I'm a big kid now...and Madeline's growing up too

We've entered another delightful phase of potty training. And of course I have to blog about it, because this is my revenge for the torment she put me through along the way. In twenty years, when Madeline is appalled at how much personal information about her bodily functions I published for the world to see, I'll just smile and know that she got hers. On the bright side, Madeline has pretty much potty trained herself in the past three days. She knows when to go, she goes in without being reminded, she does everything herself, and she's as proud as a peacock. Incidentally, we didn't try any new tactics on her. She just decided it was time. Which drives me nuts, but I'm not going to complain too loudly since she's doing it. My kid is using the bathroom for its intended purpose! The excitement level around here is somewhere between giddiness and awe. If she keeps it up for a few more days we'll probably be breaking out the caviar and sparkling apple cider.

However, it's not all rainbows. We now have several new problems: in our enthusiasm to get her excited about the process, we slowly upped the ante from stickers to candy to wrapped presents for successful potty outings. Now that she has more control over the process, she manipulates the system to produce a success about twenty times a day. And bankrupting our present factory. So now we have to figure out how to ratchet down the magnitude of the rewards without inducing a potty strike. Because Madeline would totally go back to peeing her pants every single time on purpose just to teach me a lesson. She already has a fit if she gets the wrong present or if we don't accept without hesitation her declaration that she has successfully gone for the fifth time in twenty minutes. (On a side note, we're having a great debate about the fine line between letting her know we trust her and still facing the reality that a two year old's definition of "going potty" might be different than ours. Oh, the fun philosophical debates! Who knew potty training was so full of deep questions?) We also have to figure out how to get her from Pull-ups into regular underwear, because she has hysterics if we suggest the idea. Basically, we're just not going to mess with the situation for at least a week, because we're much too relieved that she's finally made some progress and might be totally potty-trained by kindergarten. Maybe. I won't hold my breath.

Only Fools Rush In

Ah, APril Fool's Day. We sort of have a love/hate relationship of sorts. I adore the idea of April Fool's. I would love to get a reputation as the best prankster ever. But somehow the day rolls around and I just can't bring myself to play any good jokes. I'm either afraid people won't take the joke well, or can't think of anything good, or don't want to put the effort into a really masterful plan. So as much as I'd love to tell you I'm out to get you, you're probably pretty safe from me. Unless you care to leave your facebook password for me, in which case I'll try to cook up a little something just for you.

Jessie is a big fan of pranks. Apparently when he lived up at BYU Idaho, he and his roommates were notoriously cruel to their friends of the female persuasion. Once they left a garbage can full of milk and cereal leaning against their door. I told him he ought to have been locked up. He also thinks taking all the labels off of their food cans is hilarious. I think it's a waste of food. Apparently this is why I never pull off any great April Fool's jokes. When I was little, my sister and I put all our stuffed animals in trash bags and stuffed them in the shower so my dad couldn't get ready in the morning. We thought that was pretty clever. But then my dad decided to pull a joke of his own and made us believe he was livid about it and that we were going to be grounded for about a year. I blame him for my inability to pull a good joke. It was traumatizing. Which is why I can't bring myself to play any jokes on Madeline either, because I don't want to screw up the holiday for her.

On a related note, I was very disappointed when I checked facebook this morning to see that none of my friends were unexpectedly pregnant, moving, or dead. Things have gotten better, but really people! Let's have some drama! Only about 1/4 of you are having some sort of relationship or disaster related crisis, and I submit that number is much too low. This is why technology was invented. Come on.

And speaking of technology, I leave you with this little nugget of technological wonder. Just know that when my phone contract expires, I'm totally getting me one of these:

http://www.pomegranatephone.com/

Happy April Fool's everybody! Enjoy your merriment! I'll try to get into the swing of things. And scare the living daylights out of someone. But only because I care.

Cami's Guide on How to Seem More Organized.

So the other day, we found out my mother-in-law was getting rid of a twin bed. And she graciously gave it to us, which is awesome, because quality sleeing equipment is expensive, people. And even though Madeline won't need to move out of her toddler bed for a while, I am all about anticipating the future here. So yesterday Jessie went and picked it up and brought it home. Madeline was practically dying all day to get the BIG BED. And when it appeared for about two minutes last night that she wouldn't be able to go get the bed with Dad our house turned into Crocodile Tears Central. It would have broken our hearts if it wasn't so funny. And then went she got to go it was like Christmas. And then when the bed actually got here...wow. I had no idea she would get so worked up. I wasn't going to try to move her for at least six months because I didn't see the need and Madeline is usually highly resistant to change. But at bedtime, Madeline climbed right on in to the big bed. So we let her stay there. But when we went up to bed ourselves and checked on her, she had migrated back to the toddler bed. I guess she wasn't ready for too much change. (Although the second she woke up this morning she went back to the big bed. We'll see where she ends up napping.)

In other news, we've decided to get organized around here. I don't know why. Maybe we're feeling motivated and disciplined because of our Get Fit plan. Which is going pretty decently. Except for the brownie binge yesterday. I can't help it that brownies are my Kryptonite. If you love me, you will come remove the brownie mixes from my pantry. Anyway. Back to the organization. Jessie has been wanting some of those can organizers that let you use cans in the order you buy them. But like beds, children and liposuction, those suckers are pricey. So Jessie had the brilliant idea of making our own. He went online and found a tutorial to make some out of cardboard boxes and glue. And got some boxes from our helpful neighbors. So now we have a pile of boxes and a plan. We'll let you know how hpthat turns out. We also decided to stock up on some food storage, in case all these earthquakes and the popularity of reality television mean the end of the world is coming, so now I have several cans of beans, oats, wheat, and rice and a book to tell me what to do with them (because the church, in marketing food storage, assumes correctly that I am an idiot. And that in the event of an emergency I will stare stupidly at my two years supply of wheat and go loot the nearest McDonalds. Because I hear their French fries will never grow mold. Natural food storage!) Other planned organizing projects include vague ideas of acquiring a filing cabinet, finally storing all of the clothes Kimberly has outgrown in her quest to be ten feet tall, and buying a chest to hide all the shoes that accumulate in front if the door. Don't these sound like great ideas? We think so. Maybe we'll just write a book about how to get organized and forgo the actual work of doing it. Sometimes I am a genius.

Basketball makes you fit and stuff.

Why hello. Welcome Back from our basketball break. Let's just get the necessities over with so we can talk about other things. My bracket is doing decently, although I'm starting to regret picking Kentucky. Probably not the best idea. I'm loving the upsets and the close games. And the iPad. Because I've gotten to watch approximately 3.4 games on our big screen television because Madeline would rather watch Snow White or Megamind than the Best Sport Ever. Ridiculous. I really don't know who raised her. Maybe it's because her bracket sucks. WHABAM! JIMMERED! (Sorry to all of you who are sick of hearing about him. But really, it's your own fault. For not worshipping idols. Party poopers. All the cool kids are doing it.)

Anyway. There was other stuff after that awesome weekend. Kimberly's appointment went fine, and there were no post vaccination breakdowns. Except mine, because it meant I couldn't use a sick baby as an excuse to watch basketball. Oh well. By the way, Kimberly is very tall. And very hungry. We started her on rice cereal and she just looks at us adoringly as we shovel it into her mouth. She's also tried sweet potatoes this week, rolled over a couple more times (this is news because after doing it the first few times she went on strike for three weeks), and has learned to sit up on her own for 30 seconds to a few minutes before she flops over in surprise at her own daring.

Oh. And in other news, Jessie and I are pretending to get fit. I joined this facebook group of women in my ward who want to lose weight, and Jessie decided he could shed five pounds or so, and we decided to have a weight loss extravaganza. Usually these don't go well. But so far this week I've been pretty good, and this time we're dieting AND exercising (please hold your applause), and setting real goals, and sharing them for accountability, and having weekly weigh-ins, and doing all the legitimate stuff you do when you're hard core and amazing. So you can expect to see me on the cover of some ritzy fashion magazine about June. I would name a specific example as a nifty writing strategy to engage you, the reader, but I don't know any ritzy fashion magazines, and I don't want to guess lest you mock me. But I promise to learn their names when I'm the star model for one of them.

You Make Me Feel Like Dancing

It's that time of year again. The thrill. The tears. The uncertainty. Digging deep. Flying objects. Lots of running. And that was just putting together my March Madness board with Madeline's help. But seriously, we're looking forward to the commencement of the games around here. Jessie and I are still hemming and hawing about our brackets, but the girls are settled and locked. Kimberly picked straight seeds, or in the case of the play-in games, alphabetically. The girl likes structure. (Really, I just couldn't think of any feasible way to have her pick 'games herself. But you don't get out of March Madness around here just because you're four months old. It's MANDATORY.) Madeline picked her games from flash cards with the team name, logo/mascot (whichever was easiest to grab off google), and seeding. For some reason she became fixated with Arkansas Little Rock, and they smashed opponent after opponent. Despite their incredibly lame logo. And became National Champion. Now I'm glad I didn't make Madeline put money on it, because people look down on you when you fleece your kids like that.

Anyway. Excitement levels around here are go. And I can't guarantee there will be anything on this blog besides basketball the next few weeks. We'll try. Kimberly does have a doctor's appointment today, so you may get a post tomorrow complaining about cranky baby syndrome if her vaccinations don't go well. In which case I may have to sit and hold her all afternoon and read articles about March Madness. My life is really difficult sometimes, but I don't mind sacrificing for my children.

In which we do not discuss that thing that happened.

So, BYU didn't deliver today. And there was much sadness and cringing in the Warner household. But we're going to focus on the positive. So...not tonight's game. Yeah.

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Okay. On the bright side, I went to the temple today for the first time in five months. Very refreshing. And it was also my first time ever going by myself. I am so awesome that way. Finally growing up and spreading my wings. The most awesome part of the whole night was the two old lady workers in the dressing room talking about the BYU/San Diego game. Except we're not talking about that. But seriously, it was funny, and I was grinning. But actually they were talking about rising taco prices. Because we can't talk about what they were really talking about.

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Anyway, on the way there, I almost hit a teenager on a tricycle. No lie. At least it looked like a tricycle. Some kind of tricycle/scooter hybrid that looked entirely awkward with a teenager hunched over on it. Is this a new fad I am not aware of in my lame old person world? Probably. On the way home two hours later I almost hit two teenagers on tricycles. I think one of them was the one who almost died before. I think the universe is trying to tell these teenagers something. Probably that if Jimmer's almost buzzer beater doesn't count, they don't deserve to live. Except this happened before the game, back when we were allowed to talk about the game. Which we're now not talking about.

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On one last sort of related note, while I was gone Madeline was watching some women's NCAA hoops and she said, "Look! Mommy is playing basketball! On TV!" And Jessie was all like, yes, that is most definitely your awesome MVP mother. She's the one making all the layups and rebounds and steals and stuff. And I felt validated that my two year old thinks I could play on a college level. (We can discuss this incident because although it is basketball related, it is not related to that other game we're not allowed to talk about. That one. You know. So don't mention it to me.)

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Happy Daylight Savings!

Keep them wagons rolling

Life rolls on here in Lehi, and we're doing crazy, awesome things. Being cool and incredible and all that. Speaking of rolling, guess who achieved that milestone today? That's right, we have a mobile baby. Sort of. Kimberly rolled over twice in quick succession and then refused to repeat the performance in front of her father, probably because she loves me more than Jessie. She was pretty pleased with herself. Madeline wasn't so pleased. Mostly because she enjoys being Kimberly's only means of movement and has been practicing rolling her over with efficiency and style. If Kimberly goes from rolling to crawling more quickly than her sister, it will be out of self preservation to escape Madeline's helpful overtures.

And speaking of Madeline, she continues to crack us up and provide most of the house's entertainment. We read scriptures in the morning before Jessie goes to work, which is a great idea, because I can pretend my closed eyes are a result of meditation. Madeline never really joins us, preferring to eat cereal or drive cars, and I was pretty sure she never heard a word. So you can imagine my surprise when she grabbed the scriptures after we were done yesterday and opened them up. This is how Madeline reads the scriptures: "And it came to pass that Daddy had Family Home Evening. In the name of Christ, Amen. And it came to pass." So I guess something is soaking in. Even if it's just a fancy phrase to begin stories for her friends.