Give me the hose

I am trying to be more cognizant of how much water I drink each day. Two reasons. First, someone I know has started a detox that requires a ridiculous amount of liquid consumption and it brought my non-alcoholic liquid consumption to my attention. Second, during the last couple Level 3 workouts, I have had little bouts of "Holy shit I think I might pass out." Aside from the torture that is Level 3, I think this is due to lack of hydration. So, I am drinking more water while I sit on my slowly decreasing ass at work all day. Trying to fill my 20oz water bottle 3 times a day. Quick math, carry the one...60oz.

I thought it was going to be difficult to get that much aqua in my belly. But here's the thing that has me all confused. It hasn't been difficult because it seems the more water I drink, the thirstier I am. What the? Who the? How the hell is that happening? The only conclusion I have come to is that I am just more aware of my thirst. It's either that or I am a freak of nature and my body doesn't understand when to be thirsty and when to be quenched.

Whatever the reason, the past three days have turned me into a well hydrated peeing machine.

Stop it.

One of these days it will sink in that this kid is learning by watching other people. Mainly his parents. Who don't have a clue. Good call kid. Anyway, I consistently forget that he is going to mimic anything and everything we say or do. Example here and here. I am getting better about the language though.

When Alex is doing something we don't want him to do, we obviously tell him not to do it. And when he doesn't listen we tell him again. And when he doesn't listen again, we get in his face and tell him to "stop it!" Wanna guess where this is going? Yeeeeeah.

The second I do something he doesn't like, "Stop! Stop it Mama!" Awesome. When I try to hold his hand in a parking lot, you know so he doesn't get run over, Stop it Mama! Because heaven forbid he wouldn't be free to run around a parking lot poking at all the wheels of all the cars. Any attempt to wipe his nose...Stop it! This morning killed me though. We were in the car and Janis Joplin came on the radio. I, of course, started singing to him. He looked me square in the eye, and with shockingly little emotion, "stop it mama."

Really?

Yesterday, 4:15. Today 5:09. These are the times my demon child has woken up. Yesterday, he woke up but was upset and not ready to be awake. And upset enough that he screamed any time I wasn't holding him or rubbing his back. So he fell back asleep and I tried to sleep in a glider...sitting upright. Today, he just woke up. Like awake for the day. At 5:09 AM. Awake and ready to go about our morning routine.

The only good thing about being awake at that hour? Phineas and Ferb.

Too much?

A lady called me today looking for a reference for Alex's daycare. She is having her first child and interviewing daycares, and Alex's gave her my number. If it is possible to over-recommend a place, I think I did just that. After I hung up the phone and replayed the conversation in my head, I realized I sounded like a 13 year old talking about her first crush.

I can't help it. They are, and always have been, so great to us. They were there when the first daycare made all of my fears come to life. They helped us figure out how to get that kid to stop his next to constant crying when he was an infant. They gave me a packet of information about biting when he turned into an angry piranha. They check on him if he is home sick. They buy a cute shirt if it makes them think of him. Every step of the way, they have been there if we have questions or problems.

And, he freaking loves it there. He gets all giddy when we talk about his teachers and the whole way there each morning he keeps calling out the names of the kids in his room. How could I not over-recommend a place that is such an awesome part of my family? I just hope she doesn't think I'm nuts.

Just got a picture message from daycare. Alex is vacuuming. I am starting to be more concerned with this kid's obsession with vacuum cleaners. And more convinced that we will have the cleanest carpet this side of the Mississippi.

Redepressed?

All of a sudden I feel like I could cry at any moment. Actually, I have been crying at any moment lately. Only for a few seconds, enough for three tears, but it's there nonetheless.(I love LOVE the word nonetheless) And it's weird. I have been feeling really good since I met my good friend Welbutrin. But about a week ago, that changed. I have no clue what happened. No clue what event or moment spurred these feelings again. What I do know is, I don't like it. Not one bit. These feelings can suck it. I liked feeling better.

In this past week I have once again started feeling overwhelmed by nothing. I am unsure of every and any decision I have made or need to make. Picking which jeans to wear today was an issue. Little things seem like a big deal again. I find myself struggling to decide what to make for dinner...or if I should go for a run or let Jillian yell at me. Just things that shouldn't take more than a quick thought to land on a decision. Instead of quick thoughts I get monsoons of indecision. And then I realize I am being ridiculous and it makes me sad and frustrated, and that makes it even harder to make a decision. Yay for vicious cycles!

I am lucky though. I have been through this before and I now have the knowledge and tools to help myself not get to a worse place. I haven't been taking the full dose of the Welbutrin for quite some time for a couple of reasons. One, it was messing with my sleep time. Nobody messes with my sleep time. Alex did for a very long time and he is lucky he made it out alive. Two, I really want to believe my brain will figure its shit out and fire the right zappers at the right time to the right other zappers. Unfortunately the only way to find that out is by not taking the medicine. Ding!Ding!Ding! I think we've got an answer! My brain's zappers are still out of order.

So it's decided then...back to full doses. Good talk.

Nutball doesn't fall far from the tree

I feel like I am pretty honest with myself, and anyone who stands still long enough, about the fact that Alex can totally be a pill. In fact, I feel like I might be a bit hard on the little guy sometimes. But I do not want to have a jerk kid. I don't want to have the kid that people complain about. I don't want my kid to be the one at the park the other parents hope their kids don't play with. I also have no qualms about using his insanity as a backbone to my only having one kid argument. That being said, I think we are doing an alright job so far. He can be a total shit, but for the most part he is a sweet, funny little kid.

Since I am fully aware of his ability to bring a grown person to their knees, you would think I wouldn't get all weird when someone comments on him being a nutball. You would think. But no. Not the case. When I picked him up this afternoon, the teacher he had today told me he had a great day, but she totally gets why I am not jumping at the opportunity to have another one of him running around. Wouldn't you think I would relish in someone else's understanding? Someone justifying my feelings that it isn't that I am just a wimp, he can be a handful. Nope, not me. I got all defensive. I quickly realized I was overreacting and I really hope I was able to hide my defensive-ness. I just laughed and said that he is definitely 120% boy. I was early picking him up so I got to hang out for a bit. The whole time I found myself mentally picking at everything that teacher did. Because she told me something I already know and quite often bitch about. What the hell?

I suppose it is nothing more than he is my baby. I get to say he is naughty. I get to say he is difficult. Everyone else gets to tell me how charming and sweet and cute and funny he is. The end.

Vroooom

Alex's love of playing in the car doesn't seem to be anywhere close to subsiding. Most evenings I end up spending a solid chunk of time standing in the garage while he climbs around my truck like an orangutan with a never ending thirst for small space exploration.

He has also become very interested in keys. He asks for my keys at least 7 times a day. 5 of those while he is playing in the truck. The other day he asked for the keys and I figured why not? He is not even 2 years old...like he is going to do anything with the keys but pretend. Yeah...apparently he is more observant than I give him credit for. Very shortly after giving him the keys, I heard the radio and the dinging of the door ajar alarm. He knew exactly what key to use and where to put it, and had the key turned to the accessory setting. I think my only saving grace from totally failing as a caregiver is that his chubby little sausage hands aren't strong enough to turn the key over...yet.

Some?

We have a new game at dinner time. Alex sits in his chair and eats like a normal human for about three bites. Then he gets a big fork or spoon full of whatever goodness he is dining on, reaches over to either Travis or me, and says, "Ahnt some?" As soon as we say yes and open our mouths, he yanks his offer back and crams it in his mouth. The twinkle in his eyes throughout this routine is frightening. You can tell exactly when he has decided he is going to start the game...this kid does not possess a poker face. And the face he is showing, is a face of pure naughty. We are so screwed.

Turns

One of the things I realized we need to work on teaching Alex since he is the only beast child ruling our house is taking turns. Unless we force the issue, he doesn't have to take turns. It's not like Travis and I are begging to play with the mini golf clubs or toy shopping cart. And quite frankly, we aren't begging for our turn with the shop vac either. Toddlers don't want to take turns...ever. And that is bad enough. But a toddler that doesn't understand the concept of taking turns? Then you get the tantrum with the added confusion of "Turns? What the hell are you talking about?"

This is yet another benefit of daycare. The kids there do want to play with the same things he wants to play with. So turns must be taken. He is getting pretty good at vocalizing who's turn it is. My turn? Your turn? Puppy turn? That being said, he is muuuuch happier with "my turn" than "your turn". Your turn is never quite a genuine offer. It is so obvious he is lookin' for the atta boy when he offers a turn to anyone else. An answer of, Why yes I would love to pretend to toast plastic bread in a plastic toaster, produces a sad Alex. I am onto you dude. Nice try though.

When we were at the hotel last weekend, there was a little boy that wanted to play with the dinosaur grabby thing. A little boy that was actually going to put tokens in the machine and attempt to win something. Alex was hanging out with Grandma at this point, but she very happily reported that when she told him it was the other little boy's turn, he didn't throw a fit and he calmly let go of the grabby handle thing. He stood there and watched the kid like he was a chubby little mouse and Alex was a starving hawk, but he let him have a turn. Good good.

Sitting on things is still fun.

The weekend at the hotel was a success! Alex was very happy with the abundance of water. Every time we were within eye sight of a pool, he would pull on my hand and just repeat, "Wahkah? Wahkah? Wahkah?" I got lucky though...no swimsuit for me! Travis took him in most times, and the other times his uncles were already in the water. Although each time he got out of the water, he came to me, which resulted in wet shirts and wet jeans. But no wet swimsuit, so I was a happy camper. And the monitor reached from our room to the pool area. Freedom!!!

Alex was also quite amused with the arcade games. Especially this dinosaur grabber thing. He never actually won anything...mostly because we never actually put tokens in the machine...but he loved pulling the lever and watching the tray of toys spin around at Mach 3. His cousins were much more successful. The ability all of those kids possess at winning balls of all sizes is nothing short of amazing. And being the awesome cousins they are, Alex got to bring one home. Which he spent about 20 minutes trying to sit on last night. It was one of those balls that are stretchy, so when you squish them on one side, the other side squishes out all huge and gross looking. This lovely attribute apparently makes it easier and much more amusing to sit on this particular ball. But then sitting on it evolved in to laying on it, and laying on it evolved into body slamming it...which evolved into a popped squishy ball. He handled it breaking much better than I anticipated. But I think that was solely because when it was all flattened and wobbly, it made it easier to whip it at the dog.

We have total control in our house.

Sacrifice

I'm doing it. I am sucking it up, putting my best foot forward and I am wearing a swimsuit in public tomorrow. I am still not quite ok with my ass so I found some swim shorts...trunks for girls if you will. And a halter top to go with it. I figure as long as I only stand up as straight as possible and keep my abs flexed at all times, I should be good to go. There will be no sitting. Things settle in weird places when I sit and the cover of clothing is necessary.

Why am I torturing myself and any onlookers you ask? Because we are going to be at a hotel. With a pool. And I will have my water obsessed spaz child with me. Pretty sure we will all resemble really old raisins by the end of the day. And because I love the little otter, I am willing to put my self confidence to the ultimate test and bare more skin than I have in quite some time...But not without complaining about it first.

Wish me luck.

Jerk? Or just 2?

Four days a week, Alex has the same teacher. One day a week he has a different teacher. This week that day was Tuesday. When I picked him and asked how his day was, she informed me he was more aggressive than normal. Taking toys away, not sharing, hitting when he doesn't get what he wants, lovely things like that. So yesterday I asked his regular teacher about it. Her response? "Well, yeah, I mean I suppose, but it isn't any different than any other day." Awesome.

He does do a lot of really sweet things too. He will ask if you're ok if you say ouch, he will do any job you ask of him...which is fantastic when it comes to throwing away stink-nasty diapers...he blows kisses, he has full on conversations filled with incredible stories. At least I think they are filled with incredible stories. Those conversations are a little one-sided and that side is mostly jibberish. Point being, he is not a total asshole all the time. Actually most the time he is a really sweet, good kid. But when he wants to be a jerk, he is wholly successful.

Anyway, I was all bothered by his aggressive behavior last night so when I got to daycare today I made sure to talk to his regular teacher about it. I told her it was bugging me and I thought we needed a plan. I mean I have no plan, but I thought she should be aware of hopefully forthcoming plan. Or, you know, tell me the plan. Because, psssst...I have no freaking idea what I am doing. Her suggestions are to keep up with the time-outs and also be more strict on making sure he apologizes to anyone he is mean to. Both sound reasonable to me.

So then I asked her if she thought this is all typical 2 year old behavior, or if my kid is just a jerk. When she got done laughing, she said she's 99% sure it's just because he is almost 2. Speaking of which, HE IS ALMOST 2. Weirdness.

No. And I mean it...kinda.

In general I think that we are pretty good about sticking to what we say when we tell Alex he can't have or do something. But there are definitely times that both of us have given in to his demands in exchange for release from the tantrum strong hold he has us trapped in at that very moment. Those times are few and far between. At least I think they are few and far between. My brain has a remarkable resemblance to mashed potatoes at the end of each day, so I could be completely fooling myself and I would never know. Until, of course, I have a demon child that Satan himself refuses to babysit. Let's hope I am not fooling myself.

The nuk has become my sticking point of being tougher. I haven't actually told him he can't have it yet, so I haven't gone back on anything. But, he doesn't use it at all at daycare. All day long, he is a nuk-free kid. Even during his nap. The second I walk in, he walks up to me, gets his forehead all wrinkly and his eyes super sad and says, "Gaga? Gaga?" Not sure why orwhen he started calling his nuk Gaga, but whatever...not the point. The point is, he clearly does not have a need for it. When it is put away at daycare he is fine. So it's me and my unwillingness to tough it out. Unwillingness to make him sad. Unwillingness to listen to the whining. Which is stupid since the whining will not last that long I am guessing. I know I just said a week or two ago that he wasn't ready to get rid of it. Well, the times they are a-changin'. We shall see when I decide to formulate and implement Operation Nuk Removal.

Travis on the other hand showed he is a huge pushover last night. Alex was "helping" him with some project he had created for himself. The project ended and Travis took Alex downstairs with him to put the tools away. Downstairs in the basement. The basement where we keep the shop vac stored. Immediately I hear On?On?On? coming from down there. Followed by Travis saying, "No buddy. We don't need to vacuum tonight." Aaaaaaand crying sobbing screaming. So Trav brings Alex upstairs still saying no. 0.56 seconds after being upstairs I hear him say, "Do you really want to vacuum? I will bring it up, but no more crying." As he was lugging it through the kitchen I gave him a Way to Stick To Your Guns look. He justification? It breaks his heart to make his boy sad. Truth. It sucks making your kid sad. But we gotta do it.

This morning Alex immediately started playing with the stupid shop vac. I had to get him dressed while he was holding onto the nozzle. And then it came time to leave. Every morning we go through the same routine: say good-bye to Jungle Junction, turn the tv off, shut the doors of the armoire, say good-bye to Aiden, go to the car. Today the routine had a hiccup. A hiccup in the form of a 12 gallon shop vac. We went through all of our good-byes, and then he just stood there wearing his jacket holding the nozzle of the shop vac. He indicated he wanted to bring it with. I declined. He of course asked why and I explained it was too big and heavy to bring with us. For a split second there was an inkling of understanding and he almost put the nozzle down. But no. I am happy to report I won this stand-off. I finally got him to say to good-bye to the shop vac and come with me...without any tears. I have no clue how I did it.

Not yet.

I know I said I am super happy Alex can talk, and make sense, a lot more now. But then there are times I am sorry I wished for that. Like when I ask him if I can snuggle him. And he responds, "No, thank you." Ummm...I guess I am glad he is using his manners...?

Another thing happened this weekend though. He kicked his shoe off in the car, followed with the least believable "uh-oh" yet. And then he started pulling on his sock and saying "off?" So I told him no and that he needed to leave his sock on. And then I heard the word I didn't think I was going to hear for quite a while...Why?

Noooooo! Not yet. I won't allow it. I don't wanna! He is not old enough for the never ending string of why?why?why? Or at least I am not ready for that never ending string. Mostly because my reasons for wanting things are no where in the same stratosphere as his understanding. Why can't you take your sock off? Because we are 5 minutes from daycare and I don't want to bring in a kid missing one shoe and one sock. I impress them daily on my own without you throwing extra hijinks into the mix. The meaning gets lost somewhere in the adult- to toddler-ese translation. So I end up with the all encompassing response of "Because." Game on.

Snot snot everywhere!

As with every other germ infested outbreak monkey that goes to daycare, Alex is constantly in a revolving door of sick. He gets sick, he gets better for like 2 weeks, he gets sick. Lather, rinse, repeat. Emphasis on the lather please. I am really looking forward to nicer weather. I don't know if it's fact that people don't get sick as often in the summer or not, but it seems that way and I am going with it.

Anywho, in the least shocking news of the day: Alex has a cold! Complete with runny nose and old man smoker's cough. He is taking it in stride though and not being overly cranky, so I shouldn't really complain. But I'm gonna.

The runny nose kills me. Just thinking about it makes me gag a little. This morning in the car was just down right nasty. First I hear him giggling so I peek back to see what is tickling his fancy. It was a string of snot that was making a bridge between two mountains of blanket. Barf #1. Then a short bit later my attention is beckoned with a very flat, "Mom." I look back and see a giant smile and a finger pointing to a giant slimy slug trail of snot on the verge of breeching his upper lip and landing in his open mouth. Big barf #2. As I am gagging, I throw the napkin I had my bagel wrapped in at him and gag out a demand for a nose wiping. Luckily he has this mastered since letting him do it is the only way to avoid a complete meltdown fit every time you have to de-snot this kid.

Come on summer.

'Bout time!

The shop vac has become a favorite toy of my little beast child. He wants it on all the time. As soon as he sees it he asks to turn it on. On? On? On? Which would be fine, except shop vacs are really really loud. And there is only so much 2000 decibels of WHRRRRRRRRRRR two adults can handle in a day.

We got this video... http://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=youtube_gdata_player&v=_NKCPJEKmBU ....and then Travis hid the shop vac. When he was taking it downstairs after Alex went to bed on Sunday, he looked at me and desperately said, "I can't take it anymore! I just can't." I do not blame him and I am not sad about this. But someone in the house is. When we got home yesterday, Alex just kept walking in and out of the living room saying, "on? on? on?" I handed that one over to Trav.

Two's. They're terrible.

Alex has found the joy of playing in the car. He loves it. As soon as I unbuckle him, he climbs into the driver's seat and goes nuts. He pushes every button, turns every dial. After he gets everything set to his standard he explores the rest of the vehicle. Yesterday he figured out that he can stand in the back of truck. The look of amazement he gave me through the window was fantastic. He also recently discovered the automatic locks. So when the button catches his eye, there is a good 20 seconds when all you can hear is "clunk, clunk, clunk, clunk" from him pushing the button over and over and over. Can automatic locks wear out?

Aside from the amount of time I now spend standing outside the truck, I love that he loves it. It reminds me of how much I used to love playing in the car. And every time I start the truck it's like a surprise party! The windshield wipers are going, the blinker is on, the lights are not only on, but set to brights!

Then the fact that he is almost a 2 year old comes into play. He raises holy hell when he can't play in the car after a trip. Any trip. This morning taking him out of his seat and not letting him play when we got to daycare resulted in an epic meltdown. Always fun to walk into daycare with a screaming, crying, snot baby that clearly thinks you're a big jerk.

Come on!

It never ceases to amaze me how many things Alex learns, and then mimics, from watching us. He now walks to the back door, pushes it slightly open and yells for the dog while attempting to whistle..."'mon A-en! Fffstaluuu!" The look on the dog's face is pricless. She just gives a "yeeeahhh...right." and walks away. That dog has quickly learned to cherish the kid-free time she gets.

One thing I didn't even realize we do, that he now does constantly, is grab our hands and tell us to "'mon." Every time he does it, a montage of images of me grabbing his hand and telling him to "come on" with me plays through my mind on super fast. He does this every single time he wants us to go somewhere. Lately he has been leading me to a tiny closet in the house. Pulling on my hand and directing me to 'mon! until we are both in the closet. Then I am instructed to sit. And then he closes the doors and leaves. Occasionally he comes back.

Friday morning he got sick at daycare. Twice. His teacher took him into the bathroom in an attempt to save the carpet. It was there he did something she said she has never seen a small child do. Apparently he immediately crouched over with his head over the toilet. As she was telling me this story this morning, I was wondering how he would have known to do that. The mortifying answer popped into my brain right as the teacher was smiling and insinuating that maybe he had seen me throwing up when suffering from "the flu". Yeah...that would be the flu Stoli causes. I am a shining example of classy parenting. But! Kinda nice that once he figures out how to anticipate being sick he already knows to puke in the toilet...right?

Now I'm guck..

I am stuck at -26lbs. I cannot seem to get beyond that mark. Which is really irritating. I know I could alter my eating habits or other silly things like that. Idontwannanotgonnacantmakeme. It's such an odd number to be at...I feel goofy saying I've lost 26lbs. Kinda like a little kid that tells you they are 4&3/4 years old. Like I should grow up and just round it to 25. But then I am selling myself short of that 1lb. Not gonna happen. No way people aren't going to hear about every last ounce I have Jillian Michael'd off my butt. And I feel like those last 4lbs to get me to 30 are just hangin' on, taunting me. Jerks. I'll get them one of these days.