Daddy's little girl

"Who wants to come with Daddy?" This question is usually met with an underwhelming response from my children. Sometimes, Nina will want to come with me but every time we get as far as the van (usually not even that far) she starts crying because, "me miss mommy". So I send her back in and go and do my errands alone. But today was different. We got to the van. I waited for the ritual to kick in. It didn't, so I opened the door and, with mounting surprise, watched her get in, and then was able to buckle her in with no complaints. My heart lifted.

What a nice little story. But you know what? That's really not a very interesting story. Sorry about that. You know what is interesting? A three year old overdosing on vitamins.

OK, ODing may be just a bit of an exaggeration but all Nina did was dig into her grandma's purse, fish out and consume 3 pieces of gum before finding the vitamins and downing a handful. What the hell is it about kids that I am able to make light of a potentially dangerous event (see yesterday too). Anyway, for whatever reason her little snack affected her bowel movements all afternoon. Now, I'm sure you want to hear all the details of how exactly her BMs were affected but that is gross. You should really get a hobby or something. Or at least get a different hobby. Anyway, Jackie likened her bowel movements to those of a tortured 70 year old man. Yes, I am going to ask the obvious question, how the hell does she know what the BMs of a septuagenarian sound like? If you are waiting for the answer then you need to read this paragraph over again starting at the point where I mention that if the details of this sort of thing interest you it is time to take a good long look at your life choices so far and consider some changes.

Nina's little walkabout

Let me recount to you a story that my wife told me when I got home from work today. It is a horrifiying story from the prospective of a paranoid parent so if you are squeamish at all about that sort of thing then I suggest that you close your browser window, turn your computer off, and spend the rest of your life hiding from the world in the closet.

Here is the story, as I remember it being told to me by my Jackie in her words:
This conversation happened at our front door.
"After you left this morning (about 6:30) Nina and I fell back asleep (Nina usually crawls into bed with us at some point during the night and last night was no exception). For a while. And I was awakened to this sound (She taps lightly on the screen door) . It was Nina. She was outside. She went to get something from the van (I started to really get squeamish at this point because we live on a busy street and the van was parked on that busy street). And she came back because she couldn't get in the van."

Nina is three. She was outside by herself. Out of our yard. I can't even relate to you how much I don't want to think about all the alternative outcomes to that situation. What if she had seen a dog, or a freakin' cat?!?! She would have been gone and I would have received a frantic phone call from Jackie crying and blubbering and I would be freaking out cause I wouldn't be able to understand her and....Ok Ok I must purge this thought from my brain.

I think from now on I will lock the deadbolt on my way out. And tie Nina up. Until she is 25. Then I will be able to sleep again. Child services would understand.

First of Many?

Welcome to the Quantz Family Diary. If you are reading this it probably means you have some vested interest in our children, and so you should - they are awesome. So awesome that their exploits need to be documented for all (I'm looking at you inhabitants of Planet Earth) to read/hear/view. Please stop by regularly for funny stories involving the Spruce Grove Quantz's (do I put an apostrophe in there or not? it looks dumb if there isn't one).