natural parenting

Three kids. Oh. Wow. We have to adjust and adapt. Lots of this lately: Baby wakes up and has wet a little through onto the bed. Spit up. On me. The bed. I remove his diaper and think–where’s a clean one–while I’m fumbling for it, his lovely water fountain of pee erupts like a happy geyser. Me wet. Bed wet. Pillows wet. Still fumbling for a clean diaper. Cursing my glasses as I can’t find them. Get new diaper. Before I get it on, the churning of the poo begins and then me, bed, pillow (wet), clean diaper, and freshly awakened husband sprayed by a hose of poop. Then things like this happen. Big kids in tub with me and baby. SuperBoy decides to dump water on his sister who in turn decides to practice her swimming kicks–in his face. They’re both crying, the baby in my arms is trying desperately to get away from me, scooting scootching toward them, the fight, the thrill, the fray. I’m hollering for AA to come get the baby so I can deal with the big kids. When we do all get out of the tub, dripping in annoyance with each other, and I put her on the toilet, she promptly forgets her head is her center of gravity and falls off. Splat. Right onto her head by way of a stool catching the corner of her temple. Screaming. Everyone.  So you could say it’s a little busier around here. We’re still determined to be as crunchy, natural, odd-ball as possible. Despite…