Better?

Each day when I go to pick Alex up, I tentatively open the door, listen for screaming and hope my child isn't causing it if there is in fact. This week has been way better than the last couple of weeks. I realize it is only Wednesday, but I am takin' what I can get these days.

Monday was great. No notes, no ouch or incidents reports and his teachers didn't look like exhausted desperate beaten down shells of their former selves. Yesterday I get there and, as always, the first words out of my mouth are "How was he today?" Which is asked while I wear my best "please don't kick my kid out of your day care if for no other reason than you kinda like me" face. I was told he had a great day...until they went outside.

While they were outside Alex found a Skip It. Aaaaand hit picked it up and hit a kid with it. So he had to sit down for the remainder of outside time. You know, because he used a toy like a medieval mace.

Fingers crossed

Alex was great this weekend. There were the normal 2 year old meltdowns, but all in all, he was great. We went to a small festival in a park near us on Saturday. There isn't a whole ton for little kids, but there is a big sandbox/sandpit type area that is filled with donated toys. Toys that just stay there in the park for kids to play with and nobody messes with them or steals them. A little thing that helps restore my faith in people not totally sucking all the time.

Anywho, Maggi, Mariah, and I sat next to that sandbox area for about 3 hours. Occasionally one of us would wander off in search of food and beverage. But for the most part, we got to just sit and chat. And Alex was great. For about 3 hours he played with a bunch of kids he has never met. And he shared the toys. And he didn't scream, hit or bite. He just played. There were moments here and there that an adult's guidance was needed, but who wouldn't want control of all the lawn mowers? On the way home I asked him if he had fun and was answered with a wide-eyed, "YESSSS!"

He was great yesterday too. I am keeping my hopes up and everything crossed that he is good at daycare today. Poor Kristina might just lose it if he has another rough day.

Work in Progress

I saw this on Mariah's blog this morning. I should put this on a piece of paper and keep it on my person at all times:

"You interact with the same people, you coddle them, because the truth is in your next stage they might get left behind. But who are you to stagger yourself for no one else's gain? By staying behind you don't do any favors, instead you'll grow more restless knowing this is not where you belong. Sometimes all it takes is looking back to where you came from to be inspired about who you could be. You're not a finished product, you have more work to do. And sure that's hard, but it's hard to keep a soul from getting to its next stage. Today, remember your soul will never stop growing. Be restless enough to come undone and come into yourself again." - Leslie Pitterson

I really have a hard time with big decisions. Anything from changing jobs, moving houses, or having a kid. And my biggest hurdle is always how I think those changes will affect my relationships with my friends. I need to get my brain to a place where it understands day to day things may change, but I have got the most amazing group of friends and no job, house, or anything else is going to change that.

We'll see how I do next time a change comes 'round.

Also...

It seems as though I shouldn't have been talkin' smack to the world just because I liked my jeans. I have now learned that lesson through a dying Toyota Camry.

Dreamy

Anyone have a dream interpretation book? If so, look up "Cat running up and down wallpapered walls at light speed" and let me know what the hell my brains were thinking about last night.

All wet

It has been previously mentioned that this kid really really loves water. He especially likes playing in the kitchen sink. He can move the chair to the sink, he can adjust the water flow, he can pull the faucet head out and make a sprayer out of it. How exciting!

Last night he had a particularly messy dinner so I told him he could wash his hands in the kitchen sink. This accomplishes three things. 1. His hands get clean sans fit throwing. 2. He is entertained. 3. Due to the entertainment value, I have a hot minute to clean up the disaster he has created before it dries onto my table like some sort of mutant tomato sauce/yogurt/milk concrete.

While he is playing in the sink and I am cleaning up, the kitchen is filled with a rather loud narration from Alex. "Dump it. Dump it. Dump it. Wash hands. Wash belly. Dump it." All accompanied with giggles and delighted shrieks. Last night, "All wet." was added to the narration. I didn't think anything of it because, you know, he was playing with water. But he kept repeating it over and over, so finally I looked up and asked what was all wet. Yeeeeaaaahhh...that would be my cell phone.

Denim makes the world go 'round.

It never ceases to amaze me how the right pair of jeans can completely and totally influence your outlook on the day.

Ain't nothing gonna break my stride! Nobody's gonna slow me down.

Bring it world...and thank you for today's theme song Men at Work.

Dump it. Dump it. Dump it.

Welcome to the life of one Mr. Alex T. Julius.

Who knew books could work?

I want to find and kiss the author of Hands Are Not for Hitting. But since I believe that to be a fruitless endeavor, I am going to monetarily kiss the author by also buying Teeth Are Not for Biting.

I bought the hitting book late last week. The book is all about what hands are used for and it repeatedly reminds you that, you got it, hands are not for hitting. I may be jumping the gun here, but I think this book might actually be getting the message through Alex's skull that he shouldn't hit people. I am positive it doesn't hurt that we read the damn thing at least 3 times a night.

Yesterday we went for a walk with his singing toy tow truck. About halfway around the block, Alex was no longer interested in walking. He wanted to play with sticks and ants and mud and poke ants and mud with sticks. I finally got his attention back to the tow truck that we were pulling. It was then he decided the sidewalk was where he wanted to sit down and play with this toy. I disagreed. And so started the struggle between a mother and her noodle-legged toddler.

Finally I scooped him and started toward home...and he started hitting me. I immediately said in a very stern but sad voice, "Alex...hands are not for hitting." And he stopped for a second and then just lightly patted my shoulder while asking "OK Mama?" over and over and over. Yep dude, that IS ok. I will take light shoulder patting over getting smacked anywhere within your tiny little reach, any day.

A bit much

Alex and I went to my parents' house yesterday. We had a great afternoon of playing, tantrum throwing, tractor riding, trampolining, tantrum throwing, horse brushing, eating and bath taking. I am not too sure, but I think he likes taking a bath...

We packed up and got on the road right after his bath and by the time we hit the freeway, he was racked out in his seat. He didn't move a muscle the whole ride. As we were pulling into the garage, he lifted his head and with barely opened eyes, I kid you not, he sleepily said, "Why?"

That is how often this kid asks why.

All class, all the time.

When we woke up Saturday it was pouring outside. First words out of Travis's mouth..."Well, looks like we are gonna have to get creative." All day inside with a 2 year old is not high on my list of things I want to do on a Saturday. But, after a trip to Target and a screw in one of my truck tires, the sun came out and it was a gorgeous day. So after a nap, Alex and I met Kari and her beast child at the local city pool. The pool was awesome, the boys were great, the sun was out.

By the time we got home everyone was hungry, so we went to our local bar & grill for din din. And of course sat right up at the bar...because who doesn't when they are out for dinner with a 2 and 6 year old? Anywho, the boys were playing Buck Hunter...Well, Trevor was playing and Alex was watching. And Trevor is frighteningly good at Buck Hunter, so Alex just stood there staring and then yelling, "Whooooooaaaa! Did you see that?" It was so redneck, but so so so funny. After they were done, Travis took Alex to "spin the wheels." Which is apparently their name for playing video poker.

Trav put $5 in the machine and with Alex on his lap, started playing. He was doing pretty well, getting free spins and bonus screens. And then Alex reached up and before Travis could stop him, Alex hit the All Stop button...and the screen came up all fruit...aka $120 winner. The boys bought dinner.

Do as I say, not as I do.

Thursday's pick-up from daycare included 2 incident reports (ie, Alex bit someone) and 1 ouch report. The ouch report let me know that Alex was put in a time out because he was being a big jerk and he was so mad about it, he bit himself. In fact, he bit himself so hard, he still has a slight bruise...6 days later. Monday I was told he attempted to bite twice. Yesterday there was a highlighted note that he was being a bully and biting and hitting kids.

So obviously I took a moment or five to talk to his teacher about all of this. Alex was playing while we were talking and was being very well behaved. I finished up with his teacher and told him it was time to leave. And he of course needed a drink of water before we left. I conceded the one drink but put my foot down about leaving when he wanted to play with the Guinea Pigs. He disagreed with my departure time, so I picked him up and started toward the door. And he hit me. Not hard and only in the shoulder, but he hit me. So as he was winding up to hit me again, I reached across with my free hand to grab his arm in an effort to stop the hitting while telling him not to hit.

Aaaaaand in doing that, I socked him right in the face.

I love you The Oatmeal.

Today is a good day.

For the first time in just over a week: I can pick my foot up about half-way to a butt kick, I am walking like a normal human instead of a handicapable penguin, and I can sit down on the toilet without feeling like I have a spiky boulder in my right butt cheek attached to the other spiky boulder in my hamstring. You know what that is people? Progress baby! And not a moment too soon. My attempt at having a positive outlook and good attitude in general about this injury was gettin' pretty weak.

I am up 8 flippin' pounds since this happened. Some of it is due to the insane swelling, but no working out makes me feel kinda squishy all over. Add the squishy to the nasty huge number on the scale and you get one unhappy Mama Bird. So last night, I employed a upper body work out consisting of various crunch-style things, push-ups and some shadow boxing. I didn't get very far before my meddling munchkin asked What doing? I told him I was exercising. He responded with a hearty laugh and saying, "Stop it Mama." His laugh and intonation made it very clear he thought I was being ridiculous. Ridiculous or not, it felt really good to get the ol' ticker pumping a bit. Here's to hoping I will be screaming profanity at Jillian again real quick like.

Feelin' good

Lately Alex has wanted nothing to do with changing his clothes and/or diaper. His preferred defense to my attire changing offense? Kicking his feet wildly in the air while writhing around like he is being electrocuted. Fun fun for everyone!

I try really hard to keep my patience. To remind myself he is a 2 year old with little to no control over his emotions. To remember it is not the end of the world and I will eventually prevail. I try really hard and about 40% of the time I succeed. The other 60% is not pretty.

I start off all nice and calm. I hold out for a while, usually until his flailing little feet make contact. Kicks in the leg prompt me to pretend I am very hurt in an effort to conjure up some sympathy and hopefully still legs. But once I catch one to the chest or face, it's game over. I lose it. Just like I lost it this morning. And when I lost it this morning, I yelled. Really loudly and totally in his face. And then I instantly started crying.

I hate that I yell when I get mad. I hate that I get mad as easily as I do. I really don't want Alex to grow up with that. So, I guess I just keep working on it. In the mean time, it's totally ok to ask a 2 year old if they know Mommy loves them even though she yelled, right? 'Cause he totally gets that concept and isn't just sitting there afraid of the crazy lady wiping his ass.

This sucks.

So I am sitting here being a good little injured waterskiier and icing my ace bandage wrapped elephantitis leg. I move the ice pack from the lower position of pain to just under my butt. Sit for a while. Then move it out from under me to put it back in the freezer. But I see a message on my computer so I reach out to my mouse to click on it. And my mouse feels slimy...

Yeah. The ice pack broke. So now I have no more ice pack. And I have blue gel goo stuff on my chair, the butt of my jeans and my mouse. And I find out it's toxic. Awesomesauce all around.

Let's go!

This morning was another one of those roller coaster mornings. Luckily, the roller coaster was mostly up in the air and speeding right along. There were a few dips and dives, but nothing we couldn't deal with. Which is good given the state of my leg. Anyone sick of hearing about my leg?

Getting the boy dressed was a bit of an adventure. A kicking squirming fake crying adventure. But after that, he was all about Mickey Mouse Clubhouse this morning...singing along, calling for Toodles, saying Cheers...all important activities on any Mouskaventure.

Even though he was really diggin' it, he turned the tv off the first time I asked him, said good-bye to the dog and walked out the door with me. And then he saw his tricycle. And then he sat on his tricycle. I started to repeat myself about how we needed to get going and that he needed to come with me. And then I said screw it. I looked at him and said, "I'm a leaving. You coming?" He said no and told me in no uncertain terms he was intent on riding his bike. So I said, "K, see ya." and walked to the garage.

That little shit let me get all the way into the garage and in the truck before he came outside calling for me. So at the door of garage I sweetly asked him if he was comin' with me. Which was answered with an overly excited YES! And he ran across the lawn screeching, "I RUNNIN' MAMA! I RUNNIN'!" And we were off. Smooth sailin' baby.

It's normal for your leg to swell so much your jeans fit crooked, right? Yeah...good call on the slalom deep water starts Julius, good call.

Spring Chicken

We went water skiing on Sunday. It was glorious! I love skiing. I love being at the lake, the smell of outboard motor exhaust, the flopping into the water at the end of a great run, the straight up exhaustion at the end of the day.

After four hilariously failed attempts, I was up and off to the wake cutting races. And I was instantly happy. So so happy. It's hard to explain how I feel when I am when I am skiing. Elated. Relaxed. Just plain old happy.

However, skiing for the first time in about 5 years when you are 33 years old has horrible consequences. When I get up, I have all of my weight on my right leg. Apparently even Jillian doesn't prepare your hamstring for that kind of stress. My leg hurts. My leg hurts real real bad.

But...so worth it.

Wandering thoughts

I feel like I am waiting for something big to happen in my life. Kinda like I am in a general state of un-fulfilment. Constantly feeling want. And I feel like I am missing out on the life that is right there in front of me because I am constantly looking for what is coming next.

But then if I let myself be content, am I giving up on bettering myself?

Don't get me wrong...I am very happy with all the different elements of my life. But I feel like I should be doing it better. Making a difference in anything bigger than my little world. Making things better for Alex. And more comfortable for us.

Or maybe I just need to sit back and enjoy the insane ride my little two year old monster is taking me on.

Why?

I know I have complained about this before, and I know it's like this with every kid, but holy shitballs. This kid. With the why's. He's sucking my will to live. Every single answer I give him has an immediate follow up question. Why?

Typical conversation:

Alex: What doing Mom?

Me: Making dinner.

Alex: Why?

Me: So we have something yummy to eat.

Alex: Why?

Me: Because we are all hungry.

Alex: Why?

Me: Because it is the time of the day that we are all hungry, every single day.

Alex: Why?

Me: Seriously? Are we really going to keep going on like this?

Alex: Why?

Me: Awesome.

Alex: I want juice.

He recently has started just skipping a step. So now when he asks what I am doing, he doesn't wait for me to answer before issuing his follow up question:

Alex: What doing Mom?Why?

Me (while scanning the room desperately looking for the Bloopers cameras): What is happening?!?

And yes, I realize he is just trying to learn and I should be happy about his curiosity and clear desire to figure stuff out and yay my kid is cognitively growing. But can't we figure out some sort of schedule? A schedule that isn't every day, all day? You know, say like from 7pm til bed time, Mon-Fri...or any and all hours he is at daycare. Yeah, I can work with that.

And away we go!

Alex went on his first field trip today. The daycare took the kids to a local creamery. They are brave beyond words. I can't imagine trying to control those kids when they are contained in a room made specifically for them. Taking multiple of them out to someplace not kid-proofed is just crazy talk. But they can also magically get him to take a nap on a mat that has no confining bars so whatever.

All of the parents received permission slips to sign and return with the field trip fee. My reaction to the permission slip surprised me. I was instantly in shock. I am not old enough to be signing field trip permission slips. I am not old enough to have a kid that is old enough to go on a field trip. Right? Nope. I am old.

But then this morning I went to use my phone and the screen was all sticky from my little monster "texting" last night. So I am still young enough to have a kid young enough to have constantly sticky, grime covered fingers.

That's all I have to say for this Monday.