Just another week.

Oh, the things that I never dreamed of...Last night, Maiz was in the bathtub grunting and, um, farting (I'm sorry if you say "fluff" in your house, but it's my blog, so please deal).  We were like, "Do you need to poop?  Why don't you sit on the potty?"  

NOTE:  Maizie is entirely "potty" trained.  Yes, potty only.  She has yet to go numero dos in the potty.  No matter what type of bribing, cajoling, lawyering, or bargaining I do, she refuses.  She'll be ten before she does it, I think.

Anyway, she decided to "try," which was more than she's done before.  We, of course, didn't think she'd do it until she calls "I did it!!!"

Um, hmmm...

"I pooped and it's in the potty!" "I get my cash register!"  (The stakes for pooping are high).  

I will say is that it was very large AND in her potty.

Picked up and placed there by her.

Gotta love it.  

IN other news, here's what happened at McDonald's today.  We (me, my baby bag-it's like another toddler, Iris, and Maizie) are going in the door, and while I'm trying to "herd cats" inside, I open the door right into Maizie's forehead.  She is knocked on the floor and is "silent screaming," so I figure I have 10-12 seconds before I'm noticed (when she finally takes a breath and REALLY screams).  Of course, people are waiting to get out, and those McDonald's foyers are so huge, not to mention that they could cook their fries in there it's so hot, and we're all on the floor.  I somehow manage to get everyone (baby bag 

included) inside and to the counter. 

"Hi, she just hit her head and I need some ice."

They hand me a cup.

"Um, more like an ice pack."

But, the minute she hears ice pack (by this time my 12 seconds have passed and she's screaming like a banshee), she squirms off the counter and onto the floor and starts running around the McDonald's, flinging herself into retirees booths.  It was like a strange game show. 

"Owie....OWWWWW...I don't wanna ice pack!  AHHHHH!!!  OWWW!!!"

And EVERYONE is staring at us.  And NO ONE is helping.  And if I were to blink I would cry.

Finally, a frail old lady offers to hold fat, grumpy Iris 

while I calm Crazy down.  And I think, this can't possibly end well.  And over the hunched shoulder of the lady (VERY sweet, though), I see a ma

n bring a high chair.  

And then a McDonald's employee (female, and I am assuming mother), brings out an ice cream cone.  And the nice old lady stayed with them while I ordered. 

So it ended okay.

Here's the damages.  Check out her forehead.