Hungry?

There is no rhyme or reason to how much this kid eats. Over the long weekend, he really didn't eat all that much. But then last night showed up. Dinner consisted of:

-3/4 of a container of Easy Mac with green beans mixed in
-about a 1/3cup of cottage cheese
-some spaghetti
-somewhere round about 25 blueberries
-about 1/3 of a cucumber, which he just walked around gnawing on

It was shocking and impressive all at the same time.

The cucumber episode was quite amusing. I was putting the container of blueberries back in the fridge, which meant the refrigerator door was open...which meant after a mad sprint into the kitchen, Alex was in the refrigerator. He opened a veggie drawer, pulled out a cucumber, and immediately bit into it. Obviously the skin was not going to go over well, so Travis peeled about an inch or two of it and handed it back to him. And off he went. He looked like an insane cucumber addicted little squirrel holding it in both hands and just gnawing off piece after piece. After two more peelings, he was finally done.

And then, giant pot belly and all, off to bed he waddled.

Lost in Translation

Alex's constant babbling narrative has been a topic of conversation many times. But now there are more words popping out here and there that are actually...words. And I couldn't be happier to be able to have a small inkling of what he wants.

There were some family friends over for Thanksgiving at Trav's parent's house and they had their 2-1/2 yr old daughter with them. At one point Alex walked up to her and started "talking" to her. A lot. And she just stood there for a bit and then looked at him and said, "What?!" So Alex repeated himself...At least I think he repeated himself..it's hard to tell. And once again she looked completely at a loss and just said, "What?!"

I hear ya sister.

Lessons in Anatomy

This morning I was getting dressed in Alex's room. I can no longer get dressed up in my room since he has found incredible delight in throwing shoes down the stairs and can no longer be trusted to stay away from the top of the staircase while I get dressed for the day. Anyway, he was in his room with me, chatting away. And then while I am getting dressed, he stops talking, starts giggling and points to my hoo-ha. I shouldn't say giggling. He was laughing. Like it was one of the funniest things he has ever seen. And I had no idea how to react.

I mean seriously. How am I supposed to respond to my 17 month old little boy laughing at my private bits? Gotta admit, I am not quiet sure why it was so funny to him. It's not like we run a nudist colony in our house, but the kid has seen me naked before. Weird.

So I just said, "Yep. That's Mommy's." 'Cause that's totally a sufficient and appropriate response.

They fit!

I am not sure I can accurately express how excited I am that Alex's feet are not quite so large-golf-ball shaped anymore. Because now he can wear shoes like these. Like he is today. Umm, yeah...They are corduroy.

Very thin silver lining

Good news:
As of this morning the lost weight total is 26lbs.

Bad news:
The only reason for the dramatic and rapid loss of 6lbs is the wretched flu our little outbreak monkey gave me...and I am sure -26 will not be a lasting number.

At about 11pm Thursday night, Alex woke us up. He was way beyond not happy, so down the stairs I trekked. Only to find him sitting in his crib surrounded by vomit. Yay. Trav came down and helped me clean up, but by the time he headed back upstairs, Alex was puking again. And again. And again. For a total of 7 times from 11pm to 4am. Then he woke up at 7am bright eyed and bushy tailed and yelling at the dog for no discernible reason. He had no fever throughout his puke fest, so I had a hard time believing he actually had a virus and settled on the fact that something he ate must have really upset his tiny little system.

I settled on that idea until about 4pm on Saturday. And then it hit me. And I hit the bathroom. Repeatedly. It has been a long time since I have had the flu and believe me you, it is not an experience I missed in the least. Thank everything wonderful that Mariah is a fantastic friend. She came over Sunday morning to save me since Trav had to work. I seriously started crying with relief when I got her text "Be there soon! :)" Like really crying. Anyway, she entertained the beast, I slept.

The ol' stomach is still a bit shaky today, but I am sure to be in tip top form by tomorrow. Yay for little germ-spreaders.

Easiest way to a man's heart

In Alex's room at daycare that have a hideaway-type table. When it isn't in use, it folds up against the wall and is out of the way. Which is nice since there are currently 6 walking/running/screeching babies in that room and the more space the better. And before you throw me a side-eye for calling them babies...If I have to continue to tell people his age in months until he's 2, I get to call him a baby.

Anyway, apparently when whoever is cooking that day comes down the hallway with food for them, all the kids crowd around the door like goats at a petting zoo. All of them except Alex. He waits for the table to be put down, and then runs over and starts setting out the chairs.

I would love to say this is due to some level of leadership, or organization, or anything lovely like that, but I guarantee it isn't. That kid has figured out the fastest way to get the food into his belly. He barely chews his food he eats so fast, so you better believe he is not about to stand around waiting for the teachers to put chairs out.

The new thing I learned today...

Leaving your cup of Fruit Loops in the car and not taking them into daycare with you is trau-matic.

Just thought I would let you know in case you too were planning on leaving your Fruit Loops in the car. DON'T DO IT! The world will be thrown off its axis and your only solution will be to scream and arch your back and throw your head back as far as your neck will allow and have no use of your arms or legs. Traumatic.

Fear. It sucks.

I absolutely hate being scared. I don't like scary movies. I don't like scary costumes or masks. I don't find it amusing when people intentionally startle me. I have learned that the easier you startle, the funnier the mean asshole people that like to scare people think it is when they do scare you. Jerks. Being scared is just all around a gross feeling.

An even grosser feeling though? Seeing a scared kid. It is horrible. A new little girl started at daycare yesterday. She has never been to any daycare before. At first, while her dad was talking to the teachers, she was doing great. She walked right in and immediately started playing. Her dad said good-bye and she was fine. And then about 11 seconds after he left, she realized she was in a room with 5 kids and 4 adults she had never seen before. The terror on her face was heartbreaking. And then the inconsolable crying. As I stood there watching this unfold, I could feel the fear in her. The horror of not knowing what is going on around you. The giant writhing knot in your stomach telling you nothing is going to be ok ever again. Of course we all knew everything was going to be fine and she would eventually realize she was in a safe and fun place, but I felt so bad for her.

And wanna take a stab at what's an even grosser feeling still? Yep. Your own kid scared like that. We live really, ear-splittingly, window-shakingly close to the Madison airport. Normally the planes flying in and out aren't too bad. However, our Madison airport doubles as a military airport. Fighter jets are not quiet. I can't even think of a word so far the opposite of quiet that could accurately explain how loud these planes are. For a frame of reference, when the fighter jets are coming in for landing, we are close enough to the airport that the jets are low enough that we can SEE THE PILOT'S HELMET. And what does that spell? L-O-U-D.

So yesterday, Alex and I were walking around outside when we got home, playing with the dog and getting the mail. Since it's getting close to winter and we are in Wisconsin and this time of year sucks, it was pretty much dark outside aside from the street lights. Alex was just on the other side of a shrub and I heard it. A jet taking off. And its take-off path was directly over our house. By the time I got to Alex, the noise from the plane was so loud I couldn't hear him screaming. But his flailing arms, stomping feet, and the gut wrenchingly scared look on his face all were shouting, "I don't know what's happening and I am SUPER SCARED!!!"

I scooped him up and tried to tell him it was ok. He was crying and holding on to me super tightly, with his face buried in my neck. He calmed down pretty quickly after the jet had gotten far enough away it wasn't busting our eardrums. But the pit in my stomach hung out for a bit.

Long story long, being scared is horrible. The end.

Level 3...OF HELL

Dear Jillian,

I didn't think you could be meaner than you are in Level 2. You blew that conception so far out of the water it sitting dry and comfy on its beach towel with a pina colada and cabana boy rubbing suntan lotion on its back.

I was a bit concerned when the warm up consisted of the cardio moves from Levels 1 & 2, but I figured I could handle what you were planning on dishing out.

I am now concerned for your mental well being. It cannot be healthy to quite obviously enjoy intentionally inflicting that much pain upon others. I admit your victims are willing participants, but that only puts you right up there with Manson. While I appreciate the results of participating in your program, I am stating now that I believe I am suffering from a case of Stockholm Syndrome, as no sane person would purposely go along with your torturous workouts.

Ummm...jumping lunges? Are you fucking kidding me? I am not an acrobat. And you can go ahead and suck it with your "Rock Star" jumps.

But as you say at the end of each workout...We'll see you tomorrow.

I may have created a new monster. Alex thinks it's funny if I act all startled like and throw my hands up in response to him letting out a short, high pitched, very loud scream. He laughs and laughs. Ah, the hilarity of thinking you scared the crap out of your caregiver.

Wanna guess what happened the ENTIRE 13 MINUTE DRIVE TO DAYCARE?

You spin me right 'round

As Alex gets older, I am having way more fun with him than before. There are a lot of times I am not having a lot more fun with him, but whachagonna do? It is just so much better now that we can actually communicate with each other. And watching his personality unfold has been hilarious.

I believe it has been documented previously that he finds it terribly amusing to walk around with his blanket over his head and covering his face until he runs into something. Cracks me up. Odd, and not necessarily the most normal thing I have ever seen, but very funny.

Last night we got to see a whole new routine. He walked in small circles as fast as he could until it made him dizzy. And then laughed like an asylum inmate when he couldn't walk straight and eventually plopped down on his butt. And the whole time he was walking in circles..."AaaAAaAAAaaaaAAAaaa." For about 5 minutes, all you could hear in the kitchen was, AaaAAaAAAaaaaAAAaaa...maniacal laughing...baby plopping on the floor...AaaAAaAAAaaaaAAAaaa...maniacal laughing...baby plopping on the floor. With a slight undertone of Travis and I cracking up.

Now this is the kind of humor I can get behind.

Picasso

This past Saturday morning, I was feeling...a bit under the weather...due to certain activities Friday night. Travis was leaving that afternoon for a couple days, so he got up with Alex and let me sleep. It was glorious. Except for the wicked Stoli induced headache.

Anyway, since it is pretty cold in the morning now, being outside isn't really an option, so we have to sometimes get creative with toy options. There are only so many towers to be knocked over and so many vrooms a car can make before a 16 month old is no longer impressed. And then you are stuck with a bored kid. Which is similar to being stuck with a bored Gremlin. No good. And highly destructive to your house and sanity.

Saturday morning, Travis had a stroke of genius. He always has a bunch of old Budweiser signs either in his car or rolled up in the house waiting to be recycled. All of those signs are paper...with plain white backs. And they are pretty darn big. So, he taped one of the signs onto the coffee table and armed the boy with some crayons. Instant entertainment.

We shall see if Alex will distinguish between when there is paper on the table and it is ok to draw on it, and when there isn't paper on it and drawing won't be so welcomed. We may just be setting him up for failure. But it sure was quiet while I was sleeping.

F.Y.I.

Teeth are wretched.

The end.

Highest form of flattery

When I want Alex to go somewhere that he isn't particularly interested in, I take little itty bitty fast steps as I am walking away from him. He thinks it's funny and usually chases me and TaDa! we get to where we need to be. Last night he wanted me to go into the living room with him. I mentioned I was in the middle of doing something in the kitchen and would be there in a hot minute. He looked up at me with his big blue eyes and started taking little itty bitty fast steps. Needless to say, after I picked myself up off the floor from laughing and fainting from cuteness, I went into the living room with him.

I was all happy and basking in the overload of cute this kid can be and told the story to daycare this morning. Which was when they busted out with the fact that they are pretty sure he says, "Oh shit!" when he drops/throws a toy.

I am only taking credit for the cute little itty bitty fast steps. The dog must have taught him the Oh shit thing.

Baby for sale!

Anyone in the market for a 16 month old little boy?

Charming attributes:
-Devastatingly adorable
-Very funny
-Likes most food
-Likes to be bathed

Not so charming attributes:
-Temper tantrums...often...like every. single. time. he doesn't get what he wants. Or if you offer him his milk when he doesn't want it. Or if you try to have him sit in a shopping cart for more than .4 seconds. Or if you try to put socks on him. Or pants. Or a shirt. Or pajamas.
-Sits on others...intentionally
-Now tackles other children if they have something he wants
-Has to have his blanket. Where is his blanket?! HE WANTS HIS BLANKET!!
-Effectively uses spaghetti arms or legs if he wants to be put down or held, respectively.

Priced to sell! Motivated seller! Get in on this deal before it's gone!

Hooooooly shitballs. If you need me I will be in a padded room. With a lot of booze. And Doritos.

Fork this

I am having one of those days where I feel like I should totally have my shit more together than I do. Just a constant, kinda oppressive feeling like I should be at a level of success that has yet to be attained.

I am blaming this feeling on Maggi having a birthday yesterday. A bunch of us met for some drinks. As I was leaving, it was brought to my attention that I was the oldest person at the table. Sweet. And then I realized that aside from three of the guys in our group of friends, I am the oldest one there too. Double sweet.

These realizations led me to an inventory of where I am in life. I definitely would not go so far as to say I am failing at life, but I am just not where I thought I would be at 32. I mean I am fairly broke, working in an office selling HVAC equipment I know next to nothing about, and I don't have my Mustang anymore. Not totally every little girl's dream of what she's gonna be when she grows up. Really close though, amiright?!

On the good side of things, I have an incredible family, irreplaceable friends, awesome husband, a spazzy loyal mutt and one really fucking funny kid. So I guess if you take away the stuff that doesn't really matter..the money, the status, the Must..wait, the Mustang matters. But if you take away that other stuff, I have succeeded in surrounding myself with people I love and admire. And that's not too shabby...at any age.

And then right as I am starting to see the silver lining, I stab a potato from the leftover pot roast I am having for lunch, which was only made last night because it is dirt cheap to make, and my fucking plastic fork snaps in half.

Claire...Mariah said it best. That picture is totally his new "Bitch please." picture.

He is not impressed

I present you with the latest picture from daycare. I present it without comment because I cannot stop laughing long enough to come up with something witty to say.

Further proof I suck

I do not like Halloween. Everything other than the candy annoys me. And sometimes even the candy annoys me. Who is satisfied by one "fun size" piece of candy? Nobody. Who is satisfied by 11 pieces of "fun size" candy? This girl...Who is no longer "fun size".

I have never liked dressing up. Even as a kid. Trick or Treating makes me anxious. Perhaps because of the traumatic experience of having a giant dummy dropped on me when I was little. And now my poor child has to suffer.

I had a costume for him. I may have only had it because my mom brought it last time she visited, but whatever...I had one. And then I went and didn't pay attention to what day daycare was celebrating Halloween. So I didn't take a costume for him. They took the kids trick or treating to a couple businesses nearby. All the kids and teachers dressed up. Alex's costume? He got to go as "The only kid with a slacker mom that didn't bring him a costume." He didn't win the costume contest.