Happy Birthday Alex!

I know I have been pissing and moaning about the Terrible 2's a lot lately, and I wholeheartedly believe each and every complaint was justified. But, I am so amazed by and having so much fun with this kid it is next to unbearable.

It seems like each day he does something that shocks the pants right off me. He all of sudden knows how to open the latch on the fence gate. He can't figure out the gate that just pushes open and doesn't have a latch, but he'll get there! He climbed up into his car seat in the truck yesterday, and then helped me click the buckles. He can tell me what he wants, what is upsetting him, or what is funny.

There are a couple things in particular that have cracked me up lately...

If I forget to grab his milk before we sit down before bed, I employ the super pleasant "TRAV!" until Travis comes in to see what we need. The other night, Travis went to the store right before bedtime. Alex asked where Daddy was and I told him. He threw his head toward the door and belted out "TRAV!" I couldn't stop laughing enough to tell him that Travis couldn't hear him.

The other thing that is just killin' me...his favorite song is "Me & Bobby McGee" by Janis Joplin. He asks me to sing it at least twice every night. But what really gets me? He sings along. He's terribly off key and clearly doesn't know the words, but he sings along with me for the whole song. He sang along in the car yesterday morning too. It's awesome.

So I guess I am gonna be all cliché and say it. The Terrible 2's are nothing short of just that. Terrible. But the good times that sneak in there in between the tantrums and the screaming and the hitting and the sassing make the terribleness melt away in an instant.

My baby is terribly, spaztically, screamingly, hilariously, sweetly 2 years old now...and I love him so much it actually takes my breath away.

New Chair Wednesday

I got a "new" chair for my desk at work. It's been around the office for a while, but nobody uses it and my chair is beyond squeaky and I keep forgetting the WD40. So I swiped this new one. It is exactly the same as my old one...just not as used. So the seat cushion is much fluffier. And nothing bumps up your confidence quite like that moment you realize how much your ass has squished a foam seat. Psst...it's a lot.

Extra awesome Monday

The birthday party was great. Only weird part was when some kids from somewhere in the neighborhood brought a permission slip to bounce, and then asked if I had any water for them, and then got kicked out of the bounce house by my sister for swearing, and then flipped me some static, and then I yelled at them. But other than that weirdness, it was really good.

By the way, bounce houses are ridiculously fun. I highly recommend partaking in adult beverages and then bouncing with three of your best friends. Who needs crazy pills when you have a bounce house and beer?!

All the fun ended Sunday though. We were headed to my parents' for more birthday celebrating and stopped at Culver's for lunch. At which point Alex's kindasortamightbea fever decided to really show up and play and made him sick enough to barf all over the table. Yay for public puking! So we skipped a day at the pool. He took two 2 hour naps. Travis napped with him. I stained the fence. I got some sun though so it wasn't a total loss.

He was still a little warm Monday morning so I kept him home...while I worked from home. But he wasn't really sick anymore. So he was very active. And loud. And active. Awesomesauce all around. At least this time nobody asked me if there was a dog in the background.

Then it was nap time. He tried to convince me to let him sleep on the couch which I would have been all about if he was actually going to sleep. But tucking your knees under you, putting your butt in the air and your head on a pillow for 7 seconds does not count as sleeping. So I tried to put him down in his room. And then I tried to ignore the screaming for 40 minutes. And then I broke, but quickly fixed, my phone out of frustration. And then I caved and went in and rocked him to sleep. And sleep he did. For 15 minutes. No joke. I almost cried when he woke up.

Shockingly, he was in a pretty good mood for the rest of the afternoon. And he only interrupted two phone calls. One interruption was to say hi to the person I was talking to. Luckily she thought it was cute having a 2 year old repeating Hi.Hi.Hi. into the phone while trying to get his face all up next to said phone while I tried to keep it away from him.

Back to me giving in and rocking him to sleep. I was mad. Mad at him. Mad at me. Mad at the situation. I stormed in and found him standing there in his crib, red face, puffy red eyes, tears streaming down his face. And he just looked at me and between giant sobbing breaths he said, "Fank you Mama, fank you." And then I melted.

Damn you Walt!

I think it might be time to bite the bullet, stop being lazy and actually shave my legs. When we sat down to watch a little Chuggington this morning, Alex kept pulling his legs up and saying Stop please! Took me a minute to realize my leg hair was irritating him. All class, all the time.

Speaking of Disney's morning television programming... They have screwed with Jungle Junction again. And have replaced it with Special Agent Oso. To properly illustrate how horrible Special Agent Oso is, I will tell you this: When it comes on, I change the channel to...wait for it...Mickey Mouse Clubhouse. Disney has done it. They have created something so terrible it forces me into the clutches of that wretched mouse.

I foolishly thought I had won. Silly girl. Disney always gets its way.

I am oddly hyper today. But hyper in a "Wow, did you smoke some crack?" kind of way. Not sure where it is coming from. Not sure I am happy it's here. I'm blaming it on the fact that aside from a secured bounce house rental and some ideas for food, I have zero done for Alex's birthday party on Saturday. Good good.

10!

Once again Travis and I are thanking our lucky stars Alex goes to daycare...

On Sunday, Alex was sitting in his chair at the table, and he and I started counting for some reason that currently escapes the steel trap that is my memory. Anyway, I said 1, he said 2, I said 3 and so on...all the way up to 10. He shouted 10, threw his arms up and cheered like he had just won the Stanley Cup. I sat there slack-jawed and amazed.

I had absolutely positively no clue my child could count to ten. We count to 3 every time we start the car, and he sometimes throws a 4 in there, but I honestly did not know he knew anything beyond that. And what's worse is that at no point did the thought cross my mind that I should maybe be teaching the human I am in charge of that information. I'm too busy teaching him what sound a donkey makes, I don't have time for silly things like numbers. Don't even get me started on letters! What? You think I should teach this kid to read? Pffft.

You can dress me up...

But you can't take me out. Nice Italian restaurant with fancy important people from work...aaaaand I go ahead and knock over one of the fancy important people from work's beer. Full beer. Not even a sip taken out yet. Lucky for me, we were at a nice restaurant, so we had cloth napkins. They absorb a whole lot more. Although now that I think about it, I don't think I offered up my napkin. Classy.

The trip was great. I finally got to meet my favorite people. And we got to watch the Brewer's get their butts kicked from the fourth row behind the Red Sox dugout. Fourth. Row. Amazing.

Tomorrow in the wee hours of the AM, I am off to Boston and surrounding areas for "work". And for this trip, "work" includes seeing the Brewers play at Fenway. I like this kind of work. Travis gets to stay home and work on staining the fence. My work wins.

Go Brewers!

Sweet Dreams

Oh my god! My dream from last night!

I had three, huge, biting, burrowing worms in my foot with half their bodies sticking out and I pulled them out with a tweezers in my parents' bathroom and it hurt like hell and they left three big holes in my foot only to be filled up with more biting burrowing worms and oh my god I am going to throw up now. And in my dream, my sister was very unexcited when I told her...until I showed her their teeth, then she freaked out. And she was a teacher at my old nursery school, Sunshine Garden...when it was still in the basement of a little church. And it was all so real, I immediately gagged and checked my foot for holes upon waking this morning...and have continued to do so periodically throughout the day. And I am 99% positive Nicki hasn't changed careers.

Welbutrin dreams can be a bitch sometimes.

Weirdee

Last night I finally bathed my child. Due to schedule conflicts and an uncooperative toddler, it was a bit overdue. Not sure what the issue was the other night, but he wanted nothing to do with the bath. Which is quite odd for him, but I have given up trying to predict what will make him happy and what will be met with shrieks of displeasure.

Any way, last night. He loves playing with the running water so I plunk him in as soon as I get the temperature right and away we go. Only problem is that he now thinks playing with the hot and cold water knobs is fun. Last night, particularly the cold. He turned the hot all the way off and only had the cold running, and then alternated sticking his butt and his belly under the freezing cold running water. Each time screech-laughing with delight and then telling me the water is cold. Until his teeth were chattering. Then he climbed out and immediately said, "I want blankee." I'm sure you do! Would you like a side order of space heater with that blanket?

Tips from a stellar mom...

When staining a fence, don't fret if you get any stain on your body. Baby wipes make clean up a snap!**

**You quickly learn this when you see the toddler you thought was otherwise entertained with his entire hand in the open gallon can of stain sitting behind you.

Nice change of pace

Last night we went to Travis's company outing at a local baseball game. Not my favorite evening of the year. I am not a huge fan of a lot of the people that work with Travis, and I am also not adept at hiding when I don't particularly like someone. Which a super duper euphemistic way of saying I can come off as kinda rude. Whatever.

Alex was great the whole time. He spent almost all of the time we were there in the sandbox or on the play equipment, and only acknowledged there was a baseball game once when he pointed to the field and asked, "What doing?" But he was super well behaved. He took turns with the other kids and didn't pitch a single fit. Pretty much the only time he spent in the area reserved for the outing was to cram 2 ball park sized hot dogs down his throat. When that kid decides he is hungry, look out!

He lasted until about 8:20 and then he was ready to go home. Like chewing on his blanket type of ready. Since the game started at 7, we were obviously leaving quite early. And multiple people made comments about how us having to leave early was further proof for them that they are not ready for kids. Which is usually right about the time I get all sad that we don't have the footloose and fancy free life we used to have.

But something weird happened last night. We got home and all I could think about was that I had a really good time at the game, but there was nowhere else in the world I wanted to be than on my couch with my family...even the dog.

Yesterday the report was better on the beating the crap out of the other kids at daycare. As in, he didn't kick anyone in the face. Keep your fingers crossed for today.

Now what?

After a third day in a row of bad reports from daycare, I am starting to take it personally. I was handling it all fine and keeping a level head about it until bedtime last night. It was a 40 minute fight to get him to go to sleep. So much screaming. And he was being so good from the time we came home...right up until bedtime. In that 40 minutes I went from a level headed mother of a 2 year old, to a crying woman in her kitchen who obviously does not possess the ability to raise a feral cat much less a decent human.

He was so good and cute up until the bedtime meltdown in fact, it made me temporarily forget he stomped on a classmate's face earlier in the day. Yep. That happened. Apparently the other kid was pulling on Alex's shorts. Alex told him no multiple times (read: snottily said Stop it!), but the kid kept it up until they were both on the floor. So Alex stomped his face. His teacher said it all happened very quickly and there were no marks left on either child, but that it was kinda like she was watching a bar fight. So I am successfully raising a drunken brawler. Fantastic.

I know that meltdowns and tantrums and hitting and screaming and kicking are all lovely characteristics of a lot of toddlers, but that doesn't make it any easier. Based on the nice things he does, I think we are getting through at least a little bit. But maybe that's just human nature and it just proves he isn't a predisposed psychopath. So then I am left with the comfort that he won't go around killing squirrels, but is going to be a total asshole to anyone that annoys him. Phew! Glad that's cleared up.

Good good then

There was a note on Alex's daily daycare sheet yesterday that has never been there before...

"Had an OK day, but was kind of mean."

Ummm...what's that now? Yeah, mean. I come to find out he was fighting with pretty much every kid, all day long. He does have a complete dental record on his arm though so at least one of them got him back. And all of this is in addition to his ever-impressive tantrums.

I think it's safe to say he has a full blown case of the terrible two's. Do they make an ointment for that?

What the huh?

Up 5 pounds. I am chalking it up to high humidity and associated all over body water retention/bloating. Surely it has nothing to do with the amount of Kari's strawberry shortcake I ate on Saturday. Let's not be ridiculous.

Trade off

So I am trying my best to be more diligent about taking my evening dose of Keepyourbrainsinworkingfunction pills. I am mostly succeeding. But that leads to the side effect I was avoiding in the first place. I cannot stay asleep. I can fall asleep just fine. Off to sleep I go...for a bit. And then throughout the rest of the night I wake up at least every 2 hours. Just enough to decide I am uncomfortable, fidget around a bit, look at the clock and fall back asleep. It is so aggravating. Not to mention exhausting.

The other way it messes with my sleepy time is that I have crayzay dreams. Just the other night I was back at my high school, possibly attending classes, but most definitely dating my old math teacher. For clarification and justification, my old math teacher most certainly did not get hit with the ugly stick. Ever. And there was a shopping cart randomly throughout my dream. And my dad was divorcing my mom. Good times.

But I am noticing an improvement in my overall ability to handle things on a day to day basis so that's good. Well, except for Wednesday. Wow, Wednesday was a tough one for me. And in turn for Travis. He is so lucky don't you think? But since I do notice a difference, I am toughing it out on the sleep/dream issue. I figure either my body will get used to the added meds and get over its issues, or I will just go stark raving mad. Place your bets now!

Yes, to everything she said

An open letter to all pollen-bearing organisms:

THE SEX YOU ARE TRYING TO HAVE WITH MY SINUSES IS NOT CONSENSUAL.

NOT ONLY DOES MY FACE NOT WANT TO HAVE YOUR TREE BABIES, BUT IT CAN’T.

IT’S A PHYSICAL IMPOSSIBILTY.

PLEASE EVOLVE A MORE EFFICIENT WAY TO PROCREATE ASAP. THEN GET BACK TO ME AND MAYBE WE CAN SMOOTH THINGS OVER. AS IT STANDS, MY EYES ARE FALLING OUT OF THEIR SOCKETS AND FUCK YOU I DON’T EVEN LIKE OUTSIDE THAT MUCH ANYWAY OH MY GOD THE ITCH.

Love,
Christine

This is a post borrowed from Drink Your Juice. Preach on sista, preach on!

Brat Fest

Last Saturday we stuffed our faces with brats at the World's Largest Brat Fest. Gotta love Wisconsin. Psstt, Lora and Kirsten, Brat Fest is a magical wonderful festival that is centered around selling Johnsonville brats and giving the proceeds to charities. Like 160,000 brats. Which was 50,000 less than last year. Damn you Mother Nature! Anywho, it's a little slice of sour kraut covered heaven.

It has gotten so popular it now is a full on festival. Complete with live music, ice cream, cheese covered french fries, and carnival rides...including the big slide. To say Alex enjoyed it would be a gross understatement. He was so angry when we were walking away from the slide, after his fourth trip down, he bit Travis. Lucky for us, Chocolate Shoppe ice cream soothed his anger so we didn't have to walk all the way back through Brat Fest with a screaming, kicking, biting 2 year old.

And then there's this...

I just couldn't keep it to myself.

Much better

Let's all just take a sec to breathe a sigh of relief that yesterday is over. The awesome constant tantrum mood from the morning lasted all through the night. Except for a short stint while playing on the slide. It was a long evening. But Mr. Alex was all sunshine and rainbows this morning. The mood swings on this kid are nothing short of impressive. And exhausting.

But, really, how can I possibly stay mad at this?

Not possible.

Wrong side of the crib

Wowsers. Alex woke up wearing some extreme crabby camper pants. Crabby to the point that me asking him if he wanted some juice spurred a complete sobbing Good gravy woman why would you ask me that? meltdown. Relax dude, it's juice, not Hemlock. The morning continued on in that fashion. I actually laughed pretty much in his face when about 7 minutes after his juice breakdown, he asked me for juice. So that's how it's gonna be, huh kid? Awwwesome.

The ride to daycare was shockingly quiet. He just kinda blankly stared out of his window and only said about three things. I am pretty sure he is allergic to something flying around in the air, and this morning he totally had the allergy look. Mouth breathing, red itchy eyes, pathetic vacant stare, constant half-sneeze sitting in his nose. Pretty much exactly what I see when I look at Travis or a mirror. Allergy season is fun!

Normally he is super excited to go to daycare. Like requests I run if I am carrying him kind of excited. But today, not so much. He started sadly saying no thank you as soon as I unbuckled him. And that turned into full on hysterics when I opened the front door. After a lot of snuggling and telling him to relax he finally trotted off to play. And I attempted my escape. Attempted and failed. It's like he's got a homing tag on me. As soon as I get one foot out of his room, his internal Mom Is Leaving alarm goes off and he comes run-crying to beg me to stay. Alas, I could not appease his request. And I left hearing the horrible sound of my kid screaming and flailing trying to get to me.

I talked to one of his teachers later in the morning and not shockingly, he was fine about 2.7 minutes after I left. But man, leaving like that just does not get easier.

Cinderelli! Cinderelli!

Last summer Alex's chubby little ball feet were so cute in sandals. You could barely see his toes peeking out the front because we had to buy the shoes in sizes big enough to accommodate the ridiculous width and height of his feet. But they were cute little Flintstone toes peeking out. Not this year.

I have purchased 4 different pairs of sandals. And he refuses to wear any of them. As soon as I get one strapped shut, he starts screeching Owee! Owee! and yanks it off. Which is then followed with over exaggerated head shaking, a super sad face and a "No fank you Mama!"

So we are stuck with his beat up sneakers or a pair of brown shoes that are falling apart. Since the sandals didn't seem to be working out, I bought a super cute pair of Adidas sneakers. Aaaand he hates them.

I hope daycare takes barefoot kids. He won't be allowed in any convenience stores, but whatever.