I like a nice warm shower, just one with a little less pee

Poor Brock.  Poor sweet little Brock.  A few nights ago I was riding his case pretty hard about not whining because I've gotten plenty of it from him lately.  As I stated in a previous entry, the green-eyed monster can be a real bitch and he is most whiny when I'm holding Adrianna.  She can be around (in her jumperoo or sitting on the floor) but if she is in my arms, he whines and cries and makes sure to tell you, "Bwock cwying"  Last night I decided that rather than yell at him to stop whining, I was going to try to have an honest discussion with him.  After a few swats on his hind-end coupled with a few time-outs (one of which lasted 15 minutes), he comes into the living room and says to me, "Bwock done whining now, Momma".  Good.  Now that he was ready to listen, I was ready to talk to him. 

I explained, as best I could, how Mommy has more than enough love for two babies and how special and important he is to Greg and I and how we will always love him no matter what.  He nodded along, said yes in the appropriate spots, he even gave me a hug and said, "I lub you Mommy" when we were done with our discussion.  He even went to bed with barely a fight.  Well, at almost 10pm that night, I was just getting ready to fall aslep when he started to cough.  As history tends to repeat itself, I flew into his room because I could tell by the tone of his cough that he was going to throw up.  Sure enough, he did.  Luckily, we made it into the bathroom first.  When he was finished he was covered in snot, tears & vomit and he (of course) wants nothing more than to snuggle his momma.  After I wiped his sweet little face clean, he looks at me and says, "Bwock not whining no mowa momma".  ::tear::

I went to bed feeling pretty bad thinking that maybe I'd been too hard on the little guy.  The next morning I sat him on the potty (like usual) just before I got him dressed.  My feelings of regret were fading rapidly because he does not like to be woken up (he would much rather wake me up at 5:30am on a Saturday) and he does not like to go pee first thing in the morning.  So, true to form, he was whining and crying and telling me that I'm a "bad girl" and that I need to sit in time-out for 5 minutes.  Apparently I sat him too far back and he did pee.  All over my scrubs.  Minutes before we were supposed to walk out the door.  Brock: 1.  Momma: 0