Salvage Toy Box

Picked this wooden crate up at an estate sale for $7.  I had some rustic red paint that I was going to use in the kitchen, until I discovered that it was an atrocious color for the walls surrounded by vintage brown tiles.  However, it works perfectly as an accent color on the "new" old toy box for the chunky toys that won't fit in my neatly organized baskets.

I swept and lightly sanded the inside and gave it a good coat of paint.  This was mainly for decorative purposes, but it did also seal off the surface that the toys will be touching.  

In future days, I plan to put casters on the bottom so that it will roll.  But I keep getting visions of kids scooting around, skating in it and using it was a wheeled sled in the house.  For now, the wheels will remain a future addition.

Poop

Seems to me that my life revolves around poop.  I wipe tiny tushes all day and tend to a litter box.  I wash dirty cloth diapers in a toilet, and I clean fish poop out of aquariums.  

It's also a topic of conversation that happens every night at suppertime.  Don't ask me why.  I don't have the faintest.  Just that Brooke has trained her little body to go poop when it's time to sit down and eat.  

So yeah, poop.

This morning Brooke was hysterical because she had a skidmark in her britches.  I reassured her that it was not life threatening, and instructed her to bring a clean pair of panties down and we'd get her cleaned up.

Meanwhile, the Sisters are making gagging noises and yelling about how gross it is, and then this conversation happened.

"Girls, seriously, chill out and don't worry about Brooke.  I got this."  (Yeah, I use hip terms like chill and seriously.  Seriously.)

"But, MOM," Riley says, "it's POOP.  That's gross."

"Yeah," I reply.  "And I clean poop out of your undies every time I do laundry."

Savvy pipes up, "But that isn't poop.  It's fart streaks."

"Well what do you think 'fart streaks' are, girl?  Bits of colored air coming out of your butt?" I ask.

"Well, yeah.  Farts are brown," Savvy informs me.

To which I reply, "Uh, no.  Poop is brown.  That is POOP coming out of your butt and marking up your drawers.  Really, girls?  You haven't figured that out yet?"

And now they are making more gagging noises upon discovering that farts are, in fact, air and not colored and it's poop streaking up their underwear.

Thanks for letting me inject a little dirty humor into your day.

Busy, busy summer!

Horrible blogger that I am, I will attempt to update you on the family.  Since I haven't done so in the past month.  Shame on me.  The three people that read this can slap me on the virtual wrist at any time.

Before I hang my head in shame, here's a little something.

We've been planning and getting ready for our new school adventure.  The kids are enrolled in Minnesota Virtual Academy, which is an online school through the K12 program.  If you are interested, you can read about it here.  I have to admit to being excited and thoroughly terrified at the same time.  The supplies are bought (and not yet organized) and the materials have arrived.  Still waiting for the computers to be sent, and then we will be ready to go on September 6th.

In the meantime, Jesse and I will finish up the fence we're building in the back yard.  And attempt to finally complete the kitchen cabinet painting job that has been on going since - yikes! - November of last year.

Riley's toes will continue to heal from the freak toilet accident that happened at a sleepover.  Yes, a toilet waiting to be installed tipped over and the tank broke on her foot, slicing open three toes.  Nine stitches were required.  They have since been removed and the suture line is healing well.

Savvy will continue to recover from the oral surgery she had to remove her four baby canines.  A crowding issue spurred the extraction.  She closely resembles a beaver now, poor girl.  Don't tell her I told you that.

Isaac has managed to get past the last two oven locks I've installed on the oven door.  There are now three on there.  I hope this works, because the last time he popped the door open while it was running at a warm 400 degrees.  Scary for this mama.

Brooke will tell you that she is a rainbow-punching princess ninja.  And then she'll show you some moves that will blow your mind.

Just another day -- or month -- in paradise.