Renaming my blog

I think I should rename my blog to something like "The Adventures of Gunner's Children--Three cute kids whose dad is serving his third tour in Iraq and whose mother is trying to raise them up to be productive members of society. Read our story as we try to give our mom a run for her money and make our dad laugh while he is gone."

So after a day of changing diapers--BTW, Huggies overnight diapers work great when your kid has diarrhea--Junior seemed to be doing much better.

Abs had an appointment at 2 yesterday so I picked her up after Junior's nap, came prepared to entertain Junior for an hour, and showed up at the clinic. I was an hour late. The receptionist was not nice at all. "I know it is a free appointment but you should call if you aren't going to come." I didn't traipse out to this place with all this crap and all these children to have a rousing good time hanging out for an appointment and not being seen. Geez. Abs started to cry.

So we load everything back up and head home. We get back and even though Junior had just had a snack (the boy could eat a bear most nights for dinner, but Tuesday night he settled for 4 hotdogs with buns, a banana, and the spoiled milk), and was still crying hungry. We were playing in the living room and then I heard a crash and saw Junior rooting around in the pantry. I went over to the gate and Junior had pushed on it so hard that it punched a hole in the drywall and that caused the gate to lose its pressure and swing wide open. Add calling housing to my list of things to do.

Em comes home from Poetry Club and we all hang out for a while, and I talk to Gunner online. He looks good, but is extremely tired. He's having a hard time sleeping more than 3 or 4 hours at a time. I told him "Welcome to my world!". He at least found it somewhat amusing. We miss him.

I spent swim lessons last night chasing Junior. I took his ball, threw it to the top of the ramp (which winds around) and he would run all the way up the ramp to get it, then run all the way back down. This happened a few times and he started to get tired. I did it again, and he looked at it, thought about it, stood in front of the stairs for a bit, then took off. He climbed up the stairs (which was a much much much shorter route), grabbed the ball, and ran down the ramp. He handed me the ball and said "Junior no play". He slept well last night.

Haircut at 9:30. I needed to do something since every time we walk outside the door now, my children see the plant, look at it, and say "Bye Mommy". They think they are funny.