“Do Not Disterb!” Instead give Elmo a hair cut.

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I saw this sign lying on the floor in my daughter’s room. Apparently, she could not find tape. It’s no wonder. My house remains an utter disaster. It’s not dirty…it’s just boxes of stuff. Stuff to keep and find a place for. Stuff to give to anyone that would like it (not junk—no one needs more junk-stuff like nice blankets or jeans that I haven’t slipped into for, um, 8 years or so). And designated stuff to pass on to other ladies having girl or boy babies.

I gotta get rid of this stuff. It resides in my hallway that is approximately 2 and 1/2 to 3 feet wide.

These boxes rule our roost right now. How I wish they could sprout legs—because I definitely feel like showing them Adelyne’s sign, “Do not disterb”! By the way, isn’t that the cutest thing. E is the appropriate sound for the word. Tricky English. Or do you hear the “ur” sound? Tricky ears!

In the meantime, besides the boxes, Maxwell has taken to smearing his poop all over his walls, mattress, bed, and stuffed animals in bed with him.

Elmo, his favorite, is electronic and really fun and educational. Well, of course he is, he is Elmo after all. And since he is all fancy, I had to give Elmo a bath with a washcloth. But there was some stubborn poop in there, so Elmo also ended up with a hair cut.

Speaking of Maxwell, we also got this awesome and bright shagadelic turquoise carpet. Yep. Total 70s love, Baby. And Maxwell. Ah, Maxwell, my 2-year-old love…Maxwell has fallen in love with our game closet. And Hi Ho Cheery-O! Let me just say, flower power to our carpet—but headache to the momma that chose it. What was I thinking? I have combed the carpet all day and still haven’t found all of the cherries. Thankfully at random times I step on something and try to keep my foot perfectly still, bending down, and start combing through 1 inch of shag to try and find that darn cherry game piece! See, this is why I have always tried to avoid trendy. I get what I deserve, I suppose. The good news is that Josephine can’t find them either. So no choking hazard in our home (for the moment).

Speaking of pooping.

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Oh, you weren’t?  Well, I have two in diapers 😉

Anyhow, Josephine has started eating solid foods more and more.  This is a big deal in our home.  She eats her cream of wheat in the mornings and then has some sort of typical Polish obiad in the afternoon—she is going to turn into a posh lil’ ol’ baby.  Her choices for lunch yesterday and today:  Salmon yesterday; Veal today.  Oooh, lala, JoJo.  The rest of us were eating sandwiches.

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But can I honestly say—baby salmon?!  Gag!  Stinky, stinky, stinky!  I hope she grows up smart because we are all gagging over here while she eats (smile and wink). #omegafoods

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Now, back to speaking about Josephine (don’t worry, I won’t get into the fact that she’s turning into a solid pooping machine with all of this new food), instead I will tell you that people at the lake love her.  She is this big, smiling thing that just radiates joy.  And she is always waving her arms up and down and cooing at everyone.  So, I guess this means that complete strangers have the right to come and touch her?  I don’t know—I don’t seem to touch random people’s kids.  I mean, I may stop and talk to your kid with smiles, etc., but I don’t touch their faces and hands, and stuff.  Josephine never minds.  It’s mostly mommy and daddy that have the problem with it.  #welcometoadifferentculture

Speaking of random people touching your kid, there have been two incidences, count them 1-2, at the lake when random strangers have literally PICKED Maxwell up.  Let me explain.  You see, one of us will be swimming with Adelyne in the lake while the other is manning the two babies.  Which means that Max is usually getting water by the bucket for sand play and JoJo is either splashing in the water or also playing in the sand.  And when I say Josephine is playing in the sand, that means Josephine is eating the sand.  In any case, there is always one parent watching Max and Josephine.  But I guess that doesn’t count.  Because on two separate occasions, someone has literally gone out into the lake and picked Maxwell up.

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“Ummm…excuse me?  Parent of Maxwell here.  You know, the kid you are randomly picking up because you fear for his safety.  Yep, pretty sure we are watching him closely.  You know, it’s this bad habit we have called parenting.  But it doesn’t mean that we have to touch him on every occasion or hold his hand while he scoops water into his bucket.” #mykidnotyours

Speaking of Adelyne (kind-of, more in reference to her at the lake), Richard and I worried so much before we left America for her return to Poland.  Adelyne had the most amazing year and a half in the States.  We were literally sick to our stomachs to take her away from her family and school and friends and return her to Poland.  Sometimes I think we as parents worry more about our kids…But she did have one day about a week into moving back to Poland where she sat on my lap and said, “I don’t know why I am crying.  I am just so sad.”

And my heart broke for her.  #iunderstandadelynemetoo

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But, alas, one month in, she is very happy to be back in Poland.  My heart…and her daddy’s heart…are more settled for her.  She has her best friend, Wiki, back, and she has started both French and Polish lessons.  French lessons are with her brother.  She is so happy and even lets him call it “Max’s school”.  #threelanguages #mommyneedstostilllearnpolish

Oh, my dear friends, there is still so much more to say…But for now I will sign off and save the rest for another time.

So much fun moving back to a different culture!

Pa for now…I’ve got pickles to go and make (I’ll let you know how they turn out).

xoxo

b

Living One Minute at a Time…

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Okay.  I lied.  Sometimes it’s Living One Second at a Time.

You see…we walked to the doctor’s office today.  It’s across the street, about 1/2 a mile away.  It was our little chub-a-love, Josephine’s, 1-month appointment. 

Trumpet sounds for making a month.  Woot-woot.

And on the way back, we said, “Why don’t we stop at the park for 30 minutes.  Maxwell (our 1-year-old) would love that.”

And we said, “And, he’s already pooped two times today, so, despite the fact that we FORGOT his diaper bag, we should be okay.”

We arrived at the park.

Grunt, groan, grunt.  Red face.  And voile!

He was NOT okay.

We were NOT okay.

The smell was NOT okay.

But we stayed at the park for 30 minutes anyway.

Then we make it home.

Perfect.  Josephine will sleep.  Max will eat and sleep.  Adelyne (our 8-year-old) still has a few hours left of school.

Change one diaper.  Leave one infant sleeping in her car seat, and make one hot dog for the freshly changed 1-year-old.

Gobble-gobble.

Goodbye to the husband who is off to work.

Good sleeps to the son who is off to nap.

Good job to the 1-month-old still snoring in her car seat.

Good seats to the Momma who is now typing this blog.  2 free hours just for M.E.  Me!

And then it happens…

The doorbell rings.

It’s the scorpion-spraying bug guy.

REALLY???? 

And then the baby starts fussing.

The toddler starts howling.

The 8-year-old arrives home.

Sigh…

THREE poopy diapers, a double-sided nursing, and an afternoon snack later—I am all down with that.

Now I have 1 sleeping infant.

One 8-year-old playing on her Nook.

One 1-year-old holding his ba-ba (blankie), Elmo (stuffed doll), and watching Elmo’s world on his elephant seat.

How long with this last?

Well, let’s just say that I’ll take One Minute at a Time 😉

How about you? 

Happy week to all.  Like I heard on the radio the other day—Only the first 5 days after the weekend are the hard ones!

Ciao for now.

xo b

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