oh well, at least the sun won't burn her. In the house. At 7pm. 

As I spent the next twenty minutes going through every wipe in the house she laughed. I hope I remember that sound forever. When it was all said and done, I snuggled her and sent her on her way. About twelve minutes later I found her in the kitchen trash pulling out the sunscreen soaked baby wipes. WHY must you play in the trash? There began my search for the perfect locking trash can!

Look for more adventures tomorrow!