I LOVE: GOOF OFF

It does not matter that I THINK there are no non-washable crayons in the house, there always seems to be some somewhere. (sigh) Seriously, if you buy my kids non-washable crayons - you're on my "I don't like you" list.  

Notice Daughter pointing to Son's latest masterpiece

It drives me crazy whenever the topic of crayons on walls come up and people start screaming "MAGIC ERASER."  Guess what ... in my house, on my walls, Magic Eraser is almost as effective as water and a rag.  Apparently, I have super non-responsive wall or some other such garbage.  But I have never been able to get Magic Eraser to get ANYTHING off my walls.  (except washable crayon -- but well, water and a rag gets off washable crayon and it's hella cheaper)

Anyway, I was just resolved to the fact that we were going to have to repaint the walls and cut off Son's hands so he couldn't color on the walls anymore (completely joking about chopping my son's hands off. maybe.)

Then I remembered this great stuff that I bought to clean up a fantastic cabinet that my Pawpaw built for me when I was about Daughter's age.  Growing up, I definitely didn't treat this amazing piece of furniture with the respect it deserved and when I moved in with Husband, it needed a deep deep clean to get off years of crayon, glitter paint, puff paint, chalk and all the other stuff I did to it.  So this stuff has been under our kitchen sink for 5 years, completely forgotten about.

the ULTIMATE REMOVER.

The only downside to Goof Off! (and it tells you on the list of things it removes) is wall paint is susceptible to it's magic removing ability.  Some of our wall paint faired much better than others.  The paint in Daughter's room was completely unphased, the red paint in the dining room didn't care.  Our pantry cabinets that fell victim to a tragic sharpie accident a couple of years ago sang with JOY with they were cleaned (well, that was me singing). The living room walls were the only walls that we really had to be careful with.  We ended up using a q-tip so we only got the crayon.

All our walls look great now.  Not a crayon mark in sight.  And so far, no ones hands have had to be removed.  I love GOOF OFF!

When Book Jail Fails ...

Book Jail only works when I actually keep the kids (or actually, Son) out of it.

electric fence, anyone? ;-)

Even my makeup and toiletries aren't safe

Nothing is safe. Especially when you have a toddler. Double especially when you have two toddlers. That (and my general forgetfulness to put anything I don't want broken far far away) has led to an increased level of "Kids trashing my things" posts.

Most recently, Grabby McGrabberson (Son) managed to get all this down from my bathroom counter.

Then used my favorite mascara, Waterproof Lengthening & Volumizing Mascara from e.l.f. to draw on my cabinets.
He did not enjoy it when he was handed a wet wash rag and told to clean it. Luckily, it came off quickly and easily and (maybe) he learned his lesson.

A newly acquired mug - broken

I got this mug at registration during J-Day. Yay. I was excited for a new favorite coffee mug. I really liked that the inside was black. Plus it had this really cool stirring spoon that fit into the handle. I must not get out much because this was the first time I'd seen a coffee mug like this.

And here it is broken. (only the spoon luckily)

All it took was a little slip of the mind (putting it too close to the edge of the counter) and Grabby McGrabberson (Son) who gets in trouble daily for trying to get things off the counters, had it. And dropped it. sigh.

To make matters worse, the two main pieces of the spoon don't even fit together cleanly ... or really at all. There's middle pieces missing that I never found. So I can't glue it back together.

On the upside at least it was only the spoon. I might have shed tears if it'd been the actual mug.

What could be better than one baby doll?

TWO

Over the past few weeks, Daughter has been saying things like, "I sure wish I had a baby doll like Son's," and "I would really love to have a baby doll to take care of."

So, Daughter got her first baby doll. It looks exactly like Son's except it is dressed in pink (the only other option was the yellow like his). And much like I thought, she loved that baby doll for 17 minutes. And that's been about the extent of her really taking "care" of this baby doll she wished and wished for.

Son on the other hand, has taken this orphan baby into his arms and heart. He gets so excited he runs around shouting, "two babies. I have two babies." And I have to remind him that one of the babies is Daughter's and he's just taking care of it. (More than once she has demanded HER doll back when Son has been tending to the infants.)

He also brings me his dirty baby asking to put it in the shower. Its clothes are horribly dirty and I really should throw it in a pillowcase and wash the thing.

(BTW, I've posted a couple pictures from this angle lately and I want to explain what the background is. See the baby gate? It's the only one we've ever had and it's really a "play yard" I bought it two years ago to go around the Christmas tree. Now it is used for what I call "Book Jail." It is around my two bookcases that house most of my books. And the kids aren't allowed in book jail. Book Jail was erected shortly after Daughter started walking and she tore the cover off one of my Kurt Vonnegut books and a few pages out of a Bret Easton Ellis book. Also, the garbage sack is my shredded paper that is waiting to be taken to be recycled. Anyway, that's completely irrelevant to the rest of the post, but I thought I'd tell you about Book Jail and more things my kids trash.)

The blinds came down

The window in our bathroom is such a weird size. It was custom made to center over the tub. I didn't mind the weird size until the kids broke several blades and messed up the pull mechanism on the blinds. They looked horrible. I wanted to take them down and replace them with something. ANYTHING. cheaply. the cheaper the better.

I still haven't checked anywhere but wal-mart. I'm not making a special trip to price blinds and we just haven't been to Target, Home Depot, Lowe's etc. in months.

Wal-mart's widest length was two and a half inches shorter than the broken blinds. I did a little more measuring to see if it would work and there would be a noticeable gab from where the blinds end and the window jam on both sides. I thought that'd look as bad as having broken blinds. (sigh) I hate when simple things are made difficult.

I ended up buying a tension rod on clearance ($3) and two panels of sheer crinkle white curtains ($9 each). So under $25 which was cheaper than the too short blinds.

While I was ironing the wrinkles out of the curtains, I had a slight identity crisis. When did I become the "kind of" woman who irons curtains? (This is the ONLY window in the house that has curtains. The kids have valances that match their bedding but that's it) I suddenly felt very domestic, almost maid-like. I didn't like it. Then I realized that the only reason I was ironing the curtains is because I wanted to because I was too lazy/cheap to search for blinds that fit. Cheap and lazy, that's me. I calmed down, hung the curtains, and sighed. They looked pretty great.

As you can see, the real winner here is the cat. She gets more space on the ledge because the blinds aren't there. You'd think she'd be a little nicer to me, but no. She still sleeps on my pillow every night and bites my hand every time I try to pet her. She loves Husband and the kids. She loves to bit me. The one who feeds her.

The curtains REALLY light up the room. It's a nice change. And maybe the next time we're out and about, I'll price some blinds.

The Wise Man Massacre

Yesterday was Epiphany, a holy day. The day some Christians commemorate the visitation of the Wise Men to Jesus.

Son celebrated Epiphany by moving a toddler sized arm chair he got for Christmas up against the fire place, and using it to climb high enough to reach the mantle. Once there, Son grabbed a wise man (and an already injured shepherd) and in the words of Daughter, "threw them down on the floor real hard." She's the only witness and I consider her credible when it comes to telling on her brother.

I'd been waiting to put the Christmas decorations away until after Husband felt a little better. But after that, I'd had it. In 15 minutes I packed everything up and this morning we got the tree out of the house. All that's left now is to take the boxes to the basement. Goodbye Christmas, see you next year.

The already injured shepherd. Before last night he could still kind of hold the staff in his already broken fingers. Now I just have to rest it against his face.

This guy took the worst of it. complete decapitation.

I didn't even bother with the super glue. I just packed him up. Now next time I get him out he'll still be broken and I'll remember all over again how mad I was that it happened.

maybe next time I see this decapitated Wise Man, I'll be able to find the humor in the situation.

My Dirty Journal

my dirty journal and all its pieces.

The story of how My Life: vol. 5, Mommy's Book of Secrets turned into a shower toy for my favorite two toddlers:

Husband and I have a pretty big custom built shower in our bathroom. It's a great place for the kids to cool off after playing outside. They can walk around in it. Play. Get wet, not get wet. I let them play in there about once a day while I'm in the bedroom or bathroom feet away, listening to their silliness.

Last week, I was sitting on the bed finishing up a crochet project and the kids were playing in the shower. Well, Daughter was playing in the shower and Son was coming back and forth from the shower to the bed adjacent.

I'm paying little attention to what Son is holding as he goes back to the shower. About a minute later, Daughter yells something that I don't exactly remember. Something about "it is dirty" Then Son squeals. This was a new phrase for her (even in the shower) and it piqued my curiosity. I walk the few feet from my bed to my shower and peek in.

...

Daughter was lathering up my journal and Son was holding their container of soap.

lathering

up

my

journal.

(keep calm. keep calm. keep calm. If you lose control they will both get upset and then all three of you will be crying and your journal will still be soaked. rescue the journal deal with the kids later.)

I step into the shower. snatch my very water logged journal up off the floor and in the calmest voice I can muster I croak out something like, "My journal was not dirty. That was a no no no." I'm pretty sure it came out as a screech.

I take the journal to the counter, start flipping through the pages. they are mostly ok. the top, bottom and outer side inch was soaked on all the pages, but the middles of the pages were still dry. I calm down a little. My journal has really thick pages. I think it has a pretty good chance of drying out.

So, I turn around to start doling out the age appropriate punishment for each child even though I wasn't sure what that was yet and I notice the floor. pages of my journal on the floor. the inside front cover on the floor. They ripped out 8 pages and most of the inside over. Again because the pages are thick I was able to get them laid out flat to dry. I became slightly traumatized. I stuck my head back in the shower to announce shower play time was over because it is a no no no to bring books in the shower and wash them. That was all the discipline I could manage at the time.

(sigh)

I still haven't tried to put it back together yet. tape, staples, whatever. I'm not quite ready yet. The book is hard to close and the pages while not quite stuck together are hard to turn. And they are definitely water damaged.

Oh what a story Volume 5 has to tell! Also, I've learned that my bed side table is no longer a safe place for my journal.