adventures in potty training...etc.

Not that we're totally potty-training quite yet. We're just "having fun" with it. Ha! I know that phrase doesn't really describe potty-training, but I mean it as in, we have the potties, and the kiddos sometimes use them. They know when they've gone/need to go, and depending on their mood will use either the potty or diaper. But we aren't 100% trying yet. Just getting them used to it.

This morning I was upstairs with Bran when I hear Nuala yell, "poo poo, Mama! poo poo!" I thought she either needed to go, or had gone in her diaper and was reporting. I DIDN'T think she had gone in her diaper and then decided to remove that diaper and dump the contents in her little potty. If that's how things are going to be, we really need to work on her aim. And how the heck did it get all over her arms?? And her stomach, and her legs. Her hands I understand, since after dumping it all over the carpet, OF COURSE she had to pick it back up. And the bottom of her feet make sense, too, since poop on the floor just begs to be stepped on. Anyway, that was fun...I really am not too fond of the mini potties. It's just not that great having to clean them out. If Nuala wouldn't flat-out refuse to sit on the normal toilet, and if they didn't love hanging out naked together on their little potties so much, I would kiss those suckers goodbye and just use the smaller seat. Also, cute little portable potties are much too tempting to use as bowls for blueberries, or little toys...yuck. Even if they have been cleaned. But one of these days...no diapers! At least till the next one (or more). Bittersweet.

Also, they both have been climbing over the gate at the bottom of the stairs, so that doesn't do us a lot of good anymore. Our stairs are stairs of pain and doom. They curve and are hard wood, with a not-very-good bannister. They're also a tad slick. Right when we moved here, in fact, Z took a bad tumble while holding Bran. Luckily, they were both fine, though Z had to find himself a chiropractor pretty quickly. Bran is very competent on the stairs-of-doom, Nuala...not so much. I mean, she's fine, but usually she's travelling with arms full of toys and accessories and blankies. Not the safest, as she has come to find out a time or two. The lesson hasn't kicked in yet, though. I guess the gate had to be conquered one of these days. Sigh.

ALSO, this morning, after a rough night with Bran, I was amazed to look at the clock and see that it was 8:22! I knew they'd been awake since 7-ish and wondered, with more than a little trepidation, what in the world was keeping them so peacefully occupied. Then I heard little voices. "Hmmm...that's odd," I thought. "It almost sounds like they're outside...but that's impossible!" I knew there was no way they could bust out of their locked door (ha! I'm sure they'd find a way), but upon immediate investigation, I discovered that, lo and behold, they HAD been outside! The rascals figured out how to unlock their balcony door (I know, heart attack!) and had been hanging out scandalizing the neighborhood. "Scandalizing" because they were stark-naked on their bottom halves. Now, the balcony fence is high, and the bars are not quite far enough apart to fit through (Nuala got her head stuck once, though), but I have no doubt that they could have figured out some way to launch themselves from there. And yes, I did immediately lock the other lock on the door, the one where you have to have an actual key. I totally had no clue they could figure out the other, pretty difficult, lock! I definitely need to stay one step ahead.

So that's a little bit of what's going on in our house! Good times, good times. And did I ever mention that I'm really tired? Like, all the time?

(By the way, as I'm about to post this, and the twins are "napping," I can hear Bran at the balcony door, trying to get it open. Little rascal...!)