Poop

Warning: If the title of this post wasn't enough warning, here is your second warning. This post is about poop! If you don't like reading about poop, don't read this.

Paul is now 25 months old, traditionally too young for potty-training, I believe. However, just after his birthday, he started saying "potty" and then actually going. I was amazed at the genius of my child, so I went out and bought him some cute Sesame Street underwear.
Off and on the last month, I have been putting Paul's underwear on and taking him to the potty regularly. He has been doing great!
The first time I took him out in public in underwear we were at church. I was just bragging on him to one of our pastors when I realized there was a puddle forming at his ankles. We took a break for a few days after that.
This week we are at it again, and Paul has been doing great. Yesterday at Lowe's he told me he needed to go potty and was able to hold it until we got there. I was so proud of him.
I left him in his underwear and went to a movie last night with my friend Alli. When I walked out of the theater and turned on my phone, I was snorting with laughter. Poor Adam sent me a picture of an unfortunate surprise that appeared when he was playing with the kids.
Today we went to my grandfather's house to visit. Paul peed on the floor twice and then pooped in his underwear. I patiently took him to the potty to clean him up, but then he stepped in it and started freaking out. Then he started thrashing his foot around, trying to get the poop off of it and we ended up with poop all over both of us. I wasn't very patient at that point.
He is currently in diapers.

Freaky Deaky

Two events happened this weekend that I can only refer to as freaky deaky or God. I prefer the latter.
I was driving home from the grocery store on Saturday and saw a man asking for money. He had an oxygen tank and a cane. I don't know if they were props or if he actually needed them, but I felt bad for the guy so I gave him $2. I also offered him a hot dog that Paul hadn't even touched, but he didn't want that. He said he couldn't eat hot dogs. That lead me to believe that maybe he was a faker, but oh well, I tried to share love with him anyway.
When I got home the mail was in the mailbox. When I opened it, I received $2 for a phone survey I recently completed. I was completely reimbursed from my investment with the possibly-faking-it bum.
Yesterday Claire and I went to early worship service at the church. Our late friend Susan loved going to early worship service. When we were singing the closing hymn, a memoriam paper from her funeral fell out in my hand. We don't usually sit where we sat yesterday; I always let Claire pick the pew. So of all the pews in the church and of all the hymnals in the pews and of all the pages in the hymnals, I chose the one with Susan's funeral program in it. I felt like she was there worshipping with us. I passed the paper on to a friend who dearly loved Susan but who couldn't go to her funeral.
So either these events were freaky-deaky coincidences or they were God. You decide.

Stranger Not Danger

I went running this morning, and I encountered several people along the way. That's not so remarkable, but I found myself approaching each person in a unique way.

To the elderly lady walking her dog, I said, "Good morning!" She replied with a smile a mile wide. To the landscape worker that I also saw yesterday, I looked away. To the man who came out to get his paper in his underwear, I looked down to avoid any embarrassment. To the two ladies that were chatting together as they walked, I turned the corner.

If my children had been with me the situation would have been completely different. Claire and Paul not only love interactions with everyone, they seek them out. When I walk pulling them in the wagon, they start yelling "Hi" to people a block before we actually approach them. They are always disappointed and sometimes cry when I forget to roll down the car window as we approach a construction site so they can greet the workers.

They brighten nearly everyone's day that they come in contact with. So on my run this morning, I was conscious of how unlike Claire and Paul my interactions were. I was raised to avoid communicating with strangers, so I often revert back to that. However, Claire and Paul like to smile and greet everyone. People come up to me all the time at church or even in stores to tell me what a blessing my cheerful children are. I agree, so I try to share them. Of course we have talks about leaving a place without me, but as far as having a conversation with a stranger, I encourage it.

I believe God often puts people on our path to interact with. The elderly lady I greeted might have been returning to an empty house and no one to talk to the rest of the day. The others I passed will have to be missed opportunities. Tomorrow when I go run, I will be more like Claire and Paul and seek out people to greet, rather than look away.

McDonald's Fail

For ten years or so, I've been boycotting McDonald's.

McDonald's is everywhere. My parents didn't take me there when I was a kid because they didn't like it and I grew up to feel pretty much the same way.

Last week our dear friend Charles died, and I believe having elderly people in our lives makes us better people, so I decided to try to do more activities with our blind friend, Jo. She wanted to go to the new McDonald's by her house, and because I love her so much, I consented.

Due to several circumstances, Jo had to back out at the last minute, but the kids, who had never been to McDonald's, still wanted to go. I decided to suck it up and do it.

I walked in and immediately was frustrated because I couldn't find the breakfast menu. Then I was informed that breakfast was over and they actually change menus when they stop serving it. So I settled for two Happy Meals and a yogurt parfait.

I let the kids eat and then play in the play area. Claire was having fun and making friends. Paul couldn't get up the ladder, so he stayed at the bottom, happy to wave at Claire above him. Then Paul figured out how to get up in the tunnels and immediately we had problems.

Paul couldn't get out. He was screaming like he was mortally injured. I sent Claire in to get him and he shouted louder and refused to let her push him down the slide. Then Claire tried pulling him, but she wasn't strong enough to get him moved.

I surveyed the slide and decided it could hold my weight and climbed up a little bit. I couldn't see him, so I slid down. He wouldn't move. I climbed up three times, but gravity worked against me every time and I ended up sliding down before I reached him.

I had to climb the ladder just like the kids. I'm not a waif, so I was really worried about breaking something. I had to contort my body to get up the ladder tunnel and then cross the netting and then pick the right slide tunnel to go down. I was also wearing a knee-length skirt, so I tried hard not to flash the people below.

Eventually I found Paul. He screamed even louder because I put him in the slide and pushed him down to the ground with my feet.

Both out of the tunnel, I grabbed our belongings and told the kids I hope they enjoyed it, because we're not going back to McDonald's.

Ode to Charles

Our dear friend Charles Harper died yesterday. He was 89.
Charles had an accomplished life. He received the Purple Heart in WWII and was known locally as Mr. Harper of Harper's Bluebonnet Bakery. He will surely be missed.
What I loved most about Charles was his generosity. Adam and I first got to know him when we started sitting by him at church. Before we had kids or a house with a pool, we would spend Sunday afternoons in Charles' pool and then dinner at El Fenix with Charles and a margarita. He was always glad to have someone around to swim with and we were happy to have somewhere to swim.
As he got older, he decided his home was too much work for him, so he decided on his own to move out. Before he moved he had his family come and pick anything they wanted out of the house. After they were done he even let Adam have his choice of tools from the tool shed. Charles moved to an assisted living facility and hired a firm to run an estate sale of his belongings. Then he sold his home. He never wanted to be a burden or extra work on anyone and wanted all his belongings distributed while he still could do it.
Charles used to take his camera to church and take pictures of everyone. The next Sunday you would be presented with a beautiful 8 1/2 x 11 candid photo of you or a family member. Most of the time you didn't even realize he had taken your picture. He also ran the church website until it was outsourced to someone else.
Every Monday and Friday morning Charles got up early and met the Methodist Men for a prayer breakfast at one of the local diners. At Vickery Cafe, they still have some of Charles' old license plates displayed. Every Wednesday morning he went to church to play dominoes and cards during Heritage Hour. As his health began to fail and he stopped driving, the church started to bring Heritage Hour to him.
Even in his late years, Charles was on the forefront of technology. He was the first person I knew on Facebook and Twitter, and he most recently took to Skyping his son in Las Vegas. He sent cute and clever e-mails daily. Sometimes he would send Adam a real funny one, but being a gentleman, would not send it to me. I always got an extra laugh out of that.
Charles loved our children. Claire took her first long walk down the hall of Mirabella, where he lived, and Paul enjoyed doing the same. When we visited him we would be surrounded by ourselves. I kept Charles supplied in pictures and he glued them to every surface in his home.
The kids knew where Charles kept his orange slice candy, held closed with a binder clip, and his peppermints. He never let the kids go home empty handed and even gave Claire a kitchen timer one time and unknowingly re-gifted several gifts we had given him. I always smile when I hear Charles kitchen timer from Claire's room. It's a popular toy.
Before the Sharper Image website went out of business he bought everyone he knew little gifts from there. We have cordless phones in our house and floating solar lights in our pool from Charles.
He had mechanical grabbers all over his apartment and the kids loved to use them to pick up items off his floor. He always had the Fox News network running on his television and several computers on to check his e-mail as it came in.
Before he died, Charles made all his funeral arrangements himself. He even picked out the funeral announcements to be passed out at the service. When he died yesterday, all his nephew had to do was make one phone call and everything fell into place.
The last time we saw Charles was Friday, July 2. We were headed out of town for vacation and wanted to give him a hug before we left. He told me he would be waiting until we got back. We returned Sunday and Adam tried to call him but there was no answer. He died the next morning, and I can't help but believe he did wait for us.
Somewhere in heaven right now, Charles and his wife Alta Faye are baking up a storm and tweeting about it. Too bad we don't have celestial Skype.