The Maddie Chronicles (written by Robert)

Robert keeps a family journal of all our adventures over the years.  I stumbled across these entries from

February-May 2002 and found them quite entertaining and amusing.  It seems just like yesterday . . .

The Maddie Chronicles

A. Approximately forty-five minutes south of Seaside, OR on the coast is Tillamook, home of the famous dairy products (cheese and ice-creams). It was a Saturday in February. After several weeks of bad weather and isolated weekends, we decided to take a family trip. We did all the usual preparations and then loaded everyone into the minivan. The Oregon coast was beautiful; dense green foliage and sharp evergreen-laden mountain cliffs arrayed the roads on every winding curve. Two-thirds of the way there and several snack bribes later we saw a very pale Madison looking up at us with her half opened glossed over eyes. Out of no where we suddenly hear what has become known as the ‘Sonic Belch’–an explosive boom from the very pits of Hell!  Astonished that such an earth-shattering noise could come out of such a small body, we turned around to witness our little Madison vomiting uncontrollably all over herself, her car sea,t and the car. Over and over the putrid stench permeated the car. We pulled over, emptied a box of wipes in the clean-up process and assessed the damage. Thinking we were almost there and confident that the worst was behind us, I made the executive decision to press on! Mere minutes later, the flood gates re-opened. The pathetic melancholy of her face screamed, “this trip is over”!  We cleaned up again, turned around and slowly made our trip home. As we were approaching the house and contemplating that this trip could not have been worse, we hear Christian from the back of the car exclaim, “I don’t feel very good”. “Yes you do!” Sandra and I both yelled in unison!  But it was too late as we pulled into our driveway and Christian added his contribution to our car upholstery. Unbelievable! And thus concluded yet another successful Flynn weekend together as a family.  Good times.


B. I wear disposable contact lenses and every night I would remove my contacts, wash them and store them in a contact lens case to let my eyes rest. One morning, I was getting ready for work and proceeded to put my contacts in. However, the moment the lens touched my eye, an unquenchable burning pain shot through my eye and radiated outward like an atomic explosion. The vexing sting was so intense that all surrounding facial muscles were simultaneously contracting shut so as to prohibit me from retrieving the lens. After prying open my eyelid and removing the lens, I gazed at myself through tear ridden eyes to see my right eye swollen and crimson red.  I then inspected my case further and smelled “Eternity” by Calvin Klein. Madison had poured out half of Sandra’s perfume into my contact case the night before as she was pretending to be a grown up!


C. There is little in life more heart-wrenching than seeing a little child who is drastically constipated. Such was the case with Madison who in the early stages of potting-training couldn’t for the life of her do her business.  Several failed attempts of forcing fluids and juices down her had only raised the stakes knowing that at any time she could blow.  Madison was given a little multi-colored potty to carry around with her that enabled her to go at a moment’s notice if she felt so inclined.  It became evident that nothing was going to happen. Therefore, we let Hunter and her play in her room and said, “the two of you play nice, but if you feel you have to go–use your potty”.  A few hours went by and not a peep was heard–one could not express even in the smallest sense how good it felt for Sandra and I to have peace and quiet after a hard day.  It was getting late and I thought, “It’s about time to put the kids to bed.” Nothing could have prepared me for the horrors I would encounter.  No sooner had I opened the door than I was exposed to a festival of feces!  To state the obvious,  Madison had had movement and impressively so!  Unfortunately, Hunter was on the loose and unsupervised.  The rest is art history.  It was everywhere; on the carpet, on her toys and dolls, and most wretchedly, all over Hunter from head to toe.  After my incoherent screeching subsided, we spent the next few hours scrubbing and disinfecting the room and kids.


D. Now that Madison was a big three year old, she begin to feel her own independence. Suddenly, she wanted to be all grown up just like Mom and Dad. Often we would find her into Sandra’s makeup putting lipstick on or asking Sandra to paint her little finger and toe nubs.  Then one day she came running into the family room exclaiming, “I cleaned my hair, clean hair!” Sandra and I stared at her light and shimmering locks which were coated with a thick greasy white paste. “What have you done?!,” we exclaimed. “Clean hair,” was her only defense. We walked her into our bathroom to see she had lacquered her head with an entire stick of Arrid Extra Dry deodorant. We burst out laughing. To be continued, I’m sure...