why i'm happy to leave my girls behind

Read the excerpt from my latest letter to my sister and my college girlfriends in LA and you'll know:

i just bought my tickets for the weekend!! i'm
coming in Friday night, and leaving Monday night.
that is a four day holiday for me, child free!!!

and let me give you a little sample of my evening and
why (other than the obvious of visiting you) i'm so
extatic about leaving the chickens behind...

after a day of whining, it was time to get the
chickens to bed. i put millie in the bath only to
find as i took off her pants a diaper filled with poop
that had been there a while... i guess not enough to
make me notice and change her, but enough to rub her
little bottom raw. fortunately she was still happy
to sit in the bath. older sister came into the
bathroom but didn't quite make it to the potty so with
pee running down her legs i notice she has a similar
rash. so i wash her legs while keeping millie from
smashing her fingers for the second time on the toilet
seat (which brett has yet to put the safety lock on of
course). now for some reason they are hyped up and
naked running around their bedroom so i cannot get any
clothes on anyone... and i'm praying that the baby
doesn't pee all over the floor. i call to the helpful
husband and he walks in on the phone just as the girls
run smack into each other and smash into each other's
forheads causing them both to reel backwards and burst
into tears. so i'm trying to comfort them both,
assess damage to their brains, and tell brett that i
cannot talk to whoever it is on the phone. it is my
mother.

brett gets the baby dressed while i try and get
penelope to put medicine on her rash and in doing so
bribe her with ice cream. so we all go to have ice
cream (and warm apple pie that i made earlier and
consequently ate a huge piece... there goes THAT work
out). in trying to get penelope back to bed she
refuses to go and of course starts to fight with me
which results in a time out. she doesn't want to go
to this time out so i have to carry her to the spot
and hold the door closed so she can't escape her
punishment while listening to her wail and bang on the
door. fun stuff.

finally while brett brushes penelope's teeth i put
millie down. she nurses herself to sleep and penelope
is finally settled in her own bed on the top bunk. i
am just about to leave when i hear her start to wimper
and i think she is complaining that i'm leaving....
but she coughs and suddenly i can hear a huge SPLAT
when the entire contents of her stomach (and that
recently ingested ice cream) come flying back out on
her bed. why is it that kids ONLY throw up in bed and
only all over their own (long curly tangly) hair? oh,
and the sheets, comforter, pillow, pajamas... so i
call for reinforcements and brett comes over and the
vomit stench hits him before he even ENTERS the room.
but he dutifully starts whipping the sheets off the
bed and i start peeling soggy layers of pajamas off
penelope who is wailing miserably. she gags and barfs
some more, causing brett to freak out that she is
going to get it all over---too late for that, buddy.
we don't do well in panic situations, to put it
mildly. brett is trying to get me to take her to the
bathroom while i have visions of a trail of vomit from
the bedroom to the bathroom. better to stay put and
just get it all in a towel is my theory. while i'm
trying to wipe penelope off the baby wakes up and
starts crying. at first i think it is because of all
the noise, of course... but when i go to comfort her i
realize her HAIR is all wet... and she was not woken
up by the NOISE, but by the VOMIT that came through
her sister's mattress and dripped on her head!! poor
little secondborn. at least her sister wasn't
sleeping beside her and and didn't projectile vomit
all over her little face. i am grateful for that. so
is millie, i'm sure.

so, two and a half hours after i first attempted to
put them to sleep, they are sleeping...

so you see, i really am looking forward to my little
hiatus away from those lovely gals.

miss you!
joy