Good sport

To get Isabella to listen I usually make everything a competition. Isabella go use the potty. Isabella "no". Ok then I'm gonna get in there first. Isabella takes off running to be the first. The magic phrase is "I'm gonna be first". This formula has worked for getting a diaper for Bryce, finishing her dinner, her getting dressed, brushing her teeth, washing hands, picking up toys. Wow I really think I over did it. I may have created an over-competitive youngster. At swimming lessons today the teacher had everyone race from one end of the pool to the other. This was more of a running race rather than a swimming race. The first race Isabella came in first and let everyone know it. Then the second race came. This time a little boy just edged her out. He went up to her and said he had won. Isabella corrected him and said "no actually we tied, good job". On the way home I told her that we don't always win but we always need to be good sports. I said when someone wins we always want to say good job and when we win we should say good race to those that didn't win. At dinner she sort of got my advice. We were racing to see who could put a piece of chicken in our mouth first and Isabella was first. She declared "I won" and then feeding me my own advice followed with "Daddy you need to tell me nice job cause I beat you". I didn't see that one coming.

When Isabella was a baby

When Isabella was a baby she went to school with me and so did her sister Kierda. When I ask her who Kierda is she says 'she's just my sister'. We have welcomed Kierda because she doesn't cost anything. I'm not clear who Kierda's mother is but I have been told I am her father. Not sure how I missed that. When Isabella was a baby she liked roller coasters but she doesn't want to go on them now. When Isabella was a baby she wanted a dog but now she would rather have a cat, however she won't pet either.

It finally happened.......

It may have taken almost 5 years but it finally happened at 10:15 am February 5th 2012.
5 minutes before 10:15am on February 5th 2012.
I was headed to change  Bryce's diaper. I should known something was up, he seemed a little too happy to get his diaper off. I laid him on the changing table and took off his diaper. Boy was his diaper wet. He won't pee for a week I thought. Boy was I wrong and I was caught off guard when the mighty geyser went off. I think some hit the ceiling. Think straight what do I need to do. I must stop the pee but how. Grab a paper towel. That didn't work now it's spraying everywhere. Is there a bucket anywhere? Eew was that my suit coat that just got hit. How much did this kid drink? Why did I put the diaper down to get the paper towel? Will anyone notice if I leave this puddle on the floor? Why do people want to talk to me while I am in crisis mode? Grab a paper towel or zip it.