Monday, August 27, 2007


Seriously. Calgon, take me away.

Actually, I’m quite certain that I’ll never get to have a relaxing bath again. Ever. For the rest of my life. I spent a short five minutes in a cold shower. Well, cold in the sense that room air was freely flowing into my shower. My daughter no longer sits quietly in a bouncy, or in a swing, bumbo or exersaucer while I take a shower. Instead, she walks confidently, as if with a purpose, over to the side of the shower and she wisks open the curtain. She stares in amazement at the stream of water magically flowing out of the wall. WOW! How cool that must seem to an eleven month old. And as she stands there, the water is splashing off of me and onto her head. She leans in closer to get a better look at what I am doing with a white bar of dial. Indeed it is captivating. The front of her shirt is getting wetter and wetter by the second. Though cute and curious, it only means I am going to have to change her entire outfit once again. She pulls the curtain open, I say Lacka close that. (We call her Lacka because my son so affectionately attempted to say her name on the day of her birth and came up with Lacka instead of Alexa.) Cute. It stuck. Anyway, she looked at me as if, “You can’t be serious. I’m trying to watch here.” The water is pouring onto the floor. I pull the curtain closed once again. Eddie walks in and sees the cat on the bathroom counter top. Sadly, this has become his new home to eat in privacy. Oh and for the betterment of Alexa’s diet as well. Since the cat food was in the kitchen, Eddie kept taking little pieces of it and putting it on Alexa’s high chair. In essence, my son was feeding my daughter cat food. And so many times I had to investigate what was in her mouth. I would be cleaning the kitchen and see her still chewing, when I knew well and good that she was finished. I had to poke around her mouth with my finger. Oh and what did I find??? A piece of cat food. Oh man. Poor baby. Eddie thought that was pretty cool too. He’d give her something, and she’d eat it. How incredibly amusing. Poor baby. Poor cat. *sigh*

So now his food is on the counter, because still on the floor it looks very appetizing to my baby girl. (I’m wondering if she developed a taste for Friskies???) So here is Corona minding his own business, on the bathroom counter, eating his food. I’m taking a shower and Alexa is admiring mommy freezing and rinsing as fast as humanly possible. I see Eddie walk into the bathroom just as I say, “Lacka, close the curtain.” His little hand reaches for the cat’s tail. “Eddie, STOP THAT! You’re going to hurt the kitty! Eddie, Eddie, Don’t pull his tail.” It seems to fall on deaf ears. It’s too irresistable. He pulls at the tail, the cat wobbles and nearly falls off the counter. He loses balance but he doesn’t go over. OMG. I’m nearly at my wit’s end.

What does that mean anyway?? to have wit? I am nearly without my wit.

Let’s see, according to Mirriam-Webster’s online help, it says something about: reasoning power, mental soundness, mental capability and resourcefulness…also at a loss for solving a problem. Oh definitely. That’s me. To a capital T! All the wit is gone. Out the window, bye, bye. Elvis has left the building.

Oh and it’s nap time.
Let me share a picture of the “Wit Stealers”.

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