The computer is still not fixed.
But the house is quiet. The kids are asleep, Jeffrey is also napping. I should be, but have a mountain of laundry to get caught up on. And so, I am blogging. Go figure.
Having the computer broken has really given me a lot of time to get things done. I have been deep cleaning, and I am in heaven with the godliness of my house. Because you know, they say cleanliness is next to godliness. It is might fine.
This morning I had quite a scare, though. Keith woke up too early. He said he had to go potty (update on that in a minute). I told him to go ahead and go, and then to go back to bed. He did, and was then quiet. I nestled back down and drifted back to dreamland. Right as I was getting back into the thick of my dream, the doorbell chimed. I wasn't sure if it was actually the doorbell or just a dream. Again the chime. Jeffrey sat straight up. The sudden movement brought me out of my dream state. I looked at the clock. 8:30.
The door bell began ringing like crazy.
The only answer was the echo of the ringing bell. It sounds a lot more poetic written out like that, but it was terrifying.
Jeffrey ran to the door, and there stood Keith.
Shoes on the wrong feet, too short pants, and a short sleeved shirt. Just shivering and grinning from ear to ear.
"Look, Daddy. Look what I have."
He held out his hand proudly, displaying a rock.
Jeffrey had so much shock and frustration, he just nodded and sent Keith in to see me.
"Mommy! Look what I found." he thrust his hand in my face. I wasn't wearing my glasses, so I took his hand and held it up to my face. The shock of cold woke me up like a splash.
"I am saving it to throw down the drain." he said proudly.
I told him to put it into his pocket, and we commenced to have a little chat. We talked about how he is not ever allowed to go outside without letting one of us know where he is.
He is grounded today. I don't know what else to do. That boy is so independent. Sometimes I love his independence, and other times (like this morning) I wish he would stop thinking he was so grown up.
But I am loving the independence in one regard.
I think I can say, he is potty trained. Or well on his way.
It has been a week. I have not had to remind him to go potty (except at preschool when he was having too much fun to bother) all week long. He has been keeping his diaper clean all night, and my laundry is getting less and less. Best story ever. I think if he can go another week like this, he is in for a big celebration!
And hopefully the computer will be fixed today. Keeping my fingers crossed.
Addendum: Right after I hit publish Keith got up from his nap. Which he never really took, he just played in his room the whole time. He was all smiles. He told me he had to go potty and then rushed into the bathroom. A few minutes later he began yelling for me. I ran in, expecting to praise him, and found him pointing to the floor. His undies lay in a crumpled brown heap.
Yup, brown and smelly, and full of crow for me to eat.
Thankfully this occurrence is happening far less than it used to. And soon it may be over. In the meantime, rake me up into a frazzled mess of laundry and a super clean bathroom. One day I will emerge the victor. Just. you. wait.
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