The Living Room

The view from the loft...
And from the floor.

And the best part is, it really looks like this!;) The kids' toys stay upstairs!

Giveaway Winner!

Amy Cate, you are a winner (lucky number 24 - random number generator)! Contact Mary Grace and choose (if you can) any one piece of jewelry!

The Kids' (Huge) Room!

"I Picked This Because it Reminded Me of You,"

Papa Bear said as he walked through the door. "Cause you can be a little prickly, but you're pretty and you smell good."

And then I punched him cause I was feeling a little prickly.

The View from the Loft

I'm going to take my sweet time showing off pictures of the townhouse.

Why?

Because I can.

Because I don't have time to post anything worthwhile this week.

And because I'd rather not photograph a room until it's been unpacked, and I still have more unpacking to do.

Anyway, here is one of the views from the guest loft.

The t.v. room!

This room doubles as a convertible playroom because the ottoman, bench, and closet all serve as toy storage.

How cool is that?!

By the way, don't you just love the brick? All of the homes in my old neighborhoods (growing up) were brick, and I have such a soft spot for it.

Seriously, get ready for way too many photos of kids standing in front of brick walls!

That's it for now. Time for more unpacking!

What's left?

Loft

T.V. Room
Kids' Room

Kids' Bath

Living room

Kitchen

Master Bed and Bath

Garage

Now, If You Stay at My House

And if you don't mind climbing a ladder...

We'll put you up (literally) in our loft/guest room.

Please excuse the hideous comforter. Papa Bear is extremely attached to this blanket (which he bought overseas), and I suggested that it might go perfectly in our blue loft. We actually have a pretty duvet cover that will take it's place soon, but I'm crossing my fingers that Mr. Wolf might decide to hang out up there for good.

You won't have a lot of privacy (or easy bathroom access), but we will supply you with microwave popcorn and snacks that you can munch as you enjoy a fantastic view of the mountains.

I'm now taking reservations for the ski season.

See y'all soon!

;)

Unbelievably Blessed

While packing up our trailer I had a flashback of a conversation I had with Papa Bear, in the first week of our marriage, that caused him to exclaim, "Well, I would rather live in this tiny loft than in the biggest trailer!"

And I had to laugh. Well, Papa Bear, how would you feel about five kids, and a few extras, in a small trailer?

We tend to think that we're some of God's favorite people cause we really appreciate a good joke!

But the truth is, neither one of us are opposed to moving back to a trailer (or any other humble space) if it turns out to be in God's plan. We no longer see blessing the way we used to, and we've been truly happy in the tiny space that God provided.

Even down to the last lunch.

And without all of our junk, it doesn't even look that small!

I'm humbled that God would offer us something "better," but as I sit here today (in more space than I really need) I realize that better doesn't make me feel more blessed. My truest blessings are my salvation, my marriage, and my five healthy children. Everything else is just icing on an already unbelievably sweet life.

But yes, pictures and video of the latest icing are coming very soon!

I Love Costume Jewelry Even When I'm Not Tired.

It's true, I'm tired.

Thanks for all the well wishes on the move. Everything is going smoothly, I'm just awed by all the junk we were able to squeeze into this tiny place. Truly, I thought we had gone much more bare bones than we actually had. Although, the stuff we use is pretty basic and simple.

Whatever.

What's even more true (back to the title of this post) is that I love costume jewelry. In fact, the only piece of jewelry I own that is not costume (besides a couple of family pieces) is my wedding ring (and that was $97.95 at Wal Mart). I love being girly and wearing pretty things, but I simply cannot have a good time if I'm spending money that would be better spent elsewhere.

It's a blessing.

And a curse.

But y'all, my love of costume jewelry grew into an over-sized obsession last week as I perused one of the best little Etsy shops on the web (which I found because I was Googling myself - how fun is that?!).

It doesn't hurt that the designer is in Australia (over which I also have a slight obsession).

But just look at these pieces and tell me that you wouldn't have spent half-an-hour pointing at the computer screen and communicating to your hubby in intelligent phrases such as, "I like that. Oh, and that. And Oh, I really like that!"

Good news is that you might be able to leave your hubby out of it completely, cause Mary Grace has agreed to give away a piece of jewelry (any piece!) to one lucky Kingdom Twindom reader!

You can't hear me, cause this is the internet and all, but I'm totally squealing right now!

The rules are pretty standard, but humor me and read them all.

1) Go to Mary Grace's Etsy and look around for a bit. Then come back here and comment on this post, letting me know which piece you'd like to win.

2) If you subscribe to this blog, let me know (in a separate comment). That fact alone will enter you a second time.

3) If you commented on any of last week's posts, let me know (in a separate comment). That will earn you a third entry!

4) Blog and or Tweet about this contest (and come back here and tell me in separate comments) and you could earn a fourth and fifth entry!

I guess that's it for now. Y'all have fun! I'm going to go get back to cleaning and unpacking. I'll announce the winner on Friday the 31st!


P.S. Mary Grace offers giveaways on her blog as well! So be sure to check in with her for more chances to win!

7 Quick Takes - Moving Day

1. I rave about Jen from time-to-time on this blog, but I really do feel a special (and possibly even unnatural) attachment to her and her blog. I feel absolutely certain (versus kinda certain with many other bloggers) that we would be fast friends in real life. So when she suggested, on her blog, that this Friday would be a good day to participate in her weekly meme, I obeyed (considering it's moving day here at chez Valente and life is probably too hectic for me to write a real post).

2. Despite the loathing I feel for change, especially as it pertains to moving, I am excited about having more space. Our kids will still share one big room, but because we will have a separate play room in the new house, we're going to try and fit a sleeper sofa in their sleeping room. This way it will be possible to fit our whole family in one room so that we can give our master bedroom to any guests (and we have a loft area for guests too). I'm very excited about this opportunity to be a blessing, and I'm hoping God will send people our way.

3. One thing I am dreading about the new place is having bathrooms with good lighting. Right now we have one little bathroom with ridiculous track lighting. And if you are 5'3" - 5' 10" tall you simply cannot see yourself in my bathroom mirror. Silver lining, this has been a huge blessing and has greatly inspired me to tone down the vanity and speed up my bathroom routines!

4. While speedily carrying out my nightly bathroom routine, I've discovered that one should never blow their nose before spitting out their mouth wash.

5. I'm making pizza tonight (for the guys who are helping us move). But I haven't even started the dough (or checked to make sure I have all the ingredients). And we really are moving today; but I've yet to pack a single box. And I'm not sure why, but I'm not worried.

6. Papa Bear and I watched The Visitor last night. I loved it, but I couldn't sleep because I was so upset. I definitely have an "open door policy," and I have a hard time thinking about the Statue of Liberty turning away those who are yearning to break free. There are, however, quite a few ungrateful Americans that I would happily ship to other shores.

7. I am super excited about a giveaway that I have planned for Monday! Check back for the details.

I Think I Love You (So What am I So Afraid Of)

Cute, Not So Cute

Cute!
Not so cute.

OK, she's still cute, but you know what I mean. At four years old the thumb has completely lost its charm. That is, it has completely lost its charm for me. As far as Tiny Dancer is concerned, her thumb is her best friend.

Do you have a thumb sucker? What kind of cruel, ridiculous, or possibly even remarkably effective things did you try when it was time to make him/her stop sucking?

I really want to know.

I mean, I really want to know.

In fact, I want to know so badly that I'm willing to offer an incentive in exchange for your advice.

Also, I'm curious, for those of you who do not have thumb suckers (I have one and I'm obviously fighting with a second), did they take a pacifier or nothing at all? I recently heard about a woman who encouraged thumb sucking because she wanted her children to self-sooth. Did any of you try that, and did you regret it when it was time to break them of the habit?

Thumbs?

Pacifiers?

Neither?

I want to hear from you all.

And after you comment (and if you feel you have nothing to contribute and choose not to comment), go back and click "Like" by the comments you like best. The commenter with the most votes will win a brand new copy of October Sky!

Just cause it's Wednesday, and I need a boost.

Tuesday as Still Life

We Still Laugh

Whenever I post on a topic as serious as yesterday's, I feel the need to remind you that we are indeed a happy bunch. And we definitely laugh more than we cry.

Well, I do anyway. Certain whiny three-year-olds really need to work on that.

But I laughed to myself, entering a word verification on one of your blogs, when the thought briefly crossed my mind, "Is that a real word? OH! What if they're all real words my vocabulary just stinks!?"



And I chuckled when Tiny Dancer ran up to me and said, "Mama, 'Rucco' starts with 'R,' right?"

"What?"

"Rucco."

"Ummm, I don't know what you are talking about."

"Rrrrr, Rrrrrr, RUCCO!"

"Well, 'Rucco' would start with 'R,' that's really good, but I don't think (again questioning my vocabulary) that 'Rucco' is a word."

"Oh, Mama," she giggled as she ran away.

Seriously, is "Rucco" a word!?



I didn't even try to contain my laughter when Cuddle Bug sprinted in from the backyard and urgently yelled, "MAMA, can I POOP in the yard?"

"NO!" I yelled. "Did you poop in the yard?"

"No," she replied, dancing around.

"Well no, only dogs poop in the yard (I wish that were true)."

"Oh," she said as she ran down the hall to the bathroom. "And I'm not a dog, right?"

"Yeah, that's right," I answered through hysterical tears. "You're not a dog."

Like a Moth to the Flame

Last night, for a few minutes before bedtime, I sat in a darkened room (all too consumed by the details of my day). One light burned brightly in my kitchen ceiling, and a moth circled madly around it.

It's not as if I've never seen a moth meet his maker, or been morbidly entertained by the crackling of a bug zapper. But there was something in this moment that God wanted me to witness. And I continued to watch.

The dizzy moth drew up slowly within the beam and momentarily disappeared inside the fixture. After a second or two he made his escape, like a rocket reentering the atmosphere, grateful to have survived a death by fire. I looked on as he continued, swirling and diving as if controlled by a force other than his own mind, plunging down to safety and then pulling fiercely back into the radiating rays.

Each time he would enter the fixture he would stay a second longer. I found myself cheering him on, wondering how his fragile wings were withstanding the intense heat of the 75 watt bulb.

"Come on, you can do it," I whispered as he lingered on his fourth visit to the seventh circle of hell.

But he couldn't do it.

I sat dumbfounded, wondering if he had tried to escape that last time. After all, I had watched him do it three times before. I knew it was possible. Had he simply grown tired, or did the warmth of the bulb seduce him until the very moment that it burned him alive?

"Why did you want me to see that?" I thought, feeling much more despair than I would normally allow over the destruction of a household pest.

God clearly spoke to my heart, "Because I'm reminding you how to pray."

And He brought to my mind the verses I had so fervently prayed over Papa Bear while the forces of Hell worked, night and day, to destroy his soul.

Proverbs 5

My son, pay attention to my wisdom, listen well to my words of insight, that you may maintain discretion and your lips may preserve knowledge. For the lips of an adulteress drip honey, and her speech is smoother than oil; but in the end she is bitter as gall, sharp as a double-edged sword. Her feet go down to death; her steps lead straight to the grave. She gives no thought to the way of life; her paths are crooked, but she knows it not.

Now then, my sons, listen to me; do not turn aside from what I say. Keep to a path far from her, do not go near the door of her house, lest you give your best strength to others and your years to one who is cruel, lest strangers feast on your wealth and your toil enrich another man's house. At the end of your life you will groan, when your flesh and body are spent. You will say, "How I hated discipline! How my heart spurned correction! I would not obey my teachers or listen to my instructors. I have come to the brink of utter ruin in the midst of the whole assembly."

Drink water from your own cistern, running water from your own well. Should your springs overflow in the streets, your streams of water in the public squares? Let them be yours alone, never to be shared with strangers. May your fountain be blessed, and may you rejoice in the wife of your youth. A loving doe, a graceful deer— may her breasts satisfy you always, may you ever be captivated by her love. Why be captivated, my son, by an adulteress? Why embrace the bosom of another man's wife?

For a man's ways are in full view of the LORD, and he examines all his paths. The evil deeds of a wicked man ensnare him; the cords of his sin hold him fast. He will die for lack of discipline, led astray by his own great folly.

Proverbs 4:3-8

When I was a boy in my father's house, still tender, and an only child of my mother, he taught me and said, "Lay hold of my words with all your heart; keep my commands and you will live. Get wisdom, get understanding; do not forget my words or swerve from them. Do not forsake wisdom, and she will protect you; love her, and she will watch over you. Wisdom is supreme; therefore get wisdom. Though it cost all you have, get understanding. Esteem her, and she will exalt you; embrace her, and she will honor you.


The Proverbs 4 reference reminds me of an old preachers' joke (the kind with a little truth in it) that says, "My wife sounds like the Holy Spirit and the Holy Spirit sounds like my wife."

I do not see it as coincidence that wisdom is written as a woman. As Christian wives we have a responsibility to uplift and protect our husband's spirits, in prayer. And lest our voices become confused with the wayward woman's, we should treat even the most insignificant conversation as an opportunity to speak the [few, purposed, anointed] words that bring life.

Since I first heard from El and began to join her in prayer for her husband, I have heard from three more wives in similar situations in their marriages. To prevent my becoming overwhelmed by this, God has chosen to remind me who the real victims are in these terrible times.

I was not the victim when my husband left our marriage; he was. Because I saw him as the victim, and prayed for him as such, God snatched him from the fire before it was able to consume him. I believe this with all my heart.

Your marriage might not be perfect, and you might need improvement as a wife (don't we all), but if your husband has strayed, the baseline reason is spiritual. For whatever reason, he was left unprotected and unaccountable, and in a moment of insecurity and weakness, he followed the seductive warmth of a flame (whether that flame be another woman, pornography, drugs, or anything else that would seek to separate his soul from God). Before he knew it that flame had engulfed him, and it now threatens to burn him alive.

For the lips of an adulteress drip honey, and her speech is smoother than oil; but in the end she is bitter as gall, sharp as a double-edged sword. Her feet go down to death; her steps lead straight to the grave. She gives no thought to the way of life; her paths are crooked, but she knows it not.

I'm tempted to apologize for the seriousness of this post, but I'm not going to do it. I fully believe that someone out there needs to hear these words, and she needs to be reminded how to pray. And I'm reminded that this principle of seduction and destruction is not only relevant to men and husbands (especially in the society we live in today). Please stay close to Jesus, ladies, it is the only way to avoid the flame!

Goin' on a Bear Hunt

A Baby Bear hunt, that is.

What Do You Think?

So, my mama decided to cut my hair.

I told her I was only three and a half months old, and that I couldn't guarantee much head control; but, alas, she insisted.

When she first came up with the idea I said, "Huh?!?"

Then I saw those scissors and I was like, "Whoa there Mama!"

But end the end I was really glad she did it.

So what do you think?

Because We're Not

When a Target gift card arrived from Heather on our anniversary, I had to laugh and remark, "Wow, I feel like some kind of celebrity!" followed shortly by, "Lets buy that thing that we wanted for the new place that I said we couldn't afford."

But the truth is, even though a lot more people read this blog daily than did one year ago (which is still a relatively small number of people), I am very much aware of the fact that I am not now, nor will I ever be, a celebrity. After all, anyone can (and should) start a blog. Anyone can get their kids dressed up in their best clothes (even though they might spend much more time in their pajamas) and use Photobucket to create a cute header. Anyone can share their story with the world through the magic of the internet. And everyone has a story.

I don't think we're special.

Or do I?

When I started this blog I never intended to use it as a platform for our shortcomings. Like most family blogs, I simply wanted my own piece of the world wide web on which I could scrapbook the daily milestones of my four beautiful babies. And I hoped that I could figure out the magic of affiliate marketing enough to earn a little spending money (which, in case you're curious, has yet to actually happen). But over the months I began to feel a call to something more, something far less flattering and far more eternal.

And every time I have borne my soul in obedience to that call, the return has been incredible. Even still, whenever I post about our past I feel my pride rising up and screaming, "Make sure they know you're perfect now!"

Which we're not.

At all.

In fact, just last night I felt the need to apologize to Papa Bear, through tears, for being disrespectful to him that day.

And a few weeks ago we had a not so similar conversation where I said, "I'm so sorry I've been such a brat toward you this week."

"What do you mean?" he replied.

"Oh, you mean I wasn't saying all those things out-loud? Well, at least that shows some sign of improvement."


I've recently, and in person not via blogland, witnessed another marriage bite the dust. While this makes me extremely sad, it also compels me to keep on telling our story.

Because we're more in love that the average couple?

Because we're less susceptible to temptation than the average couple?

Because we're wiser than the average couple?

No, but because we're not. Because the beauty we choose to display on this blog has truly sprung from ashes. And because we are 100% certain that if God could save our marriage, there is no marriage that He cannot save.

And we want you to follow this blog, we want you to share us with your friends, we want to be an encouragement to as many people as we can, and we want to point them all to our Savior.

After all He has done for us, it's really the very least we could do.

But we also want to get to know you personally. So continue emailing us with your needs and struggles (Papa Bear answers blog e-mails too), or to let us know that you're praying for us. And follow our new prayer project on Twitter (or simply use the tag #P4M) so you can tweet (we will ReTweet) your marriage's needs while lifting other marriages high in prayer.

The church might not look like it used to (or even like it should), but it's still out there. We see it everyday through people like you, and we hope that you see it in us.

What's My Motivation?

There are four four year olds and two almost three year olds splashing around in my yard right now.

Which should be a recipe for fun!

But five minutes after I had finished slathering the last child with sunscreen, some of them were already to come inside.

"I'm cold."

"I'm hot."

"She's splashing me!"

Grrrrr...

So, when Tiny Dancer came inside just now, I gave her the evil eye and said, "Gooooo back outside!"

She responded, "Or else you won't paint my nails?"

And I answered, "Yes, or else I may never paint your nails again."


I think my summertime discipline might be suffering a little bit.

Trick Question

OK, so I didn't offer a prize for yesterday's "contest" because I knew it wasn't a fair question. I know I've mentioned Papa Bear and the ridiculous nicknames that he comes up with for our kids, but you'd really have to have been paying attention to remember that.

His actual response was "B".

But it made us smile from ear-to-ear that so many people were hoping the answer was "C" or "D"! Where were all of you when I was walking around pregnant with Baby Bear (dragging four toddlers in tow)? Because we definitely received more condescension than acclamation.

And truthfully, it was a trick question, considering the conversation we had just had a few nights before.

"I just don't know what to tell people!" Papa Bear exclaimed.

"About what?"

"Well, everyone wants to know if we're done having kids."

"Oh," I laughed. "Well what have you been telling them?"

"I just say that it seems like a shame to stop now."

"What?"

"Yeah, now that we're finally getting the hang of it!"

When Papa Bear Saw These Photos, He Said:

a) "Awww, how cute!"

b) "Look at His Royal Cuteness!"

c) "We really shouldn't stop having kids."

d) a and c

No prizes, just bragging rights. But give it your best shot. Oh, and feel free to tell me what you said when you saw all that Baby Bear cuteness. I know, it's almost too much to handle!;)

But speaking of prizes, I do have something for my coolest reader. She saved my new contest from being an abysmal failure in it's first run by, ummm, actually entering it!

Thank you Stormy! I hope that you and your kid sister will thoroughly enjoy your prize!

Which is...

an autographed copy of "Sing Along with the Weather Dude" the book and CD set!! I love anything that combines learning with music, so I'm super excited to offer this prize. But I'm especially excited because The Weather Dude is my fabulous uncle, meteorologist Nick Walker. The next time you're watching The Weather Channel, be sure to give him a big howdy wave through the t.v. screen for me, OK! I'm sure he'll appreciate it. And for those of you who didn't win (or enter) be sure to check out The Weather Dude's site, a portion of the proceeds from his sales goes to help victims of natural disasters around the world!

Let me know where to mail your prize, Stormy, and if there is anything special you'd like Uncle Nick to write in the inscription.

Who Did You Want to be When You Grew Up?

I was piling my hair up on my head and tying it with my favorite silk scarf. Cuddle Bug stood behind me, looking on in awe.

"Mama, you're like a princess!" she gushed. "Princess Tylenol!"

"Oh, honey, that's sweet. But I'm Princess Advil."



On Sunday afternoon, while at McDonald's, I spotted a woman with a confused look on her face. I'm not sure if she was confused, or if her face had just been frozen that way.

Like maybe she was having a really rough day and one of her kids ran up and hit her in the back of the head.

But, I took note of the fact that there was really no other way to describe this particular woman (or at least that "confused" was her most defining characteristic), and I had to laugh at the conversation that immediately played in my head.

Yes, Em, I still fantasize ridiculous dialog, all the time actually.

"Oh my goodness, are those two sets of twins?"

"I think so, that's their mother over there with the baby."

"Where?"

"Over there, see? The woman with the confused look on her face."

"Oooohhh, I see her now."

What Happened Next?

I am loving my new comment feature. If you haven't tried it yet (ahem, on this blog), maybe today could be the day! It's so interactive and I enjoy being able to reply to your comments individually (and it's helped me keep up with Twitter too).

By the way, if you ask me a question in the comments section (and you care about knowing the answer), you should really check back because I will probably answer you there.

That is, unless I decide to answer you here, which is what I am doing right now.

Yesterday, Stephanie asked what I would write when I'd send letters to the Marines who were fighting alongside my fiance.

Well, Stephanie, probably nothing very important. I just reread one particular letter in which I talked about CNN and asked them if they thought Saddam was dead (there must have just been a bombing).

I wrote and sent stories, poetry, and devotionals; but mostly, I just told them how proud I was of them, over and over again (and sent deodorant, sunscreen, cigarettes and mouthwash).

I love me a Marine; and, quite frankly, I miss being a military wife.

Stephanie also asked if anyone was angry that we just ran off and got married.

Sigh.

I really try to block that part out. I thought the whole thing was incredibly romantic, and the looming guilt kinda tends to ruin the memory for me. But yes, there were repercussions.

To be fair to us, we didn't "run off". Papa Bear asked for my dad's blessing, and my parents knew we would be getting married any day. They just didn't know exactly when or exactly where.

To us: romantic and exciting.

To them: unnecessary and insulting.

But I was too caught up in the whirlwind to realize I was hurting anyone. In fact, I didn't really notice at all until about a month later.

Oh, there you are hindsight! Good grief I can see you clearly!



Tiffany wants to know what happened next, and yeah, I guess there is quite a gap between our elopement and the start of this blog (and that's assuming you've even read back to the beginning of this blog -which I wouldn't necessarily recommend).

Well, we spent two weeks together as man and wife before he flew back to Camp Lejeune, alone. We've both decided that this was the first monumental mistake of our married life. But he only had one year left in his four year service, and he already knew he would be spending a large part of that year in Afghanistan. I didn't know anyone in North Carolina, and he thought it would be too difficult for me to relocate there, just to be left alone.

I flew out to visit him twice (once for the Marine Corps Ball) before he left for Afghanistan. We stayed in seedy Jacksonville motels so that we could afford the two-week stays; but, nonetheless, those trips still hold some of my all-time favorite memories.

The week after he returned from Afghanistan we celebrated with a formal, planned, renewal ceremony.

It was beautiful, but I also regret renewing our vows so soon. Cause as it turned out, we really could have used that a few years later.

We got pregnant right after our renewal, we were thrilled, and you can probably gather the rest from the scattered bits on this blog.

And I guess that's it! But I'll be back soon with some brand spankin' new pics of the Baby Bear.

We Always Sing

A few nights ago, I was loading the dryer while Papa Bear was getting into the shower. Through the bathroom door I could hear him singing.

He was singing about his sunburn.

"Super freak crisp, super crisp, I'm super crispy."

Now, as funny as that might be, it's not unusual. There is a lot of singing in this house. Our life is a veritable, and pretty bad, musical (we especially love the homage to the 80's and early 90's). When face-to-face with a picky eater, I am known to break-out into a chorus of, "Beat Eat it. Just eat it. Open up your mouth and eat it."

And the kids sing too, all day long. Bay Bit's most famous ballad is a heartwarming medley of Jesus Loves Me and The ABC Song.

But still, Papa Bear's shower song interested me, and I cracked the bathroom door.

"Did you know I was out here?" I interrupted.

"No," he laughed.

"You were just singing Super Crisp for your own benefit?"

"Yeah, why? I always sing," he insisted.

"Well, yeah, I know." And then I brilliantly concluded, "I'm just never around you when I'm not there."

Fall on Your Knees

I'm not sure how many of you know El from Profoundly Seth, probably many of you. I have only recently met her, but just in time to ride an incredibly painful wave of grief alongside her and her children.

We all have things that, when we hear of them, we are especially burdened over.

A marriage shattered by adultery

A lonely (pregnant) spouse, waiting on a miracle from God

Those are mine.

If they're yours, would you please fall on your knees for Seth's family right now?

God wants to fix this.

And please pray extra protection over the already high-risk babe that she is carrying in her womb.

When She Was Good She Was Very, Very Good

And when she was bad.

OH. MY. GOSH!

Potty-training Bay Bit was a breeze, even easier than her older sisters. She literally had it down in two days.

Or so I thought.

Because apparently, Bay Bit only knows how to pee in our potty, and is absolutely terrified of everyone else's.

I was warned by Papa Bear and Grandma, who both attempted to take her to the potty over Fourth of July weekend, but I really didn't see this coming.

If I'd had a cell phone, I might have called CPS on myself.

We were at the hospital again on Sunday afternoon for the prescribed wound check. And I'd just like to point out that driving an hour just for a second-day check-up makes us very good parents. Wouldn't you agree?

OK, moving on.

While at the hospital I discovered a colorful adobe wall, and I just had to spend a few minutes snapping pictures of my kiddos in front of it. About the same time I snapped this photo,

Bay Bit announced that she had to pee.

Papa Bear grabbed her by the hand and took off running. Cuddle Bug realized that she had to go too, and she followed shortly behind them. I yelled to Lil Prince and Tiny Dancer to, "Hold up!" as I adjusted Baby Bear's sling, packed up the camera and grabbed the diaper bag.

As I raced around the corner I tried to decide in which direction Papa Bear would have looked for a restroom. But then I figured it out. Because Bay Bit was screaming.

I knocked on the door of the men's one stall bathroom, and he opened it with an already frazzled huff.

"I'd better take her," I said as I walked her across the hall, underwear around her ankles, to the the women's bathroom.

I thought it was the automatic flush that was freaking her out, so I grabbed a paper towel and draped it over the censor. Maybe it was the automatic flush, but I was too late to ease her worry.

"Come on Sweetie, it's not scary anymore. Mama fixed it!" And I reached out my hands to help her onto the potty.

She shrieked.

Now, I wish there was some way to express to you the sheer volume of my youngest daughter's scream. She's like a siren, compact and shrill. Lil Prince is loud too, but she definitely takes the cake.

I offered her candy, I peed to show her it was safe, I sang songs, I threatened, I cried, I prayed.

Nothing helped.

She would calm down until I would lift her onto the potty. Then she would stiffen her chubby legs, scream bloody murder and yell, "Pleeeeease! Pleeeeeeeeease!"

"Bay Bit," I whispered. "I think I'm going to lose it!"

I reached up to unlock the door because I was sure someone would be checking on us, and I wanted them to see, first-hand, exactly what was going on.

And I was right, a young woman walked in under the guise of having to pee (like she couldn't hear that the room was occupied)! She took a quick look around and then left with an, "Oh, sorry."

I really thought I might die.

In the end, once my hair looked more like Dolly Parton's than my own, and my mascara was everywhere but my eyelashes, I finally devised a solution. The seat was split in front and I covered the gap with a paper towel. That seemed to interest her so I began covering the rest of the seat.

"You forgot that pawt," she said as she pointed at the tiny hole I had left in the middle.

"But that's where your pee pee goes." I whined, clearly beaten by a three year old.

And with a very concerned look on her tear-stained face, she shook her head 'no'.

I laid down one final towel, and she giggled. I lifted her onto the potty, and she laughed. "I peed! I peed!" she bragged victoriously.

"Yep, you sure did," I sighed.

As we walked down the hall we passed an older couple who had undoubtedly heard the whole horrific ordeal. They watched her bebop behind me and they whispered to each other, "She's so cute!"

"Hmph." I responded as I wiped the sweat from my forehead and adjusted poor little Baby Bear in his sling.

And they laughed the laugh only known to parents who are finished.

When we left the hospital we headed straight for McDonald's. They put gobs of mayonnaise on my chicken sandwich, but I didn't even care. I was due a little comfort food.

We'd left the sippy cups in the car, and when Bay Bit asked for a sip of my water I looked at Papa Bear in horror.

"I don't know if I want you to have any water, "I said, "I cannot have another bathroom adventure with you today."

"Oh," she responded. "Cause then you might lose it?!"

And Papa Bear laughed out-loud.