The Perfect Gift

I'm happy to announce that after months of only saying "da-da", Ada finally started saying "ma-ma" yesterday, which was the perfect Mother's Day gift.

I was also spoiled rotten by Joe who wouldn't let me lift a finger, gave me lots of sweet little gifts, and a new computerized sewing machine.

And of course I loved being surrounded by my kids yesterday. Mother's Day always reminds me that being a mom is all about them, not about me. It motivates me to be less selfish and more selfless, which is a reminder I need often. I'm lucky to have such great kids and I hope to always show each of them how much I love them so they will never doubt it.

Wordfull Wednesday: New Beginnings

There's nothing more joyful than holding your brand new baby after bringing them into this world. This particular picture shows me right after giving birth to Jennabee, my first girl after four boys, which was a new beginning for me. I pray I will remember the joy I felt the night of her birth after she becomes a teenager in ten years, when we will no doubt encounter a completely different kind of new beginning!

Running on Empty

The kids have been sick this past week. Especially Jennabee who has been so needy and fussy. For a few days I only averaged 2-3 hours of sleep due to Jennabee and Ada waking up in the night and I feel like I'm still trying to catch up. So today, when everything started to fall apart, I thought I was going to go insane.

It started this morning when I made the mistake of giving kids leftover doughnuts for breakfast. The kids were literally bouncing off the walls--a sign of what was to follow. The rest of the day was filled with little things that alone weren't such a big deal, but collectively drove me mad. Things like Jennabee, Austin, and Hans throwing tons of rocks from the rock bed into the middle of the lawn. Or Jennabee emptying a new box of sandwich baggies all over the floor. Austin also dumped a package of crackers onto the floor and convinced Jennabee to join him in smashing them to bits. When Jennabee took off her diaper and peed and pooped on her bedroom floor (she knows how to use the toilet, she just refuses to do it) and it got smashed into the carpet, I didn't think I could handle anything else. But less than an hour later, Austin had knocked over a full cup of water behind the stove while I was trying to get dinner started. As I pulled out the stove to wipe up the water, I was holding back tears. Just then the corner of my eye caught a glimpse of something shiny on the floor where the stove once sat. Lo and behold, a colorful, foil wrapped, Cadbury Creme Egg was resting against the wall. It was the long lost egg from our Easter egg hunt a couple months ago. It had been sitting on the back of the stove and fell down behind it before anyone could find it.

Are you wondering if I ate it? I did and it was delicious! And did it make me feel better? A resounding YES! I was in dire need of refueling and as silly or childish as it might sound, finding that egg made me feel kind of special which was the kind of fuel I needed right at that moment.

Unplugged

Joe and I decided to get rid of our TV service on Tuesday, which in our town means no televison, not even with an antenna. Once the kids finished their schoolwork, all they wanted to do was watch TV. For the most part I limited their screen time to one hour a day, but let's face it, when a mom needs a break, it's so easy to give in to more time. I was also tired of the fact that it killed their creativity. I was tired of being asked "Mom, what can I do?" followed by any suggestion of mine being immediately dismissed. It was time to say goodbye to the babysitter and let them figure out how to create their own fun.

I don't watch much television, but I do have one television addiction--American Idol. So it hurt a little to disconnect the service on Tuesday, which is the day American Idol airs. LUCKILY, many of my fellow American Idol fans post the performances and judging on YouTube almost immediately after the contestants perform, which means I still get to see what I want to see without all the fluff. It's a win-win situation.

So goodbye, dear television. Thank you for the entertainment you provided us during the NCAA B-ball tournament and other college sporting events, American Idol, and the many Nick Jr. and Boomerang cartoons my children enjoy. I wish I could say that you will be missed, but alas, I have to admit that I'm rather excited about our new future without you.

One Month Milestone

I....have been.....a zombie. But this morning I have a breath of new life. A breath of new hope. Last night, the night that marked her birth exactly one month ago, Ada slept for five hours, from 11 p.m. to 4 a.m. This is HUGE for her! We started out with her waking every two hours and after I nursed her, she would not go back to sleep. It was not fun. Then she graduated to waking every three hours and went right back to sleep after her feedings. That was better, but I.... was still...... a zombie. Let me tell you, five hours makes a DRAMATIC difference. I feel like a new woman this morning. Thank you Ada!

Catch Up

I've heard my mother-in-law say that pregnancy really feels like 10 months by the time you deal with all the intense changes you go through the month after you give birth. This "tenth month" has taken it's toll on me, hence the big break from blogging. One thing that was especially horriffic for me this time was my "after cramps". Someone told me that they get worse with each child and my experiences have convinced me this is true. With the twins, I don't remember feeling any cramps. When Hans came, Ibuprofen kept everything under control. That didn't cut it with Austin and Jennabee, so the doc prescribed Hydrocodone which easily got me through the pain. This time Hydrocodone didn't even make a dent! I seriously felt like the pain was as bad as labor everytime I nursed the baby. Tears streamed down my face and I tried (unsuccesfully) not to writhe around and cry out loud. After about a week and a half of torture the cramps became less intense and I was able to nurse without dread. I hope this admission hasn't scared anyone from having more kids!

Now to catch up with a few things.

The week between Christmas and New Years brought two visitors to our home. My little sis, Lauren, who was in Iraq, made it back to the states and was able to come and visit us for a couple days. Now she's stationed at an Army base in Georgia where she is going to train and teach new Army nurses. My dad was also able to come up from Southern California and visit us for a couple days. Their visits overlapped so it was fun to have both of them here at the same time. Lauren left Friday, my dad left Saturday, and Sunday night I was in labor and heading to the hospital! They just missed getting to see Ada.


My mom was able to come and spend a few days with us after the baby came. It was great having her here to help with the kids, the house, and cooking. We were sorry to see her go!


Luckily my mom got to be here for Hans' birthday which was on the thirteenth. Instead of sticking seven candles in a cake, I stuck them in a Hostess mini pie (a special request from Hans). That was cool with me because I honestly didn't feel up to making a cake, so it was mini pies all around. He was happy to get some "new" toys just as his Christmas toys started getting "old", but his coolest present was the newt he got from his dad. A newt is a little lizard like creature that likes to live both in and out of water. So he was water in his cage and a cat statue (we couldn't find a rock with all the snow outside) which allows him to sit outside of the water when he wants to. He eats nasty little worms that I have vowed never to touch. I guess that means Mom won't be feeding this pet!

Pies for everyone!

The newt

Special Delivery

She finally arrived! Ada Elizabeth Harris was born at 1:42 am on New Year's Eve morning, 9 days early. Sticking with our tradition of using family names, we named her Ada after my great great grandma on my dad's side, and Elizabeth after my great great grandma on my mom's side, both very neat women.

She weighed in at 8 lb 2 oz, my heaviest baby thus far, and is 19 1/2 inches long. Notice her chubby cheeeks and double chin.

The two sisters have had a chance to get acquainted. When somebody else is holding Ada, Jennabee says, "Hey, that's MY baby!"

I'm so happy to have her in our family. I wonder everytime I give birth if I can really love a new baby as much as I love the children I already have. As soon as they put the baby in my arms and I hear that first tiny cry, there is no doubt; my heart just swells with love for my new child. Welcome to our family Ada, we all love you!

Home Alone

Joe left today on another business trip--this time to Milwaukee, WI for a trade show until Saturday. So the kids and I are mixing things up a bit to make the time go by without him. I had each boy pick a favorite meal and plan a dinner menu (including veggies which they are very picky about) to help me make one night this week. They were all very excited about it and got to pick a special dessert to make for their night. Grant was the first boy up today and did a GREAT job! He practically made the whole meal himself with my supervision. I noticed that he was the only one who cleared his plate completely. I think his involvement in the planning and making of the meal made him determined to have it be a success. The only glitch: He made chocolate cupcakes for dessert and Austin started chasing Joseph around the house while in the midst of eating his cupcake. It left a trail of moist chocolate cupcake crumbs all through the house on the light colored carpet. I attempted vacuuming them up only to realize that the vacuum was just smashing and smearing the chocolate into the carpet. I spent the night scrubbing several stains. But all in all I think it was a success and I can't wait to cook with the rest of the kids this week.

I'm also excited to sink my teeth into a book I've been wanting to read for a long time. I love, love, LOVE to read a good book. So why, oh why has it been over six months since I've read for pleasure? The answer is that I have no self control when it comes to reading. Once I start, everything else falls by the wayside. My kids, my husband, my household duties all suffer from neglect until I finish the book. The counsel "moderation in all things" goes in one ear and out the other and I spend a long time afterwards suffering shame and guilt because I wasn't able to control myself. So after the last fiasco over six months ago I decided I needed to abstain from reading for pleasure for a little while until I could figure out how to read in moderation and keep my priorities straight. With Joe out of town, this is the perfect chance for me to read at night after the kids go to bed. My goal is to exercise self-control during the day by not picking up the book again until the following night. I'm determined to be successful.

Everybody seems to be feeling better. My kidney stone has decided to settle again and I haven't had much pain this past week. The gastro-intestinal bug we had seems to have gone through the whole family except for Jennabee and Hans, so if they make it through the next couple of days, I think they will have escaped it.

We're spending the days doing homeschool, chores, sports (Hans--soccer, J & G--flag football), scouts, and planning for Halloween. We've been having a great time! Thanks for all the kind and supportive messages we received the last couple weeks--they helped cheer me up!

Utlrasound Says It's a .....

Girl!

Well, the ultrasound technician said she's 95% sure that it's a girl. So we'll expect a girl, and if it's not we'll have a fun surprise. I'm excited that Jennabee will have a little sis.

Joe wasn't able to make it the day of the ultrasound, so I brought Jospeh, Grant, and Hans with me. I warned them that it would get a little boring with all the measuring of different parts of the baby that had to be done. Luckily the technician made it fun for them and talked with them about what parts of the body she was looking at and sometimes had them guess. One of them thought that the four chambers of the beating heart were the baby's fingers moving around. They were excited when they finally recognized the form of the baby from the profile view and saw it trying to suck it's thumb. They had all guessed it was a boy, so were a little disappointed that they guessed wrong, but are still very excited to have another sister.

Joseph and Grant are.....NINE YEAR OLDS!

Joseph and Grant turned 9 today! It's a tradition in Joe's family that during a birthday dinner, mom gets to tell the story of the birthday boy/girl's birth. Since none of you will be having dinner with us, I'll share the story with you here on our blog.

Five months after Joe and I were married, we were so excited to find out we were having a baby. Early in the pregnancy I had an ultra sound done to determine my due date. The doctor showed us a little dot the size of my pinky nail and said, here's the baby...here's the heartbeat.....took some measurments....said I was about seven weeks along...etc. Then he moved the scanner around a bit and he got this kind of excited look in his eye. His leg started bouncing up and down. He scanned one way and then another again going back and forth. Then he smiled and said, "I think we have twins here!" I was so indescribably surprised. I remember starting to feel light headed as everything ran through my mind at once. I was so taken aback I don't even remember looking at Joe to see his reaction. After the initial shock subsided, I felt an overwhelming sense of excitement at the thought of having twins.

The pregnancy progressed well and when I was 27 weeks, about six months along, I went in for a checkup appointment and the doctor said I was already softening and possibly dilating. He sent me to the hospital to be monitored. I kept having contractions so they gave me a shot of tributeline (sp?) which is used to stop labor. It didn't work, so they put me on the dreaded magnesium drip through my IV. It was a horrible medication that I would never wish on anybody. I was loopy while on it, but I remember feeling hot in my chest cavity, and throwing up uncontrollably, and not being able to eat or drink even though my throat was completely parched. I begged Joe and the nurses to give me something to drink but my requests were always rejected. After a night of being on the stuff, I had dilated 1 centimeter and that's when the doctor decided to life bird me from Pullman hospital to Sacred Heart in Spokane. They wanted me at a facility that had a newborn intensive care unit that could care for 3 month premature babies.

After arriving at the hospital, I was still out of it from the medicine. When I came to, the spokane doctors told me that the labor had stopped. They did an in room ultrasound and estimated that the babies were each 2 1/2 pounds. They said that I had to stay there on hospital bedrest until the babies were born. They were going to try to keep them inside as long as possible to give them the best chance of health and survival. They took me off of the magnesium drip and put me on a pill that I had to take every night to keep contractions at bay. I also had to get a steroid shot twice a week for as long as I stayed there which would help the boys' lungs get stronger. Most patients were there for a max of a week, maybe two before they ended up having to deliver, but I ended up lasting seven weeks! If I had lasted half a week more, they were ready to send me back to Pullman!

Joe had been driving up from Pullman to see me every Friday after work, and driving home every Sunday night so he could be back at work Monday morning. It was a Sunday evening when I began to have contractions that were closer together than normal. Joe was getting ready to leave and I felt silly asking him to stay if it was just a false alarm. Something inside told me to ask him to wait a while. I was glad I did because the contractions didn't stop. The doctor came in, they monitored the babies heartbeats, and when Grant (Baby B's) heartbeat dropped for two contractions in row, the doctor checked my cervix. I was dilated to five centimeters. He said that because the heartbeat dropped he wanted the babies out ASAP and since Grant was breech that meant a c-section no matter what anyway. They immediately prepped me for surgery, got me in the operating room, and checked to see if the epidural had numbed me sufficiently. I could still feel the pain in the pinch so they decided to give me general anesthesia. I remember counting down from ten and never making it to number one. I was out like a light and didn't wake for several hours.

When I woke up I was in another room and Joe was standing next to me. I was in the post-surgery daze and mumbled to Joe, "Are they out of my tummy yet?" He said they were and told me all about it but I don't remember a word he said. I kept going in and out. He tried to show me a video that he took and I remember being happy to see them, but it was all a blur.

When I woke up the next morning, I was alert and anxious to get to hold my babies. They were doing well but couldn't be removed from the NICU (newborn intensive care unit). The nurse came in and said they would wheel me over there once I was able to sit up well. I did all the little exercises to get my post c-section body to a sit up position on my own. They told me I was all set to go to the NICU but they had to do one more set of vital signs first. They took my temperature and told me I had a fever! That meant that I was not allowed in the NICU because I might have an infection. I burst into tears. All I wanted was to see and hold my babies. They told me they would wheel me to the window and hold them up for me to see them. It was a very small consolation. When I got to the window and saw them, I was amazed by the beautiful little miracle they were and as they wheeled me away I started sobbing because I couldn't hold them and let them know I was their mother. That day happened to be my birthday and I got lots of phone calls congratulating me on the birth and wishing me a happy day. I feel bad because everyone who called me was greeted not by a joyful mother, but by an emotional post partum wreck who broke into sobs every time they asked about the babies. I remember when one woman from church called and excitedly asked how the babies were doing, I said through choked sobs, "I don't know because I haven't got to hold them yet!" The poor lady had no idea...

The next day my fever was gone and I got to hold my sweet little babies for the first time. I was love struck and we bonded instantly.

Holding Grant for the first time

Grant weighed 4 lb 7 oz and Joseph weighed 4 lb 4 oz. They breathed fine on their own, had to be treated for a little bit of jaundice and had to stay in the hospital until they gained some weight. Grant reached his weight goal a day or so before Joseph, but didn't pass the "carseat test" where they monitor his vitals while sitting in his carseat for a certain length of time. One of the alarms went off and they said they would have to keep him and monitor him a few more days. Joseph ended up coming home after 7 days in the NICU and Grant came home after 10. When we were finally all together as a family everything felt perfect, the way I envisioned it would, and we quickly settled into life with two little newborns. Now those cute little bundles are nine years old! I will always feel that they are my little miracles.

Brothers finally together at home

Happy Birthday Joseph and Grant! Your mama sure loves you and is glad you made it safely into this world!

Peanut Butter Problems

Saturday night, Austin found a large spoonful of peanut butter on the kitchen counter, which had been abandoned by Hans, who likes to eat peanut butter off a spoon. He put the peanut butter between his hands and smeared it around until it melted, and proceeded to paint peanut butter handprints along the wooden paneling of the peninsula in the kitchen. Luckily I caught him before he could make a sixth handprint and the mess ended there. The mess was small enough that I kind of chuckled about it and thought it would be fun to post a picture of it on this blog. I left the handprints there another day until I found our missing camera. Then I took a couple pictures and finally cleaned it up. It turns out that waiting to clean it up for a photo-op probably wasn't a good idea, as you will find out after reading the rest of this post.

Austin's peanut butter artwork

Hans, Austin, Jennabee, and I stayed home tonight while Joseph, Grant, and Joe went to baseball. We were hanging out downstairs and after about 5 or 10 minutes I realized Jennabee had left us and gone upstairs. I went up to get her and just about died when I reached the living room. She loves to mimic nowadays and leaving Austin's peanut butter handprints on the wall for too long must have made her want to do the same. Peanut butter was everywhere! Painted all over the textured walls. All over my piano bench. Huge globs of it were plastered on her hands and face. Her expensive little soft soled shoes were covered in it and had left about thirty thick footprints of peanut butter ground into the carpet. I tracked the footprints to the pantry where either Austin or Hans had opened a jar of peanut butter and left it on the lowest shelf without closing the pantry door. I was frustrated with myself for not keeping a closer eye on Jennabee, but let it go, focused, and got to work. Jennabee went straight into the bathtub and got cleaned up. Once she was taken care of I attacked the walls, followed by the carpet (which was the most difficult), the piano bench, and finally ended with the sticky mess left in the pantry. Her soft soled shoes are sitting in the sink still waiting to be washed.

They say that every cloud has a silver lining and I did manage to find something positive in this situation. My wooden piano bench is shinier and glossier than it has been in years. Who knew peanut butter would work better than those dust sprays they sell in the store?

Where there is smoke...

...there isn't always fire. I was really excited this morning when I went online to check my e-mail and saw that Joe was also online. He had stopped at an internet cafe in Tirana to check his e-mail. We had a chance to instant message and see each other in our web cameras. The kids were so happy to see Dad! Jennabee especially couldn't stop giggling and pointing at him. So where does "smoke" come into this story?

During our instant messaging conversation Austin said that he wanted some toast. I put some bread in the toaster and excitedly walked back to the computer to talk to Joe. I didn't notice that Austin had jumped on the counter and turned the toaster temperature to full blast after I walked away. I was happily writing to my husband when I smelled that horrible burnt toast smell. I got up and walked into a smoke filled kitchen where Austin was on the counter saying "Uh-oh mommy!" The bread was completely charcoal black without a single speck of brown left on it! I pulled it out and threw it in the garbage and hurried to open the windows, but I was too late. The smoke alarm way on the other side of our house started doing its job and kept shrieking at us. The kids started screaming and covering their ears. I grabbed a chair, ran down the hallway and luckily my really short self was able to reach high enough to turn it off. I finished opening all the windows and got back to Joe. I'm sure he was wondering where I went for so long. I happily informed him that our smoke detector was in perfect working order.

On another note, I finally broke down and clipped the kids fingernails today (see previous post). When I got to Hans he told me that he wanted to save his fingernail clippings.

"What for?" I asked.

"Well you know how I've been collecting rocks? (he's actually collecting pieces of gravel from our gravel driveway, washing them in the sink, and putting them in plastic bags) Well, I decided that these fingernails will be perfect for my fingernail collection."

"I see," I said, deciding not to make an issue out of it.

"I only want the really big ones, so try not to break them in half."

At the end of this clipping session he only had three that were worthy enough to be in his collection. I think he lost them shortly afterwards because he hasn't mentioned them since. I wonder what he's going to want to collect next?

Thirdly, I caught Jennabee boogying to some music that we were listening to the other day. I think it's pretty sad that my one year old can shake her hips better than her own mother! She must have inherited this ability from her Aunt Lauren. I'm not sure where she got that crazy fake laugh though.

Taking Things for Granted

Yesterday we were sitting in church when I looked down at Grant's hands and was disgusted at the amount of dirt that was caked in his very long finger nails. I realized the reason I had never seen such a sight before was because Joe has always regulary clipped our kids fingernails. Every week he calls them one at a time into the bathroom, sits them on his lap, and clips their nails while holding their hands over the garbage can. When I saw Grant's nails on Sunday it made me realize how much my husband does for me and the kids that I take for granted.

Joe called yesterday and talked to each of the kids for a minute. One of the first things Hans said to him was "I miss you Dad. It's so boring here without you to play with." Of course it was a wake up call to me to shape up and start playing with my kids more instead of being such a work horse, but even more than that I realized how much time Joe spends entertaining the kids when he comes home from work. I'm sure he just wants to wind down and relax at that time, yet he knows the kids need that kind of attention from him every day and sacrifices for them. I never realized how deficient I was in this area until he left on this trip.

I continue to learn a lot more about myself, my strengths, and my weaknesses. I'm actually grateful for the eye opening experiences that have come my way this past week. It's time to make some changes!

One Day at a Time

Sunday night, after several attempts to get the kids to go to bed and failing every time, I gave up, walked over to the couch and plopped down onto it. I had just snuggled my head into a couch pillow and wrapped myself in a blanket when Austin, our three year old, came up to me with a big smile on his face, dimples and all, and said "Mom, why are you so grumpy!" I burst out laughing. I knew I felt discontented but I couldn't place the emotion. Austin figured it out instantly. I was feeling grumpy. I had a wonderful Mother's Day. Joe and the kids showered me with love and attention and helpfulness. This amplified the grumpiness because I felt guilty for feeling this way at the end of such a wonderful day.

It wasn't until Joe's alarm clock went off at 3 AM the next morning that I really figured out what had made me so grumpy the night before. Joe was getting up early because he had to drive to the Spokane airport to leave on a business trip. Not the ordinary business trip where he leaves for a few days, we get to talk on our cell phones every night, and I party with the kids. This business trip is overseas and three weeks long! He is spending a week in Romania and about two weeks in Albania. Different time zones and no cell phone coverage means communication is difficult. Life with five kids can be CRAZY and he is the one who helps me get through every day. He is a fabulous parent and always bends over backwards to help me out with the kids whenever he can. He was the guy who while in law school refused to bring his books home with him. He went to class in the morning, work in the afternoon (or vice versa depending on the semester), and when he came home for dinner a little after five he was completely ours for the rest of the day (finals week being the only exception). A lot of people thought I was really strong to have been a law school wife with so many kids, but in actuality Joe took great pains to make sure I never had any hardships.

Even though Joe tried very hard not to wake me as he got ready Monday morning, awake I was, in bed, wondering how in the world I could manage without him for three weeks. Sleep had tranformed my grumpiness into feelings of overwhelming anxiety. It felt like the weight of the world was on my shoulders and I didn't have a strong enough backbone to carry it all. He "woke" me to say goodbye before he left, we wished each other well, professed our love for each other and he walked out the door. When I heard the door close I finally let the tears fall.

Yesterday was our first day without Joe and it went fairly well. I remembered to take the garbage out to the street (Joe does that every Monday morning), we managed to make all our appointments, and Joe's parents and his brother Jeff were a wonderful help at Joseph and Grant's baseball game. We were happily surprised when the coach let Joseph pitch for the first time in the last inning (our team was down by nine). We were surprised even further when Joseph pitched AMAZINGLY! He struck a guy out, almost struck the second guy out but the batter hit the third pitch and got a single. He almost struck the third guy out but the batter nicked it and sent a pop fly straight to the first baseman who caught it for the second out. Then the coach pulled Joseph out so another kid could try pitching before the third out. Joseph was on cloud nine. He has dreamed about pitching for a long time. We came home after the game, the kids went to bed for me without too much fuss, and the first day was over.

I think the key is taking this experience one day at a time. Three weeks seems overwhelming but one day is always possible. And maybe after 20 more days I will have a stronger backbone after all the exercise. Just in time for Joe to go to China in July!

Oh Where, Oh Where has My Friend's Bottle Gone?

This afternoon a gal from church came to our house with her 9 month old son to go over a flute part for my arrangement of "The First Noel". It's to be performed this Sunday at church by the ward choir. The flautist helped me spice up the flute part in a couple of places and we finished in good time.

As she was packing up her son's toys and things, she realized his bottle was missing. We spent about 10 minutes looking for it to no avail. I knew Jennabee must have picked it up and carried it off somewhere, but I looked in all of the likely places (closets, under beds, the garbage, and the bathtub) with no luck. The girl from church seemed determined not to leave without it so I couldn't give up.

All of a sudden my mind flashed back to when I heard Jennabee crying during our rehearsal and found her in the bathroom with her hand stuck under the toilet lid. I didn't think anything of it at the time, so I pulled her hands out, washed them, closed the bathroom door and forgot about the incident until the "flashback".

Could it be? Yes, it was possible. In fact, I was certain. It had to be there. I walked up to the toilet and held my breath as I lifted the lid.
As I looked down at that cute little bottle floating in the toilet water, I had mixed feelings. I didn't know whether to shout out gleefully that I had found it or moan with humiliation as I revealed the bottle's location.

The one thing I was sure of was that the truth must be told. I can only sweep one embarrassing moment under the rug per visit and that was already used up when I saw her baby's mouth stuffed full of Jennabee's snotty tissue which I hurriedly extracted and discarded without his mom noticing. Yes, the truth about the bottle must be told. I opted to act excited about the finding, hoping my enthusiasm would spread to my visitor and keep her from feeling disgusted.

I immediately saw that the enthusiasm was NOT spreading, so I quickly apologized, fished out the bottle, and ran to the kitchen sink to give it a good soapy scrubbing inside and out. She'll probably boil it about 20 times before she will even consider using it again. And Jennabee will probably throw at least that many things in the toilet before she grows out of the "toilet" stage. I better stock up on disposable rubber gloves...(what? is that splashing I hear? Coming from the bathroom? NOOOOO!--Not again!!!!)