Smiley, Spaghetti, # 2 and the Lu (that's a pun - you'll see)

It happens to everyone, and I'm sure I'm treading no new ground by rehashing how I spent my day on Sunday. Still . .

Sometime near midnight I noticed the toilet was clogged. I had contributed to our city's grand fertilizer stock moments before but, judging soley by size and shape, didn't view it as a threat to our plumbing.

Plunging didn't solve the problem. Although the water went down it still flushed weakly and oh so slowly.

So I went online, read up on a few tricks, and tried 'em. Nuttin'. I finally gave up and went to bed, making sure to tell my wife that the commode was out of order. (we have an extra bathroom in the basement)

The next day, after work, my Dad came over with his toilet auger. It was an inopportune time as I was watching all four kids,YaYa had the neighbor's daughter over and I had just served them all spaghetti,  but what can you do?

We stick the auger in. We go through the motions. We hit paydirt. And we begin withdrawing said auger.

I saw air bubbles coming up and a brown cloud forming and thought 'oh God, this is going to be bad', but my Dad, being more in tune with man's natural processes, kept right on going until a fine mist of brown sludge burst from the bowl and the auger was out.

Attached to the end, pierced by the end actually, was an empty bottle of the kid's bubbles.

'Smiley!' I roared. He trotted in before backing up from the odor. "Did you do this?!"

He shook his head no but gave me a Danny look: a quick hunch of the shoulders, eyes a-shimmering, a sneaky grin and a quick but but silent 'hee-hee'.

[two years ago he flushed a triangle from his shape sorter at our rental, causing our landlord to have to replace the entire toilet. A week ago he flushed a toilet paper roll at my Mom's house backing up their bathroom. Maker of Trouble and Mayhem indeed.]

Now the problem was getting the bottle off, because as I said the auger had pierced the thing. I tried, oh how I tried to get it off daintily, with plastic bags between me and the thick brown sludge in and around the bottle, but it could not be done.

And so I grabbed it bare-handed and began to slowly unscrew it down the line.

Meanwhile I hear plates being overturned, slaps and crying from the living room, and cries of blame echoing from more than one child's mouth.

I couldn't get the bottle off that last bit of the auger.

"Cut it," my Dad said. "It's the only way."

And so I took a kitchen knife and in its last moments of its useful life began cutting the bottle off, choking down my dinner.

At this point LuLu comes into view, apparently oblivious to the wretched smell.. "Daddy, I want to go swimming with Stacey," she said.

"No," I said.

"Daddy, yes! I want to go swimming!"

"Damnit Lu, get out of here!"

"No!," she said, stomping her feet. "I want to go swimming now!"

"Lu," I said, still working on the bottle, sludge now all over my arms. "If you haven't noticed I'm elbow deep in poop right now - "

At which point I vomited spaghetti all over the floor. Lu didn't even pause.

"I don't care. I want to go swimming, and I'm going."

"Leave her be," my Dad said, looking at my vomit with scorn. "Give me the knife."

I handed it over and he did the deed. Once I cleaned it all up, dry heaved once or twice, and carried the garbage out,  it was done.

While I was occupied the kids had flat-out destroyed the house and waged war upon one another. All in full view of of YaYa's friend.

Did I mention the house smelled like a waste treatment plant?

&**$#$ Smiley.

Long Ramble

So where was I? A lot happened over the fourth of July - good and awful - but I don't feel up to writing about that yet. I'm gonna try to keep this post coherent, but I warn you: it may ramble in places.

After Middle Child's party, the month was pretty hit and miss. School let out (hard to believe YaYa is finished with TWO years of school already) and we made sure she had a week or two to just mosey around before starting any activities.

We had a freak hailstorm - actually, that might have been in May - and got these neat shots.

Awhile back I'd called to get YaYa into TeeBall, only to be told registration was closed and I'd have to register her in person on the first day. So I show up and naturally, the class is full. Nevermind that the lady on the phone said there were 23 openings left when I was turned down. That was not only frustrating but embarrassing - I had to walk YaYa away and explain why she couldn't play with the kids. And I'd splurged and bought her a brand new pink batting helmet too!

So we played on the swingset for a bit, then stopped at a nursery to buy some flowers which I then planted in the backyard.

Whoo-hoo!

Parke continues to wreak havoc everywhere he goes. Mind you, he is the happiest, most pleasant, easy to take care of baby in HISTORY, but he does LOOOOVE trouble. While (at this early point) he doesn't appear to be the brightest of the offspring, he seems to have an affinity for anything mechanical. He loves to take things apart, put things in their place, and generally fiddle with things.

This has its downsides: we had to replace our toilet because he jammed a shape-sorter so tightly into it that it couldn't be removed without breaking the toilet and flooding our bathroom . .

He doesn't talk much. 'Dada' is about it. He's a massive eater, downing amounts of food that rival his Daddy - and he's less than a 10th my size. Naturally, unlike his sisters he refuses to eat any vegetables. Basically, he walks; he poops; he smiles; and he eats. :)

 I can sum him up in only a few words: cheerful, with a wide smile he gives freely for any reason, and awesome size. In my words, he's 'a monster' lol . . . his shoulder span and frame hint at a giant full-grown man down the road. Heck, he's already wearing a size 5 diaper, a size his sisters NEVER reached, 'tho I concede that has more to do with his boy-parts making the smaller size leak than anything. What more could a guy ask for in a son? After all, as I've always said, "I bred for size".

 I do feel a slight disconnect with him tho'. Why? A bit of initial awkwardness after raising two baby girls, the fact that I've never been able to gel with a kid until they turn one, and the new(er) job all played a role. So did his aversion to cuddling or being held. I've said that I think all I am is the guy who puts him to bed, because it seems like the only time I hold him is to walk him to the crib. :(  

But, I'm working on changing that, and have made a concerted effort to reconnect with the kids, especially Parker.

Middle Child is just a doll. She continues to be generous and very vocal (her favorite thing lately is to call Mrs. 'Mamacita', and me 'Daddycita'). She is also very mischievous and enjoys taunting her sister, and while still doting on Parker has become annoyed with some of his actions. "Naughty Baby!" she yells, pointing her finger dramatically while scowling and squinting.

YaYa alternates from darling, intelligent angel to spoiled selfish 4 year old in the blink of an eye. Always athletic, she adores her ability on the monkey bars and is always in a state of motion.

Oh, I did eventually get her into a TeeBall program, only instead of Saturday mornings it's Tuesday and Thursday evenings - right at her bedtime. The results were predictable, with her wigging out and asking to go home midway through.

Oh yeah - I also got drafted into being a coach. Normally I'd love it, but it's hard to instruct the kids when your own four year old is lying on the ground yelling "Daddy take me home!"

Other than that . . .hmm...we went to see Cars for their cousin Sam's birthday. I thought the movie was boring, and Middle Child was asking 'is it ova?' ten minutes in. Afterwards we attended a birthday partty for the boy next door, and the girls took nice looking swipes at the pinata. Heck, one guy asked if YaYa was in baseball, she swung so nice.

Cripers, I almost forgot. My mother-in-law retired from the IRS midway through the month and we had a big gala. The mild mannered Grandma even rode a Harley around the parking lot for the occasion!

I'd post pics of it, but no one has sent me any and my own camera was low on power ...

The arrival of my kids out of state cousins for the events let to a week of fun with the extended family, but also caused YaYa to miss the first week of UWM's College for Kids Young Astronaut class.

She did attend the second week on campus, and she really did enjoy it. I attended the creative writing class when I was a kid, but YaYa seems very science oriented. She made crystals, launched a bottle rocket, and learned a lot.

Example: "Daddy, what does I-S-S spell?" she asked me. "Nothing" I said,  "No, it spells International Space Station," she stated proudly.

The first day of her class I had off, and the family and I wasted the two hours perusing my old campus. A lot has changed, and a lot remains the same. We played at the fountain - the same fountain I remember my Dad taking me to when I was in College for Kids - and walked through the 11 acre Downers Wood Preserve.

Neat fact: in the woods is a house made of sticks. "Eeyore's house!," we all declared.

My niece Caitlin also spent a few weeks with us over the course of the month and was a big help with the kids.

TTFN

Dan