When Shannie has to go... Shannie has to go!

"When Shannie has to go... Shannie has to go"

Apparently many of our "issues" have to do with the bathroom, sorry about that!!   When Shannie has to go... Shannie has to go.  Most likely when Shannie has to go, it's already too late.

Picture this... a nice leisurely walk to the nearby park, soccer ball and kite in hand.  We were ready!   10 minutes upon our arrival.

Shannie:  "Mom! I have to go potty!!"   

Mom: "Didn't you go right before we left home?"

Shannie: "Yes, but this time I have to go poop!"

Mom: (in my head: OH SH@#$!, literally)  I didn't bring any supplies!  (Shannie needs supplies, usually wipes, extra underwear, the whole deal...  we have, what is quietly termed, potty issues)

Mom:  "Well, it is a park, and there are dogs who poop here, so we'll just go find a tree."  (yeah, I know.. shining parenting moment #437)

Shannie:  "Cool!"

Mom:  (after locating a tree with no poison ivy, use your imagination here... its was umm quite comical)

"Here's a good one honey, just lean up against this tree, relax, and the poopy will just fall right out!"  (yeah... right!!)

Shannie:  (what seems like hours later, as I watch for dog walkers, joggers, and that guy that plays golf on the soccer field right about this time ever day) "Success mom!!"

Mom:  "Well done Shannie, now let's use these leaves to wipe your bottom" ( I was SURE it wasn't  poison ivy)

Shannie: (always obedient, giggly, and pleasant, well okay mostly) gladly obliged.

We continued on with our park play, no worse for wear and with a funny little story to share.

***Until the next day***

While sitting at dinner...

Dear Husband:  How did you scratch your face like that it looks terrible (he's not heartless, it really looked terrible, and it was said with genuine concern)

Me:  "I don't remember scratching my face, but now that you say it, it does kind of hurt a little."  (thinking nothing of it)

***The next morning***

Me:  (to dear husband) "does this look like poison ivy on my face?"

Dear Husband: (trying not to laugh, but failing miserably, used all his boy scout skills and diagnosed the mysterious scratch) "nope, but it sure looks like poison oak!"  

Me: "Poison Oak!?  How did I get poison oak on my face?"

(Suddenly it dawns on me...  potty issues, in the park, leaves, tree...)

To end this lovely story, imagine the look on the doctors face when I walk in with poison something on my face, trying to explain how I got it and that most likely that poison something was also all over my sweet daughters backside, just not yet visible.  Then, imagine hearing the snickers and giggles from the nurses as the story was shared up and down the hallway, I mean seriously...  what's a good story if it isn't to give others joy and giggles.

"I'm gonna luv that baby"

"I'm gonna luv that baby!"

"That baby" to which Shannie is referring is "our baby."  The upside down picture below proves it.  (can you see... it's a baby in case you are, like me, completely clueless at the art of photographing microscopic miracles).  As a side note, it's also clear that I am completely clueless about the art of cropping and rotating pictures, I'll get there, have faith!

We are thrilled with the new addition to our family, and no one more so than Shannie.  She is beside herself with joy. Everyone in the state of Kansas certainly knows of our family situation.  Shannie is not shy, she's shared it with the neighbors, the neighbor's dog, the checkout clerk at the grocery store and the nice grandmother in the bathroom.

So say a few prayers for a healthy little Lehman and a patient mommy.  March is FAR AWAY and we are not very good at waiting for beautiful things!

"Just the Essentials"

"Just the Essentials"

When we first moved to Kansas City we lived in a sweet little hotel for about 6 months while we were waiting for our house to sell.  There's a lot of great stories from our "hotel days" that I'll share over time by this one happened not soon after we arrived.

Daddy had just secured us a weather radio, we figured since we now lived in Tornado Alley we should have such a thing.  Suddenly the weather radio beeps, all ears perk up and the announcer says something to the effect of:
 "severe weather is heading your way (not our way we soon learned but somebody's way), please gather up your essentials items and head to the basement of lowest level of your home away from any windows and doors... blah blah blah."   As daddy and I discussed our options, nervous dwarf hunkered down in the bathtub with a book,  Shannie gathered up her essentials.  Really what more does a girl need?

Marble Poop aka. the Elusive Marble - Part 2

I think I left off with *** The hours passed*** but the marble did not...

Let's continue from there...  the hours/days past also.  I believe I updated my Facebook status like this:

"t-minus 16 hours... still nothing to report" and so on and so forth.

So early Tuesday Morning we are preparing to leave the house on the way to the airport, I had prepped the children with what to say when the alarm goes off, I was armed with a picture of the elusive marble, as well as the package information for the TSA agents so they would (hopefully) not think my daughter was carrying ammunition in her small intestine (at least that's where I hoped the elusive marble was at this exact moment).

Dear husband drops us at the front door (no he's not heartless, it's a really weird airport and it would have been a lot more work for all of us if he had walked us in).

"Does anyone have to go potty?"  - Me of course, who else says "potty?"

"Not me.... not me..."  - echo the children who will actually have to go "potty" moments after we sit out butts in the tiny seats on the airplane and have to maneuver all three of us into the airplane bathroom because "Nervous dwarf" won't go to the bathroom alone in a strange place nor will he remain alone in his very luxurious airplane seat.

"Too bad, let's all try" - Me, of course, the always ahead of schedule so I have time to think about the dreaded 1/2 stall airplane restroom.  (that was all a lie, dear husband is the one that thought of that particular situation and I am ever in his debt!)

   "Not so nervous right now and I really don't want to go in the bathroom with the girl picture on it so I'll be brave dwarf" goes in the men's room (I share these details not so you criticize my poor parenting in letting my 7 year old use the airport men's room alone, but more so that you understand the hilarity of the situation).   Shannie and I trudge into the ladies room.

**** and the minutes pass***

After 2 checks on the brother waiting patiently as close to the "girl picture" as he could get without actually having to say he went "in the girls bathroom." I finally said "come on Shannie it's time to go"

all of a sudden...  PLINK!!!

WAIT DON'T FLUSH!!! I scream from outside her stall door.  

Shannie starts screaming "MARBLE POOP MOM!  over and over and over again, obviously paralyzed with joy because it took her at least 15 minutes to open the stall door.  By that time the innocent elusive marble had made it's way down the commode.  *Sigh*

After a brief interrogation, Shannie assured me that it was in fact marble poop and now those mean people won't ask her lots of questions when the alarm goes off... right!?!  

"giggling dwarf" couldn't contain himself when we exited the restroom, he said the whole terminal heard Shanning screaming MARBLE POOP! and people were actually laughing as they walked by the bathroom.  Kansas City International... you are welcome!

So, I bet you as dying to know what happened through security?

We sent the marble free girl in first... HORRAY!!!  she was dancing with joy.  I was next because her dancing is rather dangerous and I feared her smacking her head on the X-ray machine.  Clean as a whistle.  Finally "once again nervous dwarf" who was barely able to walk he was so nervous that his socks would go off....  beeped as he went through the machine.  the look on his face said it all.  "nervous dwarf" has the worst luck.

"Marble Poop"

Marble Poop: (n) An elusive bowel movement requiring much effort, time, impatience and finally gratitude.

My Facebook friends are quite familiar with the saga of the marble, for posterity it would be terribly unfortunate to lose the story to my Timeline, so I will share it again.

Mom: (for the 50th time in a week) Big girls play with toys they don't eat them.  

Shannie: Yes mommy.
(translation: I didn't hear a word you said, but I'm going to agree so I can do whatever I want sooner)

****  the minutes pass****

Shannie:  Mom, I swallowed it.

Mom: You swallowed what?  (not surprised or alarmed)

Shannie:  A magnet.

Mom:  A WHAT!?!!?!!

Shannie: A magnet (clarification: A round marble that we later learned wasn't actually a magnet at all)

Mom: Why did you swallow a magnet

Shannie: I didn't want to swallow it, I just wanted to taste it.  It tasted good.

Mom: Does it hurt.  (I ask that a lot)

Shannie: no (eye roll, she answers that a lot)

Mom: Sit here while I figure out what to do

*****the minutes pass*****

 with phone calls to my brother, my husband, my mother, my best friend, and anyone else who might need to know so they can give the necessary contradictory advice.

Mom:   Good news, we don't have to go to the hospital.

Shannie:  begins to cry...  (note: she didn't want to go to the hospital, she didn't realize it was an option until I said we didn't have to go)

Mom: (realizing she should have kept her thoughts inside her head) It's okay baby, we'll just watch your poops for a week or so, it'll come out.

Shannie:  Marble poops!? (seriously excited) I'll try right now.

And so it began... hour upon hour of attempting a "marble poop" with no luck.  That evening I am packing for our vacation...  

Mom: (To no one in particular)  socks... check, bathing suits... check, little bag for our carry on liquids... ch... oh SH*#!  metal detectors!!

Yes, my friends we were flying in 48 hours.  That means metal detectors, TSA agents, 1 mommy, 2 kids, and an intestinal "friend" that was becoming more and more elusive.

***** The hours pass*****

but the marble does not.

.... to be continued

"Let's make the world better, come on...   

Oops I forgot my lipstick"

So the dwarf's favorite song (side note: it's ironic that I call him a dwarf because he's actually a giant.  not a literal giant of course but he's one tall little man) says "we are young, so we'll set the world on fire..." or something like that, pretty sure I've only heard the kiddos version, which is often as distant cry from accurate.

Shannie loves singing the song, but she was definitely sure that she did not want the world to catch on fire.  (side note: someday I'll post a video of Shannie's "singing" it's best described as a cross between a cry for help and a very  terrible stage performance.  It often include dancing, flailing arm movements and inaudible lyrics.  It's quite endearing... really!)

yes, lipstick

So we are having spa day (patience, that's for another day) and she asks me why the kids want to catch the world on fire?  So, I eloquently explained what I thought the song (that I had never heard beyond the lyrics previously posted) was actually saying.  

Mom:  "Shannie that's saying that kids have so much goodness in their hearts they can change the world if they want to!"

Shannie: (not yet understanding that "changing the world" was a good thing, her world is pretty good)  was horrified!

Mom:  (wishing I had kept that though inside my head) "I mean that kids can make the world better! They are helping set the fire of the Holy Spirit on the world to make it better."  (mom pats herself on the back, theology and motivation in one fell swoop, WINNER!)  

Shannie: (not missing a beat) "ok, let's make the world better, come on..." (and she runs out of the bathroom, completely naked and throws open the front door)

***Queue not surprised neighbors who have seen this girl in all her glory on numerous occasions***

Shannie:  (To no one in particular, and with extreme exuberance) "OOPS I forgot my lipstick!" and she runs back in the house.

*** Queue giggling neighbors who pass on the call to CPS for one more day***