More Pee, Please...

SPECIAL NEWS BULLETIN!
Dateline: March 30, 2004. Richardson, Texas. Ethan Tinsley urinated in the big boy potty prior to his bath tonight! Mommy and Daddy were much pleased. Fast forward to the morning of March 31, and Ethan again, went Number 1 in the big boy potty! TWO TIMES. Incredible. He even did it standing up (which Dr. Morchower advised against) and it appears that his aim is better than mine (cue laugh track.)

We've thought he has been ready for some entry level potty training for some time. Cart ponied up and got him the big boy potty a week or so ago. We've been using it mainly as a stool thus far. Monday Monday bath duty, I put E in the tub and he promptly urinated in the water. This was no accident people. So, last night, I thought, hmmm, perhaps I should see if he wants to pee in the potty before getting into the tub....and of course, as you've read, he chose peeing in the big potty over the bathtub which is a good thing (otherwise I should just bathe him in the toilet, and save on my water bill.) The funny thing, after he peed (both times) he wanted to be able to do it more - and he kept hopping around - straining to urinate - saying, "More pee, please."

Other Team Tinsley news...Posted Team Tinsley March 2004 Pictures on Shutterfly last week. Perchance a BLOG visitor missed that email, go to the link and you can check them out, real hard.

Until I BLOG again.

The Great Big Book Of Everything

Becoming a parent is world shattering - heard to explain all the things that change, good, bad, and in between. Most of the time you are so busy with the day to dayness of it all that you don't even consider the changes. There are times though, when something will happen, a thought, an action, an event that hits the pause button, and you stop and think - wow - how did I get here?

I had one of those moments today at 6:30am. I was drinking coffee and watching Stanley. Cue the laugh track - BY MYSELF. Yes, Boy #1 was still night night, Boy #2 too, as was my Lovely Bride...and I was up, and watching Playhouse Disney by myself, and by choice. Not that it is such a bad thing, as I learned how to tell the difference between an alligator and a crocodile on Stanley.

You Might Be A Second Child If...

This past Monday Monday in the AM at Casa Tinsley (that be yesterday)...things were not going smoothly. We had arrived home later than expected from our Houston Town Trip, so we were all a bit tired, and having a hard time getting into the week. A list of things that happened before 7:30am.

+ Dog Dog had a massive puke (I'm talking an entire roll of Brawny, the quicker picker upper.) + Ethan shit on the sofa (thankfully not enough to warrant another poop themed blog.) + Wyatt urinated so much that his diaper exploded and he peed all over himself and his crib.

I was trying to get ready for work, Ethan wanted to 'color', Wyatt was sleeping (in the urine,) and Carter was trying to keep it all together. Directing the traffic of our life. As we passed each other in the hall, or maybe it was in Wyatt's room when I was saying bye to him before going to work...Carter looked at me, and asked: "Do you think I should wake him (him being Wyatt) to change his diaper, clothes, and sheets?"

Remember that goofy comedian Jeff Foxworthy? Famous for the: You Might Be A Redneck if...??? When Carter asked me if we should wake up Wyatt I thought of Jeff Foxworthy. Strange thought. No. Synchronous actually. Jung would be so proud, because that very weekend we had discussed the 2nd child deal in Houston Town. How they get all the hand me downs, you aren't as uptight and or nervous with them...not as much graft (read: gifts) to them as the first born, etc. On one hand it is cool, because you (or at least we) are so much more cool with them. You can enjoy it in a more laid back, relaxed way. But on the flip side...we'll let me tie this together...back to my Jeff Foxworthy point...

You might be a second child if your parents don't immediately wake you up to get you out of a pool of your own urine. (Insert laugh track.)

Until I BLOG again...

Just help me get to houston town - There are people there who care a little about me - And they won’t let the poor boy down...

We did the first Team Tinsley road trip since Wyatt joined the team. Went to see Granny and Pops in Houston Town. The ride down was pretty uneventful and we had a nice visit. The Boys both handled routine interuptus well. Houston weather must have got the memo that Saturday was the First day of Spring, because the weather was stunning. We seized the day and headed to Old MacDonald's Farm. The Farm is this combination petting zoo, playland, pool, kind of joint on 1960 (the road, not the year.) Boy #1 dug it the most. A trifecta of fun for him. He got to see all kinds of petting zoo animals, ride a train, and play on a giant heap of sand with trucks. Boy #2 did the normal, sleep through the entire outing thing. We all had a grand time. The 'oh shit' moment came when Boy #1 bumrushed some ducks and he fell into a overflow area of the pond. We're talking some swampy looking water (probably 12 to 15 inches deep) and a full face plant into said swamp. It was actually kind of funny - in the laughing with you, not at you vein. Boy #1 is pretty tough and bounced back from the mishap (which was a good thing since it happened within the first 10 minutes of us being there and he was drenched) The rest of the weekend was spent hanging out with Granny and Pops with an occassional ride in their truck (what Boy #1 calls their Golf Cart - Granny and Pops live on a Golf Course) to feed the ducks. Fast forward to Sunday and it was time to head North. The ride home was a beating. We left Houston at 12:30 and rolled into Casa Tinsley at a little past 7pm. Why? Because 45 goes to one lane of traffic 10 miles South of Corsicana and traffic was literally backed up for 5 miles...not just backed up...we're talking grid lock. We sat on 45 not moving for one to three minutes, only to roll a few feet and stop again. We sat there for 2 hours. It was horrible. The only positive was = get this = I didn't lose my shit! Go Me. I kept it together. A personal victory for sure. It still sucked though - and we felt bad for Wyatt who was NOT happy strapped into a carseat and hungry. Ethan has his moments ( I should have recorded their backseat Everly Brother-esque crying harmony wail thing) but was surprising good though the ordeal. That was the only blemish on what was a very nice weekend in Houston...and our FIRST long haul trip with all four us. Go Team Tinsley!

Until I blog again...

My Turn...

My Lovely Bride had Bunco last night. I had Boy x2 / Daddy x1 = always makes for an interesting evening for yours truly. Last night was a bit tense at times. Boy #2 was being...the "C" word. Boy #1 wanted my undivided attention. I won't bore with those trials. The funny thing was Boy #1 asking about his Mom; Where's Mommy? Generally when his Mom does Bunco (code name: Drunco) and or Book Club (code name: Booze Club) Ethan doesn't jones for his Mommy when she is trying to get out the door. When she splits she's lucky to get a wave. After 30 minutes or so it dawns on him that Mom isn't around...and then he starts asking about her, missing her. "Where's Mommy?" I always tell him..."Mommy went to Bunco...remember?" So - we did this little Play last night:

Scene: Team Tinsley den/family room. Dad is sitting on the Sofa trying to settle the youngest son down, while Boy #1 plays with his trucks on the coffee table in front of Dad and little Brother.

Boy 1: Where's Mommy.
Dad: Mommy went to Bunco.
Boy 1: Bunco?
Dad: Bunco.
Boy 2: CRY CRY CRY CRY CRY CRY CRY...
Boy 1: Mommy...Where's Mommy?
Dad: Bunco.
Boy 2: CRY CRY CRY CRY CRY CRY CRY...
Boy 1: Where's Mommy?
Dad: Bunco.
Boy 2: CRY CRY CRY CRY CRY CRY CRY CRY CRY...
Boy 1: Me go Bunco.
Dad: Bunco is for girls...Mommy is with her girlfriends.
Boy 1. Me go Bunco.
Boy 2: CRY CRY CRY CRY CRY CRY CRY CRY...
Boy 1: Bunco. My turn.
Boy 2: CRY CRY CRY CRY CRY CRY CRY CRY...
Boy 1: My turn. My turn Please. Please. My turn.
Boy 2: CRY CRY CRY CRY CRY CRY CRY CRY...
Boy 1: Bunco. My turn. My turn Please. Please. My turn.

At this point I go to the liquor cabinent and drink half a bottle of gin...

Kidding. Kidding. Actually, another sign that I am in fact old - yesterday, St. Pat's day - I didn't drink a drop of my beloved Beer. I was stone cold sober for the above.

Until I blog again....