Extra Emollient Night Cream is non-toxic.

Yesterday morning was a bit of an adventure.
It started out normally with me feeding Little Lady in the living room when Brother wandered off to play. Or so I thought.
Pretty soon it got quiet. Too quiet. This generally means trouble. Moms- you know what I'm talking about. I called out to Brother and got no response. I pacified myself into thinking he'd gone downstairs to play in our toy room.Nope.
A few minutes later I hear him calling out for me and crying. Since its not as easy for me to go him while feeding sister, I tried to get him to come to me. He didn't come. I didn't think too much about it. He's two. He's stubborn. I figured if he wanted me badly enough he'd come. He never came. After a few minutes he was still calling for me, so I put down sister and went to investigate. Lo and behold he'd gone into our guest room- aka my dumping grounds for baby carriers, diaper bags, anything I want out of sight- and had been rummaging through the diaper bag. What did he find? Lotion! Extra Emollient Night Cream (Mary Kay- great stuff) to be more exact.
Now you need a little background. Sister has INCREDIBLY dry skin. Thank you eczema. We lather her up with lotion and hydro-cortisone cream about twice a day. Not to be left out, Brother usually asks for lotion too- so we put a little on his hands and face now and again. Well, true to his two-year-old-itis, he'd tried to put lotion on "all by himself" this time. We are talking
GOBS. SMEARS. MOUNTAINS of lotion all over his face, hair, shirt, hands, arms etc. The picture does not do the amount justice. (Man! You're going to have great skin tomorrow!) He'd closed the door, but couldn't open it again thanks to the amount of lotion on his hands (and now the door knob). Hence the crying, and not coming part of this story.
Brother was also saying "Yuck, Ick," and trying unsuccessfully to clean out his mouth.
Fantastic.
He'd eaten it as well.
Well, I took a picture, called King- and we came to the consensus that we thought he'd be ok. I hurried and cleaned him up and then-just in case- went to try and look up the ingredients of night cream on the internet. I was hoping not to see any toxic warning labels. Well, finding the exact ingredients was harder than I thought- so I typed, "child ate lotion" into google. Not much. I tried, "Is lotion poisonous?" Bingo. Some article came up about some hand-creams being poisonous! PANIC!
I frantically called the Mary Kay Customer Service trying to determine if theirs was indeed in the poisonous category. After a recorded, touch-dial to select, delay I was transferred to a real person. By now I was getting frantic. I hurried and asked if she could look up the ingredients and any warning labels for their Extra Emollient Night Cream and told her why. Instead of a prompt response, she started asking for my name, my address, my phone number, my son's name. My thoughts (and some spoken words) were, "NO! Not a time to fill out the survey/ customer information! LOOK UP THE PRODUCT! I WANT TO KNOW IF HE'S EATEN SOMETHING TOXIC." "Sorry, mam. This is procedure." Then I got put on hold. She came back on the line and very slowly read me the ingredients. "WELL, IS IT HARMFUL IF INGESTED?" "What is your son's name again?" "CAN WE SKIP THE SURVEY?! IS IT HARMFUL?" "Hold on mam, I'll need to transfer you." Hold. I hung up.
Called back again. Got someone else. I hurried and explained the situation again and she said the other lady was following procedure and now she needed to start again. At this point I'm getting closer to hysteria. She again told me the ingredients (which meant close to nothing) and when I asked her if there were any warning labels she told me she needed to check. AGG! Thankfully, came back quickly and then re-directed my call to poison control who verified that no, Mary Kay's night cream is not toxic. Even if he ate a lot it would probably just give him diarrhea. THANK YOU! A REAL ANSWER. Relief.
I got off the phone and was still so geared up that I had to call King and half-cry out my story. It helped. I didn't poison my son (or let him poison himself). He's going to be fine. He'll live. I'll hide the lotion. Got it.
So today I am counting my blessings. He's two, he's curious, he's stubborn, he won't sleep, but he's fine. He's alive and happy (mostly). I get to hug and hold and scold and love him.
And Extra Emollient Night Cream is not toxic.

Potty Training...

I made it two days. Brother made it less than that. Despite treat incentives, praise, and cheers, he didn't seem very interested after a few times. He became a great negotiator, though.
Me: Lets run go potty, son.
Son: ....pause. I want a sucker. (not the normal bribe).
Me: Well, if you go potty in the toilet, I guess you can have a sucker.
No result.
In a nutshell? We'll try again in a few months...

Dad, you are amazing.

So, another project has been under way lately. At first I tried to keep a secret from King (since it was his idea) but that went down the day one not so great day when it was still out on the kitchen table when he came home from work. What is it? A clothes drying rack...
See?
Just one more piece of hardware needed (I'm spray-painting it so its not gold anymore) and then we'll hang it on the wall. The next sentence is a bit shameful, but it was harder than I thought! My knobs aren't quite level (though I measured more than once!), my rods are all different sizes (measured those lots too!!!... and yet.. we still had to put screws in the side) and the paint job (3 layers later) is still not professional. But, I'm not as humble as I should be. I think its great! I think, "TA DA! I DID THIS!" I get kicked right back into being humble when I think of Dad. He builds what??? Houses. No big deal. So, Dad, you are amazing. Hats off to you. No laughing at my project and my new-found love of power-tools.

Just for Ames

Does this count as updated?
No?
Wait until tomorrow- I'll post pictures of the project I've been working on (not the headboard or the door.... )
Until then, I love you.

A work in progress...

So the two kiddos and I took a little excursion down to Lowes the other night. King had a conference call to make and its easiest to be out of the way (or out of earshot) when you're ... not there. So off we went at 7 pm. Normally close to bed-time mind you. What was I thinking? I wasn't. You wouldn't believe how many different types of crown-molding they had! And you wouldn't believe how hard it was to decide... really. Ask Brother and Little Lady, they loudly protested! Then again, that might have had something to do with the lateness of the hour. I sure hope this headboard turns out.
No pictures yet- I'm a bit slow. As in, I'm not even through sanding. Give me a few days of warm weather and I'll post more.

Over-rated.

I REALLY want a good family photo. Not one where only one, two, or three of us are looking at the camera or smiling- but all four please. Little Lady is a bit young to understand the concept of cooperation. Brother... well, he is two. Us? King and Queen? No excuses- but we still don't seem to manage. Hence, we took the family photo off the top of this blog. We're waiting until we get a really good photo... then again, that could take a really long time I guess. Maybe getting us all to smile and look normal is over-rated.
This is as good as it gets. Too bad we were standing by a bright window and therefore you can only see half of King.

Addicted... sort of.

I have discovered the world of blogs. Not my own- as evident by my lack of posts. But the world of DIY blogs. Love them. LOVE. THEM. I've found a whole SLEW of them that I frequent regularly. (Thank you Google Reader for saving me hours of having to check EACH one every day. If you don't know about this feature yet- you should call me.) I literally have started dreaming of re-doing several things: doors, headboards, cupboards, frames, clothes, etc etc etc. It is getting out of control. King has declared that, no- he does NOT want to paint anything, ever. I on the other hand end up thinking of 10 things I want to do all at once and then wonder where I will find the time. You, of course, are thinking... well, you could stop LOOKING at all those blogs. But can I really sand and paint the door waiting out in my "shop/garage" while holding a dozing baby. Hardly. Speaking of holding the baby... I guess I should save that for another post.

Geriatric Problems.

Hearing loss. Bad knees. These go hand in hand with getting older right? What about popping ankles? I'm a bit young to be creaking at the joints. Haven't hit a quarter century yet people. So why do my ankles (right one in particular) insist on sounding like the rice crispies commercial. *Snap, crackle, pop! Remember?
This happens at the MOST inconvenient times. Case in point. Just spent 20 minutes soothing a fussy baby to sleep. AND I got her to miraculously stay asleep as I transferred her to her bed. I turn- oh so proud of myself - to sneak and tip-toe away when *CRACK*. Thank you ankle.
Yes, baby stirs, and I return to her bed to pat her back and soothe her back to sleep.
Other instances include trying to sneak downstairs so King and I can watch a movie while brother falls asleep upstairs (he gets out of bed if he thinks we've left our post outside his door), walking down any flight of stairs- especially noticeable in extremely quiet places like the Temple. In fact, I had one kind, elderly, temple worker mention one day as we made our deafening descent down the stairs, "One of you is creaking." *Note, she may have said popping. Oh dear.