Woolsey Family Chronicles

Documenting the journey of raising triplets and their wild big sister

Road Trip April 23, 2011

Filed under: Uncategorized — The Hip Mothership @ 1:09 am

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Months ago Chris and I planned a nice trip to San Luis Obispo. We had been invited to go to Hawaii with the Hosseinis and my parents but we were not very inspired to take three 3 year olds to Hawaii for a week. We figured that San Luis Obispo would be cheaper and more manageable for a family like ours during a time like this.

About a week ago we changed our minds. We were tired and Chris was emotionally exhausted from traveling back and forth to Los Angeles and Hermie’s passing away. I didn’t feel like packing, I didn’t feel like driving, I didn’t feel like eating out with the kids and I was nervous about our sleeping situation now that the kids were out of cribs. Chris told me that he wasn’t looking forward to our trip to San Luis Obispo. I didn’t probe into why Chris didn’t want to go, but I was guessing it was one of the many reasons I didn’t want to go. We had visions of staying home the whole week and taking day trips to Tahoe and Berkeley and getting our beloved Kathy back for Thursday and Friday allowing Chris and I to go out on the town and see some movies and go to dinners.

This plan was dead in the water. I checked the weather in Cameron Park and it was very disappointing. It was going to rain three days out of the week and the other days were cloudy and cold. Then I asked Kathy about helping again and she had made plans, as she should have. On Sunday we decided to leave Monday for San Luis Obispo, stay a couple of nights and then head to Westlake to spend some time in warmer climates with the domestics.

I quickly adjusted my attitude, my energy and my outlook on taking four little kids on vacation. I “bucked up” as my dad would say, and got to packing. Chris took Ava and drove to REI in Sacramento and bought the biggest damn rocket box on the market – a solid 22 incher – with room for half of our house. It was a beautiful sight to behold when Chris drove up the driveway with that hunk of silver plastic attached to the roof of the minivan. Chris was beaming with pride over his majestic domestic treat perfect for a family of six on the road.

So Monday we loaded the crew up with luggage on top and snacks in the trunk and headed south. Now that the kids are potty trained it actually makes road trips more difficult. Instead of peeing in their diapers until their diapers are ready to explode as we speed down Highway 5, we have “I have to go pee” announcements every hour. So we pull over to the side of the road and whip out the old travel bjorn potty, the smallest most handy potty ever made, and the kids take turns peeing in it in the middle of nowhere off a dirt road. Preston has really taken to pulling down his pants and going pee in various public places, so that is what he opted for. More on Preston’s peescapades later.

So there we were in San Luis Obispo and the memories came flooding back. I can’t even believe it was almost 20 years ago that we were both living there going to school, meeting new people, asserting independence and for me, gaining the stereotypical freshman 15. One of the first places we passed was Stenner Glen, the off-campus dorms where I met Chris when I was 18. Even though the place is relatively dumpy, and served fattening food which caused me to gain and immediate 15 pounds in one month, I looked at it with such fondness as we drove by.

“Look Ava, this is where mommy and daddy met each other!” exclaimed Chris with enthusiasm. Ava greeted that bit of information less than enthusiastically with a no comment.

Chris and I soaked in every bit of San Luis Obispo with our new large family. We drove straight to Montana De Oro, which has to be one of the most beautiful places I’ve seen in California besides the drive on Torrey Pines through La Jolla or Highway 1 through Big Sur. The windy road takes you through a quaint town or two before the magnificent Pacific is presented along with its unspoiled coastline. Unfortunately, the clouds were out and the weather was chilly, but the Woolsey 6 got out of the minivan with our sweaters and crocks and made our way onto the coarse sand. Chris was dubious as to why I wanted to go to this particular beach. I wanted to go because I have the fondest memory of going to that beach on a warm sunny day with my best of friends Lesley and Willie and Nicola. I even have a picture of all of our youthful, carefree faces smiling wide and carefree lying on the beach of Montana De Oro. Maybe I really needed to recapture a little bit of my youth; a time when I only worried about stuff like whether I studied enough for a college exam or what fun event was going to take place that weekend. That time in my life was so fleeting but it holds such a solid happy place in my memories.

The kids were at first annoyed by the sand, which was more like coarsely chopped up sea shells, a little hard on the feet. Then we got down to the water and there were so many special things waiting for us. There were beautiful shells, crabs, and ornate caves carved from thousands of years of ocean crashing against them. I enjoyed every second with the kids – I encouraged them to feel the soft rolling rock inside the cave, pick up the smooth rocks and shells and stick their feet in the freezing cold water. A half an hour later Preston and Violet were stripped down to their underwear and were running in and out of the water with Ava, laughing hysterically. Elsa, our resident stick in the mud stayed close by our side, not wanting to do anything too crazy. And yes, Preston did seize this opportunity to pull down his underwear and do a pee right on the beach. The beach was pretty crowded I thought for a bad weather Monday, which means that plenty of people were chuckling in the background as Preston had his “when you have to go, you have to go” moment.

Preston didn’t want to leave the beach, even though he was shivering very badly. We had to lure him out with promises of more “ocean” the next day.

That night we went to Woodstock’s Pizza where Chris and I used to work. I got to have my favorite salad in the whole world which I have them make with artichokes and then they lather it in the best homemade ranch dressing that they mix in a big paint tub-style container (or at least they did when I was working there). Let it be noted that the Woolseys can demolish an entire large pizza with no leftovers to be had. The triplets don’t have a lot of restaurant experience, but I thought they did pretty well.

Then we came to fear #3 of why I didn’t want to go to San Luis Obispo: sleep time. What we love about the Quality Suites is that every room is a suite; one room with the beds and bathroom, and a living room with a sectional pull-out couch. So we pulled the bed out of the couch for the little girls and then had Preston sleep on the other section of the sectional that didn’t transform into a bed. The kids were thrilled. They were also exhausted. Ava slept in our room with us. We checked on the triplets about 10 minutes after we put them to bed and the girls were sound asleep with Preston in the middle of them cuddling. Preston loves his sisters.

The next day we hit Avila Beach the whole day. The weather said it was going to be chilly but it was absolutely beautiful and sunny and warm. We set up camp and Elsa immediately found herself a friend, a little girl named Elizabeth who was at the beach with her grandma that day. Chris had helped grandma set up her tent and after that Elsa plopped her cute little self down in that tent and proceeded to play with Elizabeth and her shells for the next hour. The red heads shoveled big holes, played chase with the waves, and ran up and down the beach until they were absolutely covered in sand. Violet really created a comfortable relationship with the sand as she would slide head first into the sandy hole they had dug and sit there for minutes without moving, head firmly planted in the sand, resembling a drunk person who had fallen in a hole and couldn’t get out. Violet makes us laugh so hard.

We headed back for a swim in the hotel pool and spa and then the kids – namely Elsa and Preston – had a mini-meltdown in the hotel room on account of no naps and an over-abundance of activity. Ava didn’t want to go out to dinner because she was tired and had a pound of sand lodged in her crotch area. Chris and I rallied and got everybody out and drove a whole block down to Splash Café. Again, the kids did really well in the restaurant. I got all the stares and the “are they all yours?” comments which I rolled with because I am proud of them even if they do occasionally scream at each other in the restaurant or make an activity out of pouring salt and pepper on to napkins.

Next stop on Wednesday was Santa Barbara, the #1 place I would like to live if I had lots of money and could live in Montecito (and maybe be Oprah’s favorite neighbor) for its unbelievable beauty and small town charm. Again, we drove straight to the beach. The kids and I waited by a fountain while Chris rented one of these six-seat bikes. Preston pulled his pants down in front of the homeless contingent hanging out on the benches and did one of his famous inappropriate public pees when mom wasn’t looking for two seconds. We rode our bike along the beach and we did get a “that’s a truck full!” from a passerby, which Chris and I decided was a refreshing spin off of “you have your hands full.”

We then had a short 45 minute drive to the domestics in Westlake where we settled in for a short time, and got to visit with Marshie who has to be the saddest person I have ever seen after Hermie’s passing. We all headed to Uncle Greg and Aunt Peggy’s for a pool party. I like when my kids play with their cousins; they love their cousins and they know that they are family and family is sacred and special. Greg reminded us that last time we were at his house Preston, who was naked in-between his bathing suit and clothes, stood by the pool and did a big arching pee right into the water. It seems to be a pattern, and it could prove embarrassing if not stopped soon.

This leads me to the drive home. It seems that our drives are often riddled with adventure – and not the kind of adventure that is fun. About a quarter of the way in to the drive we stopped for a potty break. While in the bathroom Ava complained of a tummy ache. Let me just say that Ava often has tummy aches due to gas or constipation so I asked her if she has to go poop. She said that she didn’t have to. We loaded everyone back in the car and continued on our merry way. Ava fell asleep listening to her music and slept hard for about an hour. She woke up and immediately started crying and complaining of a stomach ache. Chris said, “have you ever seen a child cry so much?” and I turned around and said, “Ava buck up! Do you know what Buck —“ right when I was going to explain the definition of the annoying saying I was brought up on by my dad, Ava projectile vomited all over the car and herself. My mouth gaped open and I stared in disbelief. Chris and I held back a few chuckled at the fact that I was just in the beginning process of lecturing Ava on the term “buck up” when she vomited everywhere. The stench was incredible. It wasn’t over. Ava said she had more throw up to come. I had to think quick. I noticed a plastic bag at my feet that the one Taco Bell burrito and empty wrappers remained. I grabbed it and shoved it in front of Ava’s face and she proceeded to perform three consecutive giant-sized barfs into the bag. I was quite proud of myself for providing the bag in time for the next set of barfs because I don’t know if my car would’ve ever recovered had I not gotten there in time. I now had a Taco Bell bag filled with puke in my hand. I asked Chris if he wanted his last burrito and he declined. Now I got to hold this bag o’ barf for the next 35 miles since we just passed a sign that said “Next Gas 35 miles.” It was a cruel revelation that we would have to wait so long to relieve ourselves of the barf – Ava was covered in it – I was holding it – and the stench was unbearable.

Chris and I discussed our strategy, as we usually do in such situations (and when you have four young kids there is always a situation) and decided we would perform a three-step process to complete the mission:

1. remove Ava and her clothes and clean her off

2. remove the barf from the car and various things that got hit

3. Enter the Mart and get some bottled water and plastic bags

The Leapster and Ava’s doll Eva, the white trash cousin to the American Girl Doll that we bought her at Target for Christmas, took it to the face. I was rubbing barf out of Eva’s hair and unsuccessfully trying to dig it out of the creases in her eyeballs. You really have reached your mom status when you find yourself bent over in the disgusting parking lot of a gas station in the middle of nowhere cleaning the barf from the tiny eye crevasses of your daughter’s beloved doll. Yes everyone, it is a proud day, I have reached elite status of motherhood.

So that was our week in a nutshell. My lesson for this trip is barf happens, it is all about how you handle the clean up.

Ava-ism:

Ava: I really want to go home on Saturday?

Chris: Why?

Ava: Because these people don’t celebrate Easter!! with her hands in the air.

Chris: Why don’t they celebrate Easter?

Ava: Because they are Jewish

Note: we have never discussed this concept with Ava before and are not sure how she learned some of the basic principles of Judaism vs. Christianity. That is Ava for you.

Until next time, the mothership is signing off.

 

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Hermie April 13, 2011

Filed under: Uncategorized — The Hip Mothership @ 6:10 pm

May 20, 1921 - April 11, 2011

Chris’s wonderful grandfather Herman (Hermie) passed away Monday evening.  Hermie was the patriarch of the family on Chris’s mom’s side.  He and Marshie created a family that now consists of four children, 10 grandchildren and 20 great-grandchildren.

Everyone loved Hermie.  He was very loveable.  He loved to ask questions no matter how personal. Nobody loved his family more than Hermie did.

Chris said that Hermie had a favorite story that he liked to reminisce about.  Hermie would always laugh about the time when Chris and I were about 20 and totally broke, and he lent us $40.  Hermie felt badly for us being broke college students.  Most broke people might consider paying off some debt, paying the rent or the bills with the extra cash. Chris and I decided to take our $40 that Hermie so generously gave us and go to Monroe’s.  Monroe’s, when it was still Monroe’s, was a very fancy upscale restaurant in Malibu that a lot of famous people frequented.  Oh yes, we had ourselves a fine lunch while watching the waves crash on the shore of Malibu.  Hermie just loved that story.

Hermie and Marshie made me feel loved the day I met them when I was 19 years old.  Hermie embraced me wholeheartedly and loved me unconditionally, as did Marshie.  Hermie always wanted to know the details of his children and grandchildren’s lives.  He wanted everyone to be healthy and happy and prosperous.  Nothing was more important to Hermie than his family. 

In the end, Hermie was surrounded by his family.  From being put in an orphanage when he was a young boy, Hermie rose out of those unfortunate circumstances and built a life of immense wealth with Marshie in the family empire they created.  He was a wealthy man indeed.  I feel that Hermie had what most people want out of life; a huge close family that all adored him and would do anything for him.  He was very loved and respected.

That is the American dream, in my opinion.

Until next time, the mothership is signing off.

 

Sprain April 12, 2011

Filed under: Uncategorized — The Hip Mothership @ 3:46 am

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We had an injury happen last week, the worst injury sustained by a Woolsey child insofar.  It has been so hectic that I am just now getting to write about it.

Chris left on Wednesday to visit his grandpa Hermie who is very sick and was being sent home with hospice care.  On Wednesday I get a call from the school nurse around 12:30pm telling me that Ava had fallen from the climbing rope in PE and her ankle is really hurt.  Ava tends to be a bit dramatic and exaggerate her injuries so I wasn’t sure how bad this ankle really was.  I got my mom on the phone and she told me that it looked pretty bad.  In the background I can hear Ava crying very hard.  I call the doctor and get her an appointment immediately and I have my mom bring Ava home.  When they arrive at the house Ava is still fairly hysterical and all sweaty and in pain.  Her ankle is wrapped in ice so I cannot see what her ankle looks like.  I carry her to the car and rush her to the doctor.  While we are waiting I unwrap her ankle and behold a disturbing sight.  Her right ankle is swollen so huge that I feel like I could pass out.  I immediately look away.  I then take out my iPhone and take a picture, trying to look minimally at the horrific ankle.  I send it out and the response is grim.  I get an OMG from Chris, a “that doesn’t look good” from Angela, and that is “grotesque” from a mom in Ava’s class.  I thought for sure it was broken.

We headed down to get her x-rays and she was so brave.  She sat on the table and even managed a smile or two.  Afterward she asked the x-ray technician if she could take a look at the x-rays.  The x-ray technician gave me a surprised look and I just told him that Ava loves medical stuff like this.  His reply was, “she will probably be my boss one day.” 

We learned a few hours later that her ankle was not broken but was badly sprained.  Without Chris’s help it was a big job around the house caring for disabled Ava and some triplets that are very naughty lately.  Luckily I had Kathy coming Thursday and Friday.  I spent the next two days taking care of Ava, carrying her around the house and icing her ankle and giving her Motrin and Tylenol.   Ava is not a very easy-going kid so I was very concerned about how this whole thing would turn out but she really rose to the occasion and was great about the whole unfortunate incident.

So, now she will not be able to compete in her only home ACRO competition this Saturday with means her other two partners won’t be able to either.  There is no trio without Ava. 

On Friday I loaded all the kids up in the car and brought them to this prosthetic and orthopedic store in Roseville which turned out to be the only place that carries crutches small enough for our petite Ava Rose.  I had gimpy Ava that I had to carry and the triplets who are in the throws of the terrible 3’s with me to walk across the parking lot and into the building.  The minute I get into the quiet, impeccably clean office my triplets start going berserk.  I have paperwork to fill out and Elsa is yelling at me that she wants my pen and some paper to draw with.  Preston is rifling through my wallet passing out money and then yelling to me that he needs more money.  Violet, who is my temper tantrum queen these days, is on the verge of a meltdown due to the fact that Elsa has been blessed with pen and paper and she has not. 

There is a very tall very sweet young man behind the counter helping me.  He has a big grin on his face.  I have a look of embarrassment on mine.  Then he says to me, “this feels just like home!” He says that he is the oldest of four children – 3 boys and 1 girl – and that his house is constantly noisy and rambunctious and that there is never a dull moment.  At that moment I let me embarrassment go because I was in the presence of an ally; someone who understood and appreciated lots of kids and lots of noise.  In fact, it seemed that not only did he appreciate the noise level and the craziness factor, but he also enjoyed it.  It reminded him of home.  I asked him if he like having all his brothers and sister and he said he loved it.  I could tell he loved his big family and love being a part of the madness. 

On the way out of the office I took the pen and paper away from Elsa and told Violet that she wouldn’t be getting anything because we had to go.  Violet threw herself into a huge tantrum.  As we left with hysterical Violet my parting words to my fellow ally were, “this is just like home right?”  Right, he said, with a big smile.   I navigated tantruming Violet and gimpy Ava through the parking lot.  Ava fell off her crutches and had to put her foot down which created tears.  Meanwhile, Violet was screaming.  If you haven’t yet had the pleasure of hearing Violet scream, I will tell you it is the loudest most ear piercing cry you have ever heard. “Who wants a piece of gum??” I yelled through the crying and screaming.  “I do I do!” replied my little ducklings, and it was back to happy quieter kids again.

Today, Monday, Ava is already walking a little on her foot and is back to school. She was so embarrassed about having to use her crutches and begged me to carry her to her classroom. I refused based on the fact that my back is hurting from carrying this heavy child around last week and because I can’t stay at school with her all day and carry her from place to place, so she will have to get over her embarrassment. 

This last weekend my sister and I took mom to San Francisco for her 60th birthday coming up this Saturday April 16th.  We shopped, we dined at the restaurant Chris loves so much, Pazzia, where mom had the best Gnocci she has eve r eaten, and we drank lots and lots of Champagne and wine.  It was fabulous.  That night we stayed at the Westin St. Francis where we had a very interesting experience.  We got to our room after 11pm and got to sleep.  I feel like I had not been asleep long when I heard people in the room next door.  We were in the historic section of the Westin where apparently the walls are paper-thin.  Also, my bed was next to an adjoining door.  I could literally hear every word they were saying in the next room. The the smell of pot came wafting through our adjoining door.  Then other noises, eh ehm, came through loud and clear from the other room.  This series of events happened ALL night long.  I called security three times to come tell the people next door to shut up and go to sleep but every time they went up their room they said they couldn’t hear anything and that they can’t do anything about it if they can’t hear anything.  So I was awake from 12am to 5am that night.  I was seriously not happy.  My sister and mom were awake off and on through that time also.  I felt bad for my sister because she kept talking about how she couldn’t wait to get a full night sleep since she would be away from Lily that night and here she was getting a worse sleep than she would’ve at home!

The three of us were sleepless in San francisco.  We planned on going to a 90 minute yoga class that morning but we woke up and nobody had the energy to do that anymore.  We left the city and drove to 4th Street Berkeley where I surely would’ve done some major damage to the bank account if I wasn’t so tired; too tired to try any clothes on, too tired to walk around and browse much, too tired to even get out my wallet to pay for anything. I guess that is one good thing that came out of my sleepless night. 

Despite the fact that we were sleepless in San Francisco we all had a wonderful time and were very happy to be able to help mom celebrate her 60th birthday in one of her favorite places to be. 

A few funny quotes from the boy over the weekend:

Preston: Daddy, you’re my best friend

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Daddy: Dude, why aren’t you eating your lunch?

Preston: I am boss

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Preston: Elsa I have a tape measure

Elsa: Oh that’s nice buddy

Elsa to daddy: Preston’s my boy

Until next time, the mothership is signing off.

 

Bird Whisperer April 1, 2011

Filed under: Uncategorized — The Hip Mothership @ 10:04 pm

I am a self-proclaimed bird whisperer.  That’s right, I have saved a few birds in my day.  Perhaps it is my calling. I just finished reading Freedom by Jonathon Franzen in which he spends a huge section in the middle of the book talking about one of the main characters’ passion for saving the endangered cerulean warbler bird.  I was bored with the plight of the bird.  I don’t particularly like birds, but I do not dislike birds either.  I especially do not understand why people keep birds caged in their homes; it seems cruel to the bird and very loud inside a house. 

So, my first bird rescue happened while we were living in Carlsbad.  I was up on our balcony looking down at the cul-de-sac when I saw a big loud crow swoop down and attack a hummingbird.  The hummingbird hit the ground and the crow continued to harass it.  I ran down to the cul-de-sac and grabbed that hummingbird and brought it home.  The hummingbird looked unscathed but was not moving except for the very rapid paced breathing I could see from its chest.  The problem was I didn’t know how to nurse this little hummingbird back to health.  I went to the yellow pages (back when people still used phone books) and somehow found a lady who rescues birds.  I called her and told her that I have a sweet little hummingbird who has been the victim of a vicious attack and she told me to bring it on over to her house.  I drove about a ½ an hour with this little hummingbird in a shoe box and delivered it to this woman who had about 50 other birds in her house that she was caring for.

This looks like my pelican

My second bird rescue still gives me the chills today.  I was by myself walking along the beach in Carlsbad when I noticed a pelican on the beach acting very strange.  I went up to get a closer look and noticed that the pelican was completely entangled in heavy fishing wire with a hook lodged in its wing. Part of the fishing wire was wrapped around the pelican’s beak and so the poor bird couldn’t open its mouth or lift its head.  Pelicans are large.  I wasn’t sure what to do but watching this beautiful sea bird suffer had me in tears.  People would just pass this bird by with no more than a casual glance. I couldn’t imagine leaving this bird here to die so I stood on the beach next to this bird until someone who was willing to help me, someone bigger than myself, would come and help.

So while I am standing there this man passes by with his three Jack Russell Terriors who proceed to terrorize this pelican.  They are trying to nip at it and are circling it yapping like mad.  I was yelling at the man to get his dogs on a leash as he was running in circling like a fool trying to get a handle on his dogs.

It seemed like ages but then I saw him. Robin Hood of the pelicans came running toward me and I knew my pelican friend would be OK.  This man was in his 20’s and was about 6 foot 5 inches.  He was strong and he was willing to help me save this bird.  We strategized for a couple of minutes and then Robin Hood of pelicans grabbed that big pelican around its body and hoisted it up.  Then I stepped in with the wire cutters that he had brought from his car and starting clipping away at the wire.  It took about 5 minutes before all the wire was untangled from the pelican. We let this beautiful creature down and watched as she flew to the water and swam away on the waves. 

This looks like the hummingbird we found this week

My most recent bird rescue happened on Monday.  I was picking Ava up from ACRO gymnastics when I saw a little something on the ground.  I wasn’t sure what it was so I moved it with my foot. It flipped over and I noticed that it was the most beautiful hummingbird with a fluorescent green body and a fluorescent pink head.  He was tiny and I wasn’t sure if it was a baby who had fallen from a tree, or if perhaps he flew into the window.  I picked him up and placed him high so no one would step on him.  I ran inside and got Ava and some paper towel and we ran out and placed this little bird on the paper towels and I put him in the passenger side of my car.  Ava and Preston were very excited.  “Is this going to be out new pet?” Ava asked enthusiastically.  “No way – we are just going to help this hummingbird to fly again.”  “Oh yeah, and then he can fly back to his mommy and daddy.  I am going to name him Sweeny.” 

So I am driving along the freeway and Sweeny is staring right at me.  He looks annoyed and distrustful but comfortable in his paper towels resting gently inside Chris’s strange driving cap that happened to be a perfect bed.  All of a sudden Sweeny took flight.  He flew to the back and hit the window.  I screamed.  I was worried that Sweeny would fly at rapid speed right into Ava or Preston. He hung out at the back window and took flight a few more times trying to escape through the glass.  I pulled over at on off ramp and opened the back. Sweeny still couldn’t figure out how to fly out the back now that it was open so I reached in and grabbed him and through him up in the air and he flew away. 

I have another bird rescue under my belt.  While I did not nurse Sweeny back to health, I feel I saved him by getting him off the sidewalk where he surely would’ve been smooshed. 

The bird whisperer is back.

Ava and I are headed to Livermore tonight for her ACRO gymnastics competition tomorrow.  I am very excited to see her do her ACRO thing since I missed the last one.  I just watched the video that my dad taped and I have to admit I got very vaclempt while watching it.  She does such a good job for just starting in September. 

In other news, my little Elsa and Preston are refusing to do #2 in the potty.  This has become an issue because they hold it and become constipated.  Then they are so uncomfortable that they get teary and clingy and grumpy.  Sometimes it affects our entire day. I put a pull-up on them so they don’t suffer, but even then sometimes they hold it.  I think they have poop confusion; they don’t want to do it in the potty but they know they should’nt do it in their pull-up.  I just don’t get it.  What is with kids being frightened to poop in the potty?  I even show them how Violet does it and they say “yeahhhhh Violet! Good job!” They are very happy for her successes in poop but are unwilling to do this themselves.  Will they be pooping in their pull-up forever I wonder?  I have tried everything.  I have bribed them with toys, popsicles, lollipops, ice cream to name a few things.  Nothing works.  Please, if you have any advice for me, something that may work, post a comment.

Until next time, the mothership is signing off.