Wednesday, November 30, 2011

To sweat or not to hurt

Ok people, the train is off the track.  I am all of a sudden gaining weight.  At a pretty good clip too.  What's that you say?  The 127lbs of Thankgiving food I ate has something to do with it?  Pish posh.  Those meals are calorie free.  There is no way something so delicious should punish you.  Man, I love food.

I have noticed that the mornings after I work out (pssst...that is not every morning anymore), the red number of doom on the scale is higher than on days I don't work out.  Based on that, and the spiky rock in my butt cheek that appears the days after, I am thinkin' my leg is not back in fightin' shape.  I am thinking/hoping the higher number is because things are swelling in there because it STILL HASN'T FIXED ITSELF.

We are going on 5 months and my patience is done.  I had tucked it away in my running shoes to wait until my leg was ready to go.  But it got all cramped up and lonely in there and is being all up in my face about it.  And patience is not one to be tested, so I gave in and started back up with Jillian the Terror and running.  Silly patience should have eaten a few sock fuzzies to hold itself over a bit longer me thinks.

The real kicker...if I don't work out I feel all jiggly and tired.  If I do work out, I don't feel jiggly, but I have a spiky rock in my butt cheek and the scale makes me sad again.  At this point, I might be giving in to jiggly and tired.

Tuesday, November 29, 2011

Yay work!

Ever have to pee really badly, but you are super busy so you forget how badly you have to pee for like EVER until all of a sudden you have to go RIGHTFREAKINGNOW and you stand up to walk to the bathroom and your bladder is so swollen with pee that you appear to be well into your second trimester?

Happy heating season everyone.

Wednesday, November 23, 2011

Home is where the heart is.

The past month or so, about every couple of days, Alex will be upset about something and will start whining that he wants to go home.  Aside from the whining being annoying, the only problem with that is that we have been at home each time.  So one of us will say, But Alex, we are at home.  Only to elicit a bigger whine about wanting to go home.

Finally on Monday night, I asked him why he wanted to go home.  He said he wanted to see Jessica.  She is the director of the day care.  He thinks day care is home.  Yeeeeaaaahhh...Feelin' like a really great mom that totally spends plenty of time with her son.

I am happy that he loves it there so much it feels like home, but damn sure know how to hit where it hurts.

Tuesday, November 22, 2011

Total control

So we got home last night to find the dog had shredded two mini blinds.  Who knows guess?  The leaves were making too much noise, they were disrupting her sleep, and she needed to intimidate them into silence by showing off her power of destruction.  Now that it is as dark as midnight by 5pm, it was bothering me that the blinds could no longer do their job.  So I really wanted to change them.  But Alex really wanted to finger paint.  Guess whose want won.

While he was finger painting, he teasingly told me he was going to eat the paint off of his fingers.  I told him not to.  Which was stupid.  He is 2...when Mom says not to do something it is like lighting a firecracker under Do It!'s ass.  So he did it.  And immediately started gagging and in turn threw up.  Finger paint portrait ruined.

Shockingly, he didn't want to continued finger painting.  So I pulled a chair up to the sink so he could wash his hands and arms and belly.  At which point, I brilliantly thought that I could take this opportunity of him being occupied to hang some new mini blinds.  I got one of them hung and I came back in to check on him.

Everything appeared fine until he told me he needed to find the money.  Instantly my memory had a flash of a penny that was sitting on the window sill.  So I asked him where the money went.  "I eat it."  When I asked him if was serious, he assured me he ate it and that it was in his belly.  I took a deep breath and about 30 seconds to regroup and I innocently asked where he put the money.  "In my mouf."

In review, my dog shredded about $7 worth of mini blinds, my kid ate finger paint and puked only to later eat a penny.  And, no joke, we had been home for 45 minutes.  I did find the penny under his chair later.  So at least I won't have to look for it in a less than preferred place today.  Win?


Travis showed Alex that our shower head is one of those removable ones and you can use it like a sprayer.  So guess what bath time has evolved into.  Yep, a 2 year old standing in the bathtub, taking a shower.  Since I know he would stand in there until we ran out of hot water, I plug the tub when he gets in and once the water is deep enough, I turn off the shower and he can play in the tub.

In theory that is a very good idea.  In reality, it sucks.  I spend the first ten minutes diving behind the shower curtain in a sad attempt to avoid getting soaked while continually reminding him to keep the water in the tub, all while trying to wash this kid.  And it doesn't matter how agile and speedy I am with the shower curtain.  I end up getting soaked almost every time.  And it doesn't matter how long he gets to shower before it is time to turn the shower off.  He ends up screaming and clinging to the shower head hose while I pry his fingers off it almost every time.  About 1 in 5 times everything goes smoothly.  And that one time is enough to trick my brain into thinking this is still an ok idea.  Stupid brain.

I figure since Travis is the one that introduced him to the shower, he can be the one to cram his ass in our tiny bathroom and fight the shower fight.  That's fair right?

Monday, November 21, 2011

Yep, worth it.

Saturday morning I got up with Alex.  At 6:30.  In the morning.  On a Saturday.

We snuggled on the couch for a bit and then the inevitable...Mama, I want cakes.  Pleeeeeeease.  So off to the kitchen we went.  Alex is really really into helping lately.  Especially in the kitchen or any vacuuming that needs to be done ever anywhere anytime all the time.  So of course he pulled up a chair next to the stove so he could help me.  Which makes me incredibly nervous, so I put my foot up on the chair and put him on my hip/leg with an arm around him to keep him corralled and safely away from the burner.

He helped me stir the pancake batter and flip the first one.  And then, totally unsolicited, he looked up at me, gave me a huge hug and for the first time said, "I love you, Mama."

Pancake provoked statement or not, it was pretty awesome.

Friday, November 18, 2011

Killin' me.

Couple things about this pictures:

1.  Seriously, can you handle how cute this kid is?
2.  Do you see how tall he is?!?  He takes up almost the whole length of the tub!
3.  Those swim wings he's wearing?  Yeah, those would be the ones he flat out refused to put on all summer long.  Refused with limp body tantrums.  Pulled at them like they were burning his skin.  Last night...wouldn't get in the bath without them.

Thursday, November 17, 2011

Adventures of Office Kitty

This damn cat loves loves loves my chair.  The second I get up she/he jumps into my chair, curls up, and is magically instantaneously asleep.  And then I feel bad moving her/him.  She/he is just a lonely office kitty that didn't choose to live here.  Pretty sure she/he was someone's pet.  The idiot next door to our office found her/him, but didn't bother to ask around the campsite he was at to see if anyone was missing a cat.  And, said idiot isn't at his shop every day, so about half the time, Office Kitty doesn't have anywhere to get inside.  Which in turn makes me feel even worse about moving her/him.

Currently I am sitting on the forward most 3" of my chair with Office Kitty asleep behind me.  It does make me sit up straighter thank you for that Office Kitty.  Because of my better posture, I will let the fact that my ass is asleep slide this time.


I have been finding myself questioning what it's all about lately.  This usually happens on my way to work after dropping Alex off.  And almost always when it is a bad drop off.  When he is screaming and I am sad.  I find myself driving to work and thinking, What the hell are we all doing this for?  What is the point of it all?

I saw the following excerpt on Drink Your Juice and hot damn, THIS is what I am talking about.

I’m talking about the individual US citizen’s deep fear, the same basic fear that you and I have and that everybody has except nobody ever talks about it except existentialists in convoluted French prose. Or Pascal. Our smallness, our insignificance and mortality, yours and mine, the thing that we all spend all our time not thinking about directly, that we are tiny and at the mercy of large forces and that time is always passing and that every day we’ve lost one more day that will never come back and our childhoods are over and our adolescence and the vigor of youth and soon our adulthood, that everything we see around us all the time is decaying and passing, it’s all passing away, and so are we, so am I, and given how fast the first forty-two years have shot by it’s not going to be long before I too pass away, whoever imagined that there was a more truthful way to put it than “die,” “pass away,” the very sound of it makes me feel the way I feel at dusk on a wintry Sunday… And not only that, but everybody who knows me or even knows I exist will die, and then everybody who knows those people and might even conceivably have heard of me will die, and so on, and the gravestones and monuments we spend money to have put in to make sure we’re remembered, these’ll last what — a hundred years? two hundred? — and they’ll crumble, and the grass and insects my decomposition will go to feed will die, and their offspring, or if I’m cremated the trees that are nourished by my windblown ash will die or get cut down and decay, and my urn will decay, and before maybe three or four generations it will be like I never existed, not only will I have passed away but it will be like I was never here, and people in 2104 or whatever will no more think of Stuart A. Nichols Jr. than you or I think of John T. Smith, 1790 to 1863, of Livingston, Virginia, or some such. That everything is on fire, slow fire, and we’re all less than a million breaths away from an oblivion more total than we can even bring ourselves to imagine, in fact, probably that’s why the manic US obsession with production, produce, produce, impact the world, contribute, shape things, to help distract us from how little and totally insignificant and temporary we are.

David Foster Wallace, The Pale King

Kinda all around depressing, but whatchagonna do?  Keep on plugging along...and share depressing thoughts with people so you can all be sad and defeated together.  Yay!


The house next to us has been for sale for well over a year, and as of late has also been vacant.  Tuesday night, I came home and there was a moving truck in the driveway.  Yay!  and  OhgodIhopetheydon'tsuck!  Our backyards are right next to each other and if you are outside at the same time, it is very awkward if you don't at least say hello.  And if your neighbors suck, this situation would be even worse.

Anywho, they don't suck.  They are very nice.  Burt and Carlos.  A lovely couple from California.  But, when Burt introduced himself to Travis, Travis nicely said, "Great to meet you Kurt!"  And before I could correct him, Burt said, "Oh no, it's Burt.  You know, like Bert & Ernie."

And with that statement I immediately saw something that is going to terrorize me and I am positive eventually lead to a very embarrassing moment....They kinda look like Bert & Ernie.  I swear.  Burt is tall and skinny and has kind of a tall thin head.  And Carlos is shorter with a round face.

You guys...this is not good.  I am totally gonna call Carlos "Erinie".  I give myself a week.

House of Parrot

In an effort to make sure I am understanding the "words" coming out of my darling boy's mouth, I have acquired an incredibly annoying habit.  He says something, I repeat it, but with a question mark.

Alex:  I want ald khfoai hvfa norjf...pweeeeeeease.
Me:  You want another piece of ravioli?
Alex:  Yay-esssss.

Now, this wouldn't be too much of an issue..Well except for the people around us that have to listen to me constantly repeating my kid.  But here's the thing.  He has started to repeat everything I say now.  Remember that game we all played as kids where you would repeat everything someone else said to make sure you were annoying the ever loving shit out of them?  Yeah.  It's a lot like that.  Except in this version of the game I am not allowed to get annoyed because my kid is just imitating what he sees.  There is no malicious intent in this game.

I guess I should be happy he is making sure he understands what is going on around him and isn't just being a shit.  Silver lining, right?  Very thin silver lining.

Wednesday, November 16, 2011


My son is bipolar.  Or he is just a normal 2 year old lunatic.  Whatever.

We went from happily hanging out at home to screaming about getting in the car (complete with whacking me in the face) to playfully running into daycare to screeching and clawing at me while I tried to leave.  Multiply that by 2.5 and you have the last two mornings and one afternoon.

I get that he is a toddler.  I get there is a reason it's called the Terrible Two's.  I get that 3 years is even worse.  But man oh man would I like to be better at dealing.  I just wish I could get myself to not be so frustrated.  To not let it get to me and affect my entire day.  Admittedly, having a wrecking ball with legs screaming and flailing at you at 7:15 in the morning is not my ideal way to start my day, but c'mon Jackie.  Let's move past it.  He's 2.  You are a grown ass woman.

All that being said, I do not want to be a parent that just serenely ignores the tantrum and takes the mental and sometimes physical beat down.  I don't think that slowly and calmly and deliberately telling him his behavior is not ok is teaching him anything.  How will he gauge how it really feels for other people when you hurt them if I take all emotion out of my behavior?  Isn't that just setting him up for interpersonal failure?

What's that you say?  Happy medium?  Yeah, I'm workin' on it.

Tuesday, November 15, 2011

It's MY food kitty!

This afternoon, I had a very sincere conversation with the cat that lives in our office part time.  The conversation was regarding my lunch.  And that if she/he got any closer to it, she/he and I were going to throw down.  She/he meowed in response, so I told her/him that I was happy we could come to a civil agreement.

Not sure if this conversation is proof of my lack of ability to share food with anyone or anything, but I am sure that I am happy I was the only one in the office during said exchange.

Monday, November 14, 2011


I was kneeling on the floor next to Alex and he asked me to hold him.  So I went to scoot over and sit down so I didn't kill my knees.  And it was then that my knee bent his big toe backwards with pretty much all of my weight on it.  And I felt it crunch and roll.  And he started screaming and I felt sick.

I grabbed him and held him tight and asked if he was ok while apologizing profusely.  My mom and sister heard this all go down and were quickly on their way to the living room, pausing only to fulfill my yelled request of an ice pack.  I thought for sure I broke his toe.  He cried for a bit, but as usual, it was a pretty quick recovery.  Once he settled down, he absentmindedly grabbed my hand with his toes so I knew it wasn't broken, just a big owie.  You know, because his giant mom just squished his tiny toe.  Way to go, Mom.

A while later I said something to my mom and sister about feeling bad and they both said that when they heard me actually asking him if he was ok and not just telling him to shake it off, they knew something was really wrong.  See?  I am a totally compassionate and nurturing mother.  If it ain't broken, shake it off.


I have been doing a good job at cleaning up my dirty mouth in front of Alex.  I now employ an arsenal of Darn it!'s and Fudge!'s and Oh Sugar!'s.  Good good.

Yesterday we were at my parents' house and Alex asked for some chocolate.  Figuring there must be chocolate chips in the pantry, we went to get some.  As I was looking and moving things around I was naming off the things I was moving.  "We've got walnuts, oatmeal, sugar..."  Immediately my darling little boy says, "Oh sugar!"  Cute.

About 4 minutes later, he is out in the living room, "dropping" toy cars and exclaiming Oh SUGAR! with each one.  I am a glowing role model, no?

Wednesday, November 9, 2011

Totally Prepared

It's snowing.  Big flakes.  And the flakes are sticking.  To the ground and more importantly to my car.  Barf.  I realize I either need to move out of WI or get over the fact that winter is gonna come every stinkin' year, but I just can't.  Winter sucks.  It's cold and wet and wet and cold.  Every once in a while it's pretty.  Oh, and Christmas.  But other than that...full suckage.

Upon waking this morning, it was pouring rain.  So I sent Alex to day care in his usual jacket as of late..the zip-in part of his two part jacket.  I am sure they won't be going outside and even if they do, with mittens and a hat, he will be fine.  It just looks so bad to have a little monster running around in a thin liner the snow.

My lack of acceptance of the fact that winter in an unavoidable occurrence has posed another problem.  I had to take the ice/snow scraper out of my car a while back.  Not because it was gloriously not winter, but because Alex would always find it and then I had an armed 2 year old in the car with me.  Buckled into a car seat or not, that is not a situation in which I want to continually find myself.  So, I took it out and leaned it up against the garage wall so I would be smart and put it back in the car when there was snow in the forecast.  Guess what didn't happen?

I would love to continue to blame this on Alex and play the helpless victim of having a toddler in WI; alas, I cannot.  Yesterday, Alex saw the scraper and asked for it to come along with us.  And as scenes of scraper-whacked temples and shattered back windows raced through my mind, I said no.

So, to child is not wearing weather appropriate clothing and I have no snow removal utensils.  I am super good at being an independent adult.

Get away from me!

New goal.  I need to lose 6lbs by Christmas.  I would really like to lose 10 to get me to my -30lb mark that has been alluding me for so long.  But, the scale this morning revealed I am going backwards on that journey and I am now -20, not -26.  Lamesauce.

I am really hoping today's number is due to the extreme number of chocolate Halloween candies I consumed while chatting with Brent & Kari last night, and that with a little restraint the next day or so we can get things a little more in check.  However, the scale read out has been very slowly creeping away from -26 and was holding steady at about -23.  And then WHAM-O!...-20.  No good.

So, I am back to paying attention to portion sizes and swearing at Jillian.  Here's to hopin' my leg can keep up!
Aaaaand this is why they are building a taller wall between the toddler and big kid rooms...

Tuesday, November 8, 2011


Drop offs at day care have not been so good lately.  When I get lucky, his teacher is able to distract him with something in a spot where he can't see me leave.  When I don't get lucky, he screams and cries while clawing at my clothes or the door, if my mad dash to the door before he can reach me is a success.  On those days, I get to hear him screaming MAMAMAMAMAAAAAAAAA all the way out the front door.  Such a good way to start your day.

He did not sleep well last night, and was a bit emotional this morning before we left.  So I was expecting the worst drop off scenario.  Screaming, crying, limp body flailing.  But I found my saving grace.  When we walked in, one of the little girls was playing with the toy vacuum.  Alex immediately said he wanted it.  So we asked the little girl and she agreed that when she was done, he could have a turn.  My kid sat there watching her like a hawk stalking a mouse while she took her turn.  We avoided meltdown when she was prompt with bringing the vacuum to Alex as soon as she was done.  And that kid took off vacuuming every bit of carpet as fast as his little feet would carry him.

So, I went to leave and his teacher said, "Say good-bye to Mom, Alex."  He looked up with a giant smile, waved at me like a maniac and yelled, "Bye Mama!  Have good day!"  And immediately returned to the task at hand.  I think I am going to start bringing a toy vacuum everywhere I go.

Friday, November 4, 2011



That is how Alex says Yes now.  Every time.  With a sing song voice and a giant smile.  It's like he knows he has to do cute things every once in a while so I don't strangle him.  He's advanced like that.

Oh C'mon!

In today's edition of The World's Least Shocking News:

The shoes that I searched and searched for and finally found and ordered and waited for and was so excited once I got them for my child's ridiculously shaped feet, DO NOT FIT.

Wednesday, November 2, 2011

Couch Crashin'

Around midnight Alex decided he was done sleeping.  He wasn't happy about being done sleeping, mind you, he was just all done.  He wasn't happy about anything as a matter of fact.  Things that caused the continual meltdown to get worse and worse:  me not taking him out of his crib; once I took him out of his crib, me sitting with him in the rocking chair instead of him sitting there by himself; me not letting him walk to the refrigerator to get his milk and even worse, not letting him walk back to the chair.  It was bizarre.  Everything just made him scream and cry harder.  So finally I told him I would lay on the couch with him.

And that is where we "slept" for the remainder of the night.  As much as I love cuddling with him on the couch, the quality of sleep when this happens is no where in the same universe as anything acceptable.  I am exhausted and my back and my neck hurt.  Aren't you glad you checked in today?

Tuesday, November 1, 2011

So good at life

I just remembered I have two bags of oyster crackers for the chili for our pumpkin carving party...that was on Saturday.

How do you size a straightjacket?

Friday:  Alex's cough seems to be gone.
Saturday:  Cough revisits briefly, but then leaves.
Sunday:  Alex slams a bunch of juice and then coughs so hard he barfs all over his car seat.
Monday:  Cough seemingly on its way out.
Today:  If I have to say "cover your mouth please" one more fucking time, I just might maim my child.

Seriously, it is not a hard concept to grasp.  When you are expelling air and spit particulates from your mouth at Mach 7, put your hand over your mouth.  Also, when you have an insane woman saying "cover your mouth please" over and over and over to you, it's gonna stick in your mind.  If you can figure out when to exclaim Shit! at the appropriate time through simple observation, you can figure out when to cover your mouth.

I tried everything I could think of this morning.  Sweetly reminding, sternly asking, angrily losing my patience and yelling, acting goofy and crazy while dancing and singing a reminder for him to cover his damn mouth.  Nothin'.

This seems to be right in line with a new behavior.  Apparently my darling 2 year old has situational deafness.  Not a real thing you say?  I disagree.  That kid will be at my side within seconds of me opening a candy wrapper.  I.e., not deaf.  However, he will continue touching something I told him to stop touching while standing right next to him...suddenly deaf.  But obviously only deaf through active choosing.  And when this situation arises, and I get down on my knees and tell him to look at me in my feeble attempt of reversing the chosen deafness, he looks at me with this fabricated clueless expression and plainly says, "What."

I will tell you one thing..situational deafness for sure leads to temporary insanity.  I will keep you posted on its long-term side effects.  My projection:  full blown psychotic break.


Due to the fact that Alex has a great dad, he had a Halloween costume this year.  Superman has never looked better...

And yes, sometimes the Man of Steel needs to wear a hat and mittens.  Cold weather's super power ruining ability is right up there with Kryptonite.

He also got to play with some of his cousins this weekend.  Do you think they had any fun?