every potty has a pooper, that's why we invited you

She did it.

That's right.

Number two in the loo.

We danced, we celebrated,

and then we promptly sent the boys off to a hockey game while we girls went in search of a new Barbie.

Because my friends, that little gal had been a'holdin her poo IN, so not only did we have cause to celebrate over the fact that she'd done it in the potty, but we were celebrating the fact that she'd actually done it at ALL.

I love the look of pure astonishment that Toys R Us can cause.
Those aisles of stocked shelves can be overwhelming, not just to wee ones, but to the parents of the wee ones as well.

My kiddos each received gift cards to this most magical place, so we have Aunt Cindy to thank for this loot:

E picked a purple-haired Barbie, a half-dozen fake cupcakes for her kitchen, and a ballet tutu. MM is holding a new Minnie cell phone (because one can never have too many) and a mini Cabbage Patch in a lion costume.
Oh the happiness.

I must add that before leaving for the toy store, I too had to use the potty. After hearing me tee, Eliza patted my shoulder, told me, "Good Job Mommy! You want a new Barbie?" Can you even handle the sweetness of that? I told her that I just wanted HER to pick a new Barbie, but seeing as how proud she was of me, I think I'm at least entitled to a new pair of shoes.

Yes?

Moving on...

Muh boys enjoyed some UA hockey while we were perusin' the aisles.

Isn't my little man cute up there with his daddy's friends?

So glad they could do something manly while we were gettin' our girl-time on.

I made a lil' somethin somethin while I waited on the menfolk to get home.

It probably weighs in at a gajillion calories but it tasted so good, I didn't even care. It's another crockpot recipe I stumbled upon at school on Friday and friends, sometimes words can't describe the pure goodness of how something tastes.

This is one of those times.

Bananas Foster via slow-cooker:

1/2 C melted butter

1/4 C brown sugar (packed)

1/4 C rum (or 1/4 C rum extract)

5-6 bananas cut on the diagonal

Mix up those first 3 in your slow-cooker, toss in the bananas, and simmer on low for an hour. Since I was making this for one, I did about a fourth of what's called for and only waited for half an hour. Turns out, that actually worked, and consequently, sent me straight into a sugar-induced coma.

I kid.

But seriously-

it was gooooood.

(Subject change)

O lost his 2nd tooth this week.

Check out this snaggley cuteness:

and here's a look at all 3 coloring a birthday card for my Dad.

Happy Birthday Pops!

We love you!

Also tried out a couple more recipes from my board.

For supper Saturday night, we had chicken taco chili-

this pretty much required me to open several cans, dump the contents into my crockpot, put a few chicken breasts on top, and then go and play with my kiddos for 4 hours. About 30 minutes before we were ready to eat, I shredded the chicken with a couple of forks and bada-bing, bada-boom.

Dinner was served.

This one gets an A-plusssss because my kids ate it too.

Thanks again Pinterest.

Source: redsie05.blogspot.com via Mary Kathryn on Pinterest

For Dessert, I made this yumminess:

Source: myellowumbrella.blogspot.com via Mary Kathryn on Pinterest

Sopapilla cheesecake?

Made with crescent rolls?

So easy to put together a 3-year old can do it?

Yes.

Oh heavens yes.

Sheesh was it good.

That's all for today, but I do want to thank God for keeping us safe last night/this morning. Alabama had some rather nasty weather and I truly hope that none of you reading this were affected. Havea safe day my friends!

It happened on a Monday night

We were enjoying a nice evening at home.

Mary Martin was content playing with her crayons,

Oliver was waging war on a galaxy far, far away,

hubs was checking facebook on his phone,

and Eliza played sweetly with her Barbies on the bean bag beside my desk as I did highly important things on Pinterest.

Nice, quiet evening.

Every so often, a giggle here and there from the girls.

The sound of spaceships zooming from the boy.

It came silently.

It came with no warning.

There was no sound,

no bells or whistles to alert us.

Nothing.

Until she stood.

She stood and she walked.

She had to show daddy what her Barbie was wearing because she looked like a princess.

She stood and walked,

and then I saw.

I saw the hint of it, running down her leg.

Did she sit in something?

Is it marker?

They know how I feel about the markers...

What is that?

"Babe, what's on her leg?"

hubs: "I don't know. Where?"

"On the back of her leg. What is that?"

hubs: (looks at her backside) "Oh my GOSH"

"Is it...."

"Could that be...."

"Surely not..."

She's two years old, afterall. Messy accidents of a dreadful nature have been a thing of the past. At least, with her. No way that's, ummm...

hubs: "It's POO"

"What?"

hubs: "It's total doo-doo!"

"But how, .....where was she...."

"WHERE WAS SHE?"

I jumped up, remembering that she'd been so content playing in the bean bag seat for quite some time. It's on her leg! If it's on her leg, then....

ohdearohdearohdear...

I looked down.

It couldn't be,

simply could.not.be.

I'd been sitting right beside her in my chair for the past 20 minutes.

But sure enough,

there it was.

Poo.

Poo.All.Over.

Poo everywhere.

Smeared into our beloved Star Wars bean bag.

Smeared into a sweet innocent pillow.

POO.

Mounds of it.

The poor girl never made a sound, just kept talking in her best soprano voice to her Barbies. Singing and talking and singing and talking, and all the while, lounging in the poo.

Steady yourself friends,

because you KNOW I took a picture.

How could I not?

(I did, however, shift the pillow to cover the worst of it.)

Avert your eyes if you're of the weak-stomached variety.

It's one of those times when, after the discovery of 3 scoops of chocolate didley-doo, ya just have to take a deep breath (in cleaner air, of course) and laugh.

We not only had to say goodbye to the bean bag and the pillow, but the purple fairy tutu as well. Never before has a garment seen such destruction my friends. There was no saving it.

It was too far gone.

Thank goodness I'd taken these pics of her in it just a few days prior.

Memories of sweeter days.

Cleaner days...

And, as if a bean bag, a pillow, and a purple fairy tutu weren't enough, E had decided to give her tutu a little umph right before settling into her poop spot. A lovely little pink tutu also fell victim to the poo.

Now you see why we couldn't immediately see it?

It was all up in them tutu's.

All up IN THEM.

The hubs and I jumped into action, not wanting to waste a single minute. He whisked the poo poo princess outside where he proceeded to strip her and begin the task of removing said poo from each of her crevices.

I concluded that the bean bag and pillow were total losses,

so I helped hubs by taking pictures of him removing said poo from E's crevices.

Once our princess had been thoroughly cleaned, scrubbed, rinsed, and repeated, we pajama'd her up and put her to bed. I held the door open as hubs carried all other traces of said poo straight to the curb where we knew it would be picked up in a few days when the rubbish truck (or whatever it's called- it's not the garbage truck, but the curbside stuff truck) would, unfortunately, have the task of tossing it in.

But, guess what?

Even ending there, we've got one heckuva story to embarrass our little E until she's 40,

but it doesn't end there.

Nope.

You see, I thought it'd be funny to commemorate the curbside poo cast-offs in my Project Life album, so the next morning as O and I left for school, I snapped this pic: 

It was a Tuesday morning,

the day after the great poo debacle.

Not the day that the rubbish-or-whatever-you-call-it truck comes.

Are you following?

It should have been there when we came home,

but it wasn't.

And no truck came.

Meaning-

someone passed by in their car and thought,

"Whoa! There's a free Star Wars bean bag and a totally rad black and white pillow! I can't believe someone is getting rid of that!

I'll take it!"

My friends,

those are the famous last words of some poor soul out there who not only threw a couple of unwanted items into the back of their car,

but a couple scoops of straight up chocolate didley-doo as well.

The moral of this story?

"Check for POO before you take it with you"