Monday, December 31, 2012

Happy Birthday

I was getting ready to go out for dinner and some drinks for my birthday on Saturday, and as I smeared the facial hair remover creme over my upper lip, the bathroom light caught my neck wrinkles juuuuuust right and that's when it hit me.  35 is totally my year.

Friday, December 28, 2012

Go to Sleeeeeep!!!

Bed time around the Julius house has gotten a wee bit out of control.  The beast can sense it coming and winds himself up tighter than a cymbal playing monkey on high powered batteries.  You can actually watch his inner silly ramp up minute by minute.  And unfortunately, he's really funny so his super mature parents are absolutely no help.

After Travis read him four stories, Alex announced he wanted me to lay down with him for a while.  I know it's probably a bad idea and it is definitely forming a bad habit, but I love this time with him.  He's usually snuggly and very chatty.  Last night he was super fidgety though too.  It was all I could do to keep him in bed.  First he forgot his tractor that he cannot go to sleep without.  Then he forgot his milk.  Then he wanted to say good night to Daddy.  Each time I protested, we discussed and he only won once.

As Travis was leaving the room, I asked if he would be so kind as to make some p-o-p-c-o-r-n.  I asked figuring he would wait more than .4 seconds to start, in order to give me a little time to soothe the wildebeest I was trying to keep in bed.  I figured wrong.

As the popcorn started popping, Alex asked me what that noise was.  I responded like any responsible parent responding to their child's inquisitive mind:  I don't know...Daddy's doing something.  Shockingly, he was fine with that answer.  And then the aroma hit his little nose.  His head snapped around and he looked at me shocked and asked what that smell was.  Again, I didn't know.  But he knew this time.  "I fink it's PAH - corn."  Again trying to quell this questioning, I said I didn't know.  Well, then we should ask Dad.  Since I had told him if he got out of bed again, I was taking his tractor away, he laid perfectly flat and yelled, "DAD ARE YOU MAKING PAH - CORN?!"  No answer.  "DAD!!!!  ARE. YOU. MAKING. PAH. CORN?"  When he heard that yes, indeed Travis was making popcorn, his eyes lit up!  "I want some!"

I really didn't feel like engaging in this dog fight, so I asked Travis to bring a small bowl.  After he had it for 3 seconds, he informed me he had to get up and give it to Daddy, because, "I fink he's hungry."  That is very sweet kiddo, but you best keep your little butt in bed.  Nice try though.  Good.  Night.

Thursday, December 27, 2012


I was all set to write a big ol' post about Christmas and smashing into a tree whilst sledding, but people are making me work today.  How dare they?!?

This is a pretty good summary of Alex's feelings about Christmas:

I think he liked it.

Friday, December 21, 2012

I'm pretty sure only my dog is a big enough ass hat to run away in the middle of a blizzard.  Whatever.  Alex and Travis found her.  And I suppose I should thank her since their little dog hunt was the only time one or the other of them wasn't throwing snowballs at me while I was shoveling.


Anyone sick of hearing about the snow yet?  Too bad!  It started snowing around 9 on Wednesday night and kept on a-goin' until about 8:30 last night.  Grand total of 15.2".  The .2 that the news reports reminds me of little kids (and me) saying they are 3&3/4, but every little bit counts I suppose.

Anywho, Alex is lovin' the snow.  He came out and "helped" us shovel a couple times.  The second time he pretty much just threw snowballs at me until he got cold and wanted to go in.  The first time he lasted a bit longer.  His job was to carry the poker thingy that you use to unclog the snow chute on the snow.blower.  So basically he just followed Travis around.  Travis using the snow blower and Alex poking holes in the snow with the unclogger wand thingy until he had to reluctantly give it up momentarily so Travis could use it.

Once he was bored with that game he came to terrorize me.  I was shoveling the sidewalk inside the fence and he instantly transformed into a mini foreman and started instructing me where to shovel the snow.  It took me a sec to get what he was trying to get me to do, but shortly after I figured it out, he had his own little snow hill to slide down on his butt.  Not only was I instructed to shovel the snow from the sidewalk onto this hill, but I was also expected to go around the backyard scooping snow and bringing it back over to make the hill bigger.  With every shovelful I threw on top, I'd hear the same command..."Bigger."

I'm pretty sure that's the definition of a mother's love.  Shoveling snow from the yard that by no means needed to see a shovel into a four foot hill for your son to climb up and slide down.  Yep.  That's love.  My arms and back are angrily reminding me how much love I showed my son yesterday.  But, I'll tell ya.  Even if he had just slid down it once, it would have been worth it just to see him beam like that because of something I built for him.

It didn't hurt that I got an ovation from the neighbor upon snow hill completion either.

Wednesday, December 19, 2012

Monday, Tuesday, December

Alex is learning the days of the week and the months of the year at school.  But he hasn't quite figured it out.  So the other day when he asked me what day it was and I told him it was Thursday, he informed me, "No, Mom, it's December."

So not only was he asking me something in a blatant attempt to prove how smart he is, he was wrong.  AND he would not listen to any amount of explanation to get him to the correct answer.  I'm just gonna go ahead and apologize in advance to any and every teacher this child has.

Smart Teeth

So, I'm doing it.  I'm getting my wisdom teeth removed.  I haven't scheduled it yet, but I have filled out all the paperwork and had all the X-rays.  Only two of the three are being evicted...but that still means I am having two giant teeth pulled out of my head.  Gross.

I went yesterday to get the last X-ray I needed.  There was a mishap with the scheduling of my appointment so I ended up sitting in the waiting room for just shy of a half hour with three other patients.  Three other patients and their mothers, because the other patients were all teenagers because that is when normal people get their wisdom teeth removed.

So, I got to sit there staring at three fresh faced teenagers feeling like an old lady late bloomer.  This is just turning out to be a super fun experience!

Monday, December 17, 2012

Two things

1.  Window clings don't stick to cold windows very well.  Good times.

2.  It's apparently a crap shoot when you buy unknown book titles from Scholastic.  And sometimes you lose.  Yesterday's book is currently in the recycling.  I had kinda skimmed through the books when I wrapped them, but this one didn't raise any flags.  Most likely because I didn't read to the end.

The book is Never Ever Shout in a Zoo.  Solid advice right?  'Cause, as the book points out, if you shout at the zoo,  you may frighten the animals.  But then it goes on to tell you that if they are frightened, they will be able to bust out of their cages, go on an all animal inclusive rampage, and finish the day by locking you and your family in a cage...where you'll want to shout for help...but we all know what happens then.

Ummm...was this thing written by some weird ass coalition against zoos?  I'm all for kids being respectful of animals that we have decided to cage up for our own amusement, but do we have to scare the ever loving crap out of kids to teach that?

Based on reviews of the book, I'm the only one that feels this way.  Whatever.  I'm cool with being a loner on this one.  Aaaand, throwing it and picking a new one puts my book countdown one day closer to actual Christmas!  Ha!


Travis had to clean out his car on Saturday and I was out being a good little elf, so he let Alex putz around in the car while he cleaned.  Alex made out great on the deal.  Travis always has a ton of loose change in his car.  And when Alex is putzing around in there, he usually comes back in the house with a pocket full of money.  Since Trav's new car doesn't have a tape deck, all of the pirated booty made the journey out of the car.

I was home when they were going through his treasurers from the car.  They had everything laid out on the coffee table and were separating coins from paper clips from gum wrappers.  After everything was sorted, I overheard this:

Travis:  Should we get your piggy bank from your room and put this money in it?
Alex:  Yep!  So I can buy KitKats!

Step 1 to successful money management:  Set reasonable goals.  Done and done.

Friday, December 14, 2012


I get all happy and excited when Alex tells me he loves me.  And rightfully so, right?  But I gotta admit, he loves everything lately.  I would be lying if I said it didn't sting a little last night when he proclaimed three different times that he loves pot pie...with way more enthusiasm than his stock, "I love ya, Mom."

Thursday, December 13, 2012


Who's got a plan to become independently wealthy that they are willing to share with me?  Because this working thing is for the birds.

Wednesday, December 12, 2012


We opened a new book last night before bed like we have been doing each night of December.  I numbered the books so we could use them as a countdown.  And I make Alex tell me what number is on the book.  Last night, Travis happened to be in the living room for this little ritual.  

Alex picked up the book, I asked him what numbers were on it, he responded, "a 1 and a 6."  To which I agreed, let him know when they are written together like that it's a 16, and proceeded to say, "So there are 16 more days until Christmas."  I thought nothing of it since I was confident in my ability to number books from 25 to 1.  Travis looked at me funny and inquired, "...but...isn't today the 11th?"  Yes, yes it is.  

I don't know where I went wrong.  I don't know if I labeled the books incorrectly or if I have forgotten to have him open a book two different nights over the past 11.  Either way, apparently I am planning on having Christmas on the 27th this year.  You can all change your plans accordingly.

Monday, December 10, 2012


Remember when I let Alex stick a bunch of stickers on the window in the car?  Yeah, I finally got around to unsticking those stickers.  Not nearly as fun as it sounds.  I ordered some window clings for him to use instead.
Alphabet Window Clings

Emoticons Window Clings; 12 x 17; no. EU-836033

Using these two pictures on Amazon as my guide when ordering, I figured the faces would obviously be a smidge bigger than the letters, but still a manageable normal size.  I'm not sure if my eyeball gaugers are off, or if that picture is misleading, but those faces are huuuuuuge.

Exhibit A:

Yeah....that's a legal pad next to it for size reference.  These are some big ol' smileys!

Friday, December 7, 2012

Jolly Ol' St. Nick

If the level of excitement brought on by getting presents in his stocking from St. Nick is any sort of indicator to how excited he is going to be about bigger presents from Santa, we are in for a very dramatic Christmas morning.

Every single item was taken out of his stocking with a gasp, followed by careful inspection and then shock at how cool it was that St. Nick got him stuff he likes.

"AhhhhhhhhHHHHH!  A monster truck?!  M&N's??  KitKat?? MORE M&N'S?!?!?"

Raisin' Him Right

This morning, I dressed Alex in this shirt:
And then we listened to The White Stripes on the way to day care.

I might be accidentally creating a little hipster...or the coolest kid this side of the Mississippi.

Tuesday, December 4, 2012


What chu want for Christmas?

Monday, December 3, 2012

Making impressions

Alex and I went to the park near our house for a while on Sunday.  When we got there, there were three other kids.  All very nice.  And then, a bad one showed up.  He lives right near the park, he's six, and I do not like him.  He's the type of kid that makes fun of a three year old because he can't traverse the monkey bars without help.  The fact that it was my three year old definitely didn't help matters.

Alex, the bad one, and a different little boy were playing on the merry-go-round.  Alex was sitting in the middle and the two older ones were pushing.  But then of course the bad one had to prove he was stronger than the other kid, so he started pushing the opposite direction.  Since this left Alex sitting motionless in the middle of the merry-go-round, he climbed off to join the fight, to which I quickly said no.  I told him if all three boys wanted to work together and push, that's fine, but I didn't want him engaging in this weird muscle-off.  With that, the bad one flopped on the ground and rolled around a bit while proclaiming, "I hate my life." You're 6.  Don't stress.  It'll get worse.

Any way, these boys were also spouting off about how old they were.  The good one was 5&1/4, the bad one 6&3/4.  The mom of the good one asked me how old Alex is.  And did I reply with a simple 3?  No, I blurted out, "He'll be 4 in June."  I quickly realize how ridiculous that was since it's only, you know, DECEMBER, so I tried to backtrack by saying, "So, he's 3&1/2...since we' going by fractions."

No, Jackie, we aren't going by fractions.  The children are.  Pretty sure I impressed her and we will be life long best friends.

Ho Ho No

Friday evening, Alex's day care had a Christmas party for the families.  They made dinner for all of us, had a couple different craft tables set up, and Santa came.  They had Santa in a room with a camera set up to get pictures of the kids sitting on his lap.  Travis took Alex and his little friend in to see Santa.  His friend was all about it.  She climbed right up, talked to Santa and gave a super cute pose for the camera.  My kid?  Wasn't having any of it.  No way, no how was that kid sitting on Santa's lap.

So we went to the crafts. First up:  decorating cookies.  Or, as it ended up, mom smearing frosting on a couple cookies and cramming them in her mouth while running after Alex and whatever car he was zooming. Then we went to the table where you could make reindeer food.  There was a big tub of oats and a big tub of brown sugar and a shaker of edible glitter.  The instructions informed us that reindeer love oats and sugar, and the glitter was in there so when you put the food out in the yard for the reindeer, the glitter would sparkle in the moon light so the reindeer could see where to go.  Alex was all about that.  He whipped up a bag of reindeer food and took off like greased lightning.

He ran straight to Santa, ignored the fact that there was a child currently sitting on his lap and talking to him, thrust the bag in Santa's face and yelled, "I MADE FOOD FOR YOUR REINDEER!"  Apparently he just needed something to offer Santa to rid him of any Santa reservations.

A bit later, one of the teachers asked him if he sat on Santa's lap.  When he said no, she asked him how Santa was supposed to know what to bring him if he didn't go tell him.  He looked at her plain as day and said, "You can tell him, Kathy."

Thursday, November 29, 2012


I was laying down with Alex last night, trying to get him to settle down and sleep.  But he had important and exciting things on his mind.  Santa is coming.

The amount of spit that flew out of his mouth while he frantically told me Santa is coming!  And he's bring trains!  And train tracks!  And toys! was insane.  I felt like I needed one of those medical face shield things.  No, not one of the surgical of these:  

Ok, kiddo, please go on about Santa, I'm ready.


Alex had a play date last night.  Which is nice for both of us.  He gets to play with his friend, and I get to have a glass of wine with my friend!  Play dates are some of the times I am so thankful we turned our front porch into his playroom.  All of his toys are out there, so it gives them some time to just be kids and us some time to be normal adults.

Last night, I kinda wished the toys were a little closer so I could have reached my darling child faster when I heard him yelling, "Kill!  Kill!  Kill!" while aiming his helicopter at his train track.  Yeah.  That happened.  The helicopter is currently residing on a very high shelf in a closet.

The thing I don't understand is where these things come from.  We didn't have any shoot-outs in our house, but last year, he all of sudden was running around with his fingers in a gun formation and Pew!Pew!Pew!-ing the dog.  And we obviously aren't exposing him to anything that would show helicopters blowing up train tracks and killing people, yet there we were.

Are boys just born with this shit in their brains, set to leak out on a specific time release?  Or I am raising a serial killer?  Pleasebebornwithit.Pleasebebornwithit.Pleasebebornwithit.

Wednesday, November 28, 2012

Hugs & Love & Stuff

Alex's hugs are getting better and better, and last night was no exception.

After reading books, he usually places his request for me to sleep with him.  Which is then whittled down to me just laying with him for a bit.  However, if you'll recall, he currently sleeps on a crib mattress on the floor.  He's small, but when I lay on that mattress with him, I have to contort myself in such a way it makes it next to impossible to get up without waking him up if he falls asleep.  Since I am not a circus performer, I end up laying on his Cars futon.  I'm sure that futon is quite cushiony if you are a 40lb toddler.  But when you are a whole-lot-more-than-40lb adult, cushiony it is not.  And most nights, he decides sleeping on his mattress is not acceptable because it is multiple inches away from me and how is he supposed to be able to roll over and smash me in the face with his wildly flailing head that way?...and he snuggles up next to me on the futon.

Last night, as we laid all smooshed up on the futon, he asked me to give him back scratches.  I knew I had a jagged nail.  I knew this becaase I felt it earlier, but just couldn't gather the focus to go get a file and fix it.  With the knowledge of this jagged spear at the end of my finger, I opted to rub his back instead of scratch it.  He immediately spun around to look at me and inform me those were  not scratches; those were pets.  Well, excuuuUUuusse me, Mr. Knowseverythingaboutbackscratches.  Turn around Your Highness, the scratches will commence.  Please be sure to let me know if they do not reach the level of excellence you expect and deserve.

But, as my hip and shoulder were getting sore from laying on 1" of the most easily flattened foam ever, Alex started wiggling all around again.  Before I could tell him to lay still, he slid his little right arm under my neck and wrapped his left arm around my shoulder and gently rubbed my back.  And if that wasn't enough to melt my heart, he whispered, "Mom?  I love ya.  I love ya."

And with that, I forgot all about him putting his foot through the insulating plastic I had just finished putting up  on his windows before bed time.  He's slick that one.

Tuesday, November 27, 2012

Oh, I'm sorry, did you need some toilet paper?  I didn't realize since you didn't call it by it's proper name.  It's "Paper Toiwet."  Don't get it twisted.


Alex finally got a real haircut.  Like at a salon and everything.  No more of me wrestling him and a clippers all while trying to keep hair off of the KitKat prize.  So, off to JCPenny's we went.  Being the brilliant person I am, I called on Friday...yep, this last Friday...Black Friday.  But, they had an opening and we found a killer parking spot.  Two outta three so far!

I was very very nervous about this whole ordeal.  Sometimes he's good with strangers, but other times, not so much.  And I figured since this particular stranger was going to make him sit in a weird chair and put a cape on him and then arm herself with scissors, this may be a one of those not so much times.  Luckily this lady was very nice and didn't judge me for fake-excitedly telling her this was Alex's first haircut!  The first time someone other than Mama has cut it!  And he's never sat in a chair like this!  And let's all act super excited so he doesn't freak out!

He was so so so good.  He sat still and didn't freak out.  He listened to her and paid attention when either of us gave him instructions.  He apparently like her...he invited her to ride horses at Grandma's house.  And when she asked how she would get there, he assured her there was room in his daddy's car for her too.  When all was said and done, he got a super cute $14 haircut and a cherry sucker to boot!

Here is where I should put a picture of how cute he looked in that cape on the barber's chair, because holy man did he look cute.  A good mom would have a picture to put here.  To show off how cute and well behaved her child was.  Yeeeeah, about that.  I am an idiot and taking a picture of this milestone didn't even cross my mind once.  Until Lora asked to see how cute he was.

Don't mind me.  I'm just over here adjusting my Mother of the Year award.  It got a little crooked.

Tuesday, November 20, 2012

See ya!

Alex will not leave day care without saying good-bye to all of his friends.  Hugs, kisses, waves.  Or sometimes just a general "Bye guys!" belted out from the door.  But if there is someone in the parking lot at the same time we are?  No holds barred.

If he isn't buckled in yet, he clamors out of his seat and runs over to hug whatever unsuspecting child is in sight.  If he is buckled, he zips down his window and starts maniacally waving while yelling...I kid you not, he yells the same thing every single time..."BYE!  SEE YOU MONDAY!"

Monday, November 19, 2012

Sherlock I'm not

So, remember the other day when I was all sad Half Price Books didn't have a copy of Green Eggs & Ham?  Turns out I didn't need to be sad because we already have it.  Yep.  Right there on Alex's bookshelf.  It's a collector's edition and everything.  It's just been hangin' out for I don't know how long, waiting for me to find it, all the while with me telling my child we can't read the book he really wants to read because we don't have it.

Kickin' ass and takin' names.


We have some games on our tab thingy that Alex really likes.  Fruit Slice, Angry Birds, Toilet Paper Drag.  He's getting pretty good at them and his reactions to losing and winning are hilarious.  The sounds with the games get a little old though.  Fruit Slice isn't so bad; I can get behind some Samurai sword action.  But those damn pigs grunting on Angry Birds and the music that goes with the timer of the toilet paper game are enough to make me crazy.

It was just the beast and me yesterday.  Heaven forbid Travis's work would let them have a day off for Thanksgiving without making them work a different day!  Anyway, Alex and I were having a good day.  Not that a day that starts with grilled cheese for breakfast has any chance at being a bad day, I mean really.

Alex was doing a really good job of taking breaks and going to the bathroom without being told all day. One of those times, I was proudly standing in the kitchen, reflecting on our incredible child and impressive parenting skills.  And that's when I realized that incredible child had been in the bathroom for quite some time.  And that's when I noticed the song he was singing.  It was the same obnoxious song from the toilet paper game.  I peeked in just in time to see him come to the end of the toilet paper roll, jump up, fists raised high, with a "YES!" and a little victory bounce on the huge pile of unrolled toilet paper.

At least he didn't shred it like the dog does when she unrolls it.

Thursday, November 15, 2012

Growing Up

Since Alex started talking, he has called any sort of emergency vehicle a "wee-ooo-wee-ooo."  Every fire truck, police car, ambulance.  "Look Mom!  A wee-ooo-wee-oo!"

Last night we were on our way home and we passed a police car that had someone pulled over.  A zillion red and blue lights were strobing and from the back seat I hear, "Look!  An officer!"  And my heart broke just a little bit.  In that sentence, he was all of a sudden a little boy, not a baby.

Wednesday, November 14, 2012

Merry Bookmas

I realized the other night, Alex's little library needs some serious updating.  I'd say at least 7/8 of his books are geared toward kids no older than 2.  Older than 2 he is.  Also, he is bored of his books and is now asking for books they read at day care.  Like last night when I asked him what books he wanted to read and got a response of, "Sam I Am!  Green Ham Eggs!  Sam and Eggs!"  We needs us some new books.

I heard/saw/read/Idon'tknowwherethisisfrom about an idea for Christmas times.  Instead of an Advent calendar, you get a new book every day.  I'm pretty sure wherever it was I saw this idea, it was proposed as a way to not give kids a whole calendar of chocolate.  I don't really think 1 tiny piece of crappy chocolate a day is going to ruin a child.  I'm more concerned with why we feel we need to schedule our chocolate consumption.  Moving on.

I am on a mission to find, buy, and wrap 25 books.  Which, if one is not careful, can be a pricey task.  Lucky for me, his daycare participates in Scholastic Book Club.  Almost all of the books are paperback, but a literary snob I refuse to raise; paperback will be just fine.  I found 20 or so books to order in this month's flyer, and a quick trip to Half Price Books rendered 4 Dr. Seuss books.  They didn't have a copy of Green Eggs & Ham, but I figure they'll probably get a copy in sometime before December 25th.


By the way, the green light day was apparently only a one day sale.  Bright side?  We got in on the sale while it was there!  Down side?  The Brown Elephant Blanket is currently squirreled away until behavior shapes up.

I still can't get over how devastated he is when I take that blanket away, and it still isn't quite enough for him to remember to control his freaking hands every day.  I asked his teachers if we could just tape his arms to his body.  When they cried child abuse, I clarified I only wanted to tape his upper know, so he still had use of his arms from the elbow he would only have the reach of a tiny TRex.  Turns out they still think that would be child abuse.  Damn.


On the way home last night, Alex was quietly talking to himself and every couple of words he was making a clucking/clicking sound with his tongue.  It went on for quite some time.  I figured Umi Zoomi has been taken over by an African tribe, and they are teaching him Xhosa when I am out of the room.

Turns out he was trying to mimic the sound of the drum beat in the song that was on the radio and the quiet "talking" was really him singing along but not knowing the words.  I haven't confirmed Umi Zoomi's language teachings yet...

Tuesday, November 13, 2012

Cousin Time

We had some Californian company this past weekend.  And while they wanted to see Alex, we all wanted to go out and play Saturday and not have to worry about coming home at a specific time for a babysitter, and most of all not have to worry about getting up the next morning.  Off to Platteville the beast child went!

I have to say, I love the days leading up to him going to Platteville.  I can get him to do just about anything when I have the promise of that trip in my back pocket.  I try not to use it as an absolute consequence though, 'cause that would be a bit of a bitch to have to follow through on.  When I told him he was going, and was going all by himself, he responded with a fist pump and "yesssssssssssssssssss."

He had a great time as always and was crazy well behaved.  While I was very happy he was good for them, I couldn't help but let a little bit of huge frustrated jealousy sneak in that he was good for them, but such an insufferable ass for me.  According to his aunt and uncle, that's a sign of good parenting.  I think they're just trying to ease the burn a little.

Apparently, he did not keep his hands to himself the whole time though.  On Sunday morning he was playing with the boys and landed one of his patented Drive by Whackings on his cousin's arm.  His cousin that has two brothers.  Brothers who all beat the crap out of each other all the time like typical brothers.  Yeah.  That cousin didn't exactly tolerate a Drive by Whacking, and got in a good shove before Alex got away.  Alex immediately ran to his uncle to tattle.  His uncle had seen the whole thing and just plainly said, "Well, you hit him...that doesn't really fly around here."

Now it's my turn...fist pump and yesssssssssssssssssssssssss.


He did it!!  He was on the green light when I picked him up yesterday!!!  Lots of exclamation points!!!!

His teachers were so excited to tell me.  Like more excited than people should be that a child managed to not be an asshole for one day.  That is the brink to which he has pushed all of us.  One day of listening and not smacking everyone he sees and we are all positively glowing.

Monday, November 12, 2012

Monday smiles

A tiny candy corn sticker on the floor of your office after falling off of whatever piece of clothing your 3 year old snuck it onto.

I'll take things to make you smile on an insanely busy Monday, Mr. Trebek.

Thursday, November 8, 2012

Is today gonna be the day?  The day that his name stays on the green light?  I'm not holdin' my breath, but I am mentally planning the fanfare if it does happen.  Lots of praise, high-fives, and a whole bucket of Brown Elephant Blanket.

Wednesday, November 7, 2012

Just one of them days

I have days when all I want is to be as far away from Alex as possible.  But then I have other days.  Days when it actually hurts my heart if I focus on the fact that I don't get to be with him all day.  Days when all I really really want is to snuggle him and play with him and giggle with him.  Today is one of those days.

It doesn't hurt that after a particularly difficult night last night, he snuggled up to me on the couch this morning and said, "You're my best, Mom."  Best friend?  Best food giver?  Best butt wiper?  I don't know and I don't care.  I just snuggled in a little closer and told him he's my best too.

Tuesday, November 6, 2012

The acorn and the tree

Alex has a pretty weak stomach just like his mama.  If something goes in that his belly remotely doesn't like, out it comes.  If he coughs too hard?  Vomit.  If he gets too wound up?  Vom dot com.  Last night was no exception.

After dinner he and Travis were playing in the living room while I was cleaning up.  And just as I smiled to myself about how sweet the sound of a child's maniacal laughter can be, I heard a cough.  And not just any cough...but the tell tale cough.  The second I heard it I declared it was gonna be a puker.  Within 10 seconds, the laughter stopped and Alex came sprinting through the kitchen in a mad dash to get to the bathroom.  Alas, he didn't quite make it.  So splat on the floor went dinner.

As I was consoling him and placing his head in the garbage can to make sure the rest of dinner didn't end up on the kitchen floor, from the couch I hear, "Did he make a mess?"  Ummm...yes, Einstein, there is a mess.  The retching and splattering and consoling about not making it to the bathroom didn't quite all add up for ya, huh?

As I was cleaning that up, Alex headed back into the living room, and I head one more cough.  I stood up just in time to see him running toward me, puke, and in turn slip and know, due to the freaking puke.

And while I was stripping Alex and trying to clean up that mess, Travis pipes up with, "Dude...he totally gets that from you."  I never thought I would be happy to have my hands full with a vomit-covered child, but at that moment, I'm pretty sure it kept me out of jail.

Monday, November 5, 2012

I quit.

In the past two weeks I have purchased and returned 4 pairs of shoes that didn't fit my little Cinderella's feet.  Four.  Saturday morning Travis took Alex to run some errands so Mama could sleep off Friday night.  They made three stops:  Farm N Fleet, Famous Footwear, the french fry store (McDonald's to you commoners).  Did you see only one of those stops was for shoes?  Only one.  And they found a pair that fits him and he likes them.  ONE STOP.

They are pretty obnoxious and light up on the tongue, the two spots on the toe of the shoe, and both of those round spots on the sole, on EACH SHOE, but his fat little feet are covered.  I am just seriously pissed that one freaking stop and those boys get done what I have been trying to accomplish in waaaay more stops and two weeks time.  Whatever.  I'll be done pouting soon.

Progress...I think.

The youngest member of our family has not mastered waking up to pee throughout the night.  We'll get there.  But recently, he has been waking up immediately after he pees.  Then I hear, "Mom!  I need you!"  And down the stairs I trudge to find him very unhappy and pulling his soggy diaper off.  At 4:30, this morning was no different.  But the problem this morning was that we were out of diapers.  But that didn't stop him from ripping off his "disgusting soaking" diaper.  So I put a blanket down on his bed and hoped for the best.

When my alarm went off at 6:10, I heard some rustling around downstairs and just assumed Travis hadn't left yet.  When I finally got my lazy ass up and headed downstairs, I was met at the bottom of the steps by a naked, very proud, Mr. Alex.  I asked him what he was doing up.  He announced he got up because he "just had to go potty a little bit...and poop."

As he was running for the couch and his blankets, I asked him how long he had been awake.  "Ummm...just about $40."  Ok.  Sure.  It's 6:30 in the morning; I'll take dollars as a measurement for time.  But just so we're clear, if I find pee on the wall, you owe me 7:15 and 2 purple kangaroos.

Thursday, November 1, 2012

Drinks 2012!

The extent of the political leanings that will be posted on this blog....

Get out there and vote!  And as they say, Vote Early!  Vote Often!


Last night was trick or treat in Madison.  Which meant Mr. Alex got to go trick or treating twice.  He was as excited to go last night as he was on Sunday.  So we headed out with our neighbors and their daughter Harper, and Cahwareah (Claire) and Addy.  Travis generously offered a traveling beverage to our neighbor, but stared blankly at me when I reminded him that I, his wife, also enjoy alcoholic beverages.  Nice.

Anywho, the kids had a blast running around the neighborhood, and listening to Alex say/sing "twick or tweeEEaat!" and then scream "THANK YOU!" at each neighbor kinda won me over on Halloween.  That and the fact that I didn't have to dress up and just got to stand on the sidewalk and make sure he was polite.

Once the sun went down, the parents were cold and done with trick or treating so we headed home.  Alex was immediately just as excited to hand out candy as he was to walk around gathering it.  Our storm door opens out, but our front stoop is pretty small, so the kids would have to come up to the stoop, ring the bell and then back away for the door to open, only to come back up to get the candy.  Instead of that circus, Travis just takes the window out of the door and hands out candy that way.  I'm not sure if that is what triggered it, but Alex instantly started calling the trick or treaters, "customers."  Each and every time someone came to the door, he would go running to the door yelling, "Dad!  We have more customers!"  One time he was in the bathroom and heard Travis talking to some kids and he came running out with his pants around his ankles, looking excitedly desperate and just kept saying, "Customers?  Customers!"

Travis got the brilliant idea to trick the kids coming to our house.  So each time some kids came to get candy, Travis would say, "Oh man, I'm sorry...we ran out of candy a while ago, but I have some carrots for you!" and would offer a big bowl of carrots.  And as the kids were sadly/confusedly/begrudgingly reaching for a carrot he would own up that he was just kidding and offer the candy.  Every. Single. Time.

In touch with his emotions...

Upon arrival at daycare this morning, Alex announces, "My feelings my leg."

Wednesday, October 31, 2012


Happy Halloween!

Cousins trick or treating...

 Their fearless leader...
 Three eyed pumpkin?  Sure!


I am currently driving around with $80 worth of shoes that do not fit my child and are awaiting return.  Eighty.  Dollars.  All three pairs are the same size as the shoes he is currently wearing, but magically those fits and these do not.  Lamesauce.

I didn't think this whole issue really bothered Alex since I am not dumb enough to try to take him to the store to try on shoes.  I realize this would eliminate the buying/trying/returning cycle I'm in, but that little dance is a cakewalk compared to bringing him with me.  Trying to contain him upon entry to the store and in turn make him try on shoes in the store, I imagine is quite similar to herding 13 cats high on catnip into one undersized carrier.  Neither thing seems worth the effort.

Anyway, aside from having to sit still for 32 seconds in the comfort of his home while his mother tries to stuff his sausage feet into shoes, he hasn't really been inconvenienced by this debacle.  But, apparently he is very sensitive to the amount of energy I have expended trying to find suitable footwear.  Last night, as the fear of zero pairs of shoes fitting him became a reality, he just looked up at me and said, "Ugh...Seriously?!?"  Took the words right outta my mouth kiddo.

Tuesday, October 30, 2012


Our neighbor brought over his dog to play with Aiden for a bit last night.  While they were running around like wildebeests, Alex asked if he could get them a treat.  And then quickly changed his mind.  Not a dog treat, Cheez-Its.  Because every dog deserves a Cheez-It every now and then right?

He grabbed a snack cup full of ABC Cheez-Its and stood at the top of the back steps.  And then he just started calling for the dogs while throwing crackers over the railing at them like he was throwing popcorn to pigeons.

Cheez-Its launched wildly at dogs.  Sounds about right for an evening in the Julius backyard.

Tarnished Star

Well, Monday proved to not be the brightest day for the Star of the Week.  Not only did his lame mom not have any pictures for his poster ("This is me!" - blank, "This is my family!" - blank, "This is my pet!" - blank) and write the wrong age in, but the star himself had an awful day.

I'm pretty sure I'm the first mom to pick up her star and have his name on the red light.  One bonus of being the star is that you get to be line leader.  You get a little badge and everything.  Not my kid.  He lost that privilege due to lack of listening.  And he and another kid had a hard time keeping their hands to themselves. Shocking news all around.

We talked a lot about his behavior and how to change it, his brown blanket got taken away, and we made sure to turn up the volume on his listening ears to HIGH this morning.  Here's to hopin' he's still the line leader.

Monday, October 29, 2012

Star of the Week

Alex is the star of the week.  I, of course, didn't take the poster with this weekend, so this morning I was frantically coloring in little stars and circles and filling in the blanks for his favorite food, favorite color, what he wants to be when he grows up, his age.  Yeah...I put 4 for his age.  He's not 4.  He's 3.

Looks like the Star of the Week doesn't have that stellar of a mom.  Niiiiiice.


My brains are fried.  Last weekend was great if you only gauge it on how well Alex and his cousins got along and how much fun they had together.  If, however, you are gauging it on my darling little boy's behavior toward me, great doesn't really come to mind.  Unless you are thinking of great amounts of mom-style anger.

His attitude toward me can be summed up in one sentence...

He literally spit in my face at the pumpkin patch.

Yep, that happened.  He spit in my face as a response to me scolding him for running into a parking lot.  And while I silently carried him, he kept telling me that he spit in my face.  My rage was only superseded by the amount of strength it took for me to not beat the ever loving snot out of him right then and there.  We reached the hay bail his jacket was sitting on just as he said it again, and I broke my silence to tell him that was exactly why we were leaving that instant.  And the crying fit began.

I wrestled him into his car seat and as I was backing out he cried again that he wanted to stay.  I slammed on the brakes, spun around and very loudly informed him that due to his poor decision making he no longer gets what he wants.  The crying continued, so as I pulled out of the parking lot, I told him I didn't want to hear anymore crying and that he needed to sit in his seat and think about why I was so upset.  He clearly has yet to learn to admit nothing since he sat there rattling off different things he had done throughout the day that had upset me.  Way to add fuel to the fire that's burning your ass kiddo.

Friday, October 26, 2012

spinning spinning spinning CRASH! spinning spinning spinning THUNK! spinning spinning spinning  OOF!

Add two Oreos and you've got the scene in my living room for the first 15 minutes we were home last night.

He's gifted.

Thursday, October 25, 2012

No I don't, yes I do.

Me:  Alex do you want to count for me to start the car?  (Like you do every single time.)
Alex:  Nope.
Me:  You sure?
Alex:  I don't want to.
Me(knowing damn well he wants to):  So you don't want to count for me?
Alex:  No, I don't want to.
~I start the car~
Alex:  MOOOOOOM!  I wanted to count!!!
This was followed by him crying the entire way home because I wouldn't turn the car off, let him count, and then start the car again.

Alex:  Mom?  Can I have some blueberries?
Me:  We don't have any blueberries, but we have this red pepper we grew in the garden.  Do you want that?
Alex:  Oh yes please!
~He takes a bite~
Alex:  Mom?  I don't want the seeds in it.
Me:  Ok, but I will have to cut it in half to get all the seeds out.  Is it alright if I cut it in half?
Alex:  Yep!
~I deseed the pepper and give him the two halves~
Alex:  MOOOOOOM!  I didn't want it like this!  I wanted it together like a rocket ship!
This was followed by me telling him not to eat it if he didn't want it; him flinging it on the floor; me telling him to go to his room; him screaming NO!; me banishing him to his room by the back of his neck.

~Backing the car out of the garage and I push the button to close the garage door~
Alex:  MOOOOOOM!  I wanted to push the button.
This was followed by me giving up.  Forever.  Stick a fork in me, I'm done.

Tuesday, October 23, 2012

The good, the bad and the squeezey.

If he promises to be this cute in his costume every year, I will get behind Halloween.

We did have a bit of a rift when I pulled the costume out of the bag.  I excitedly told him I found a monkey costume and I got, "MoooOOooom...I want to be a BAD monkey."  Oooookkkkk...and exactly what makes a monkey "bad?"  Apparently, to be a bad monkey you have to carry shooters with you while dressed as a monkey.  Learn something new every day.

So, he will be a super cute snuggly monkey...that will shoot your ass if you mess with him.  Solid.

Monday, October 22, 2012

Alex finally decided on being a monkey for Halloween.  I just bought a monkey costume without him there to try it on, and there are no returns.  I'm currently taking bets on which is going to happen:  he is going to announce being a monkey is no longer an option, or the costume won't fit.  

I hate Halloween.


Alex and I spent the weekend in Platteville while Travis spent the weekend in St. Louis going on a brewery tour and going to the Packers' game.  Travis is really lucky I like my brother- and sister-in-law a whole lot.  But, Alex adores playing with his cousins, so we had a good time too!

On Sunday morning, the kids got to play video games on the big screen at the movie theater.  They had a whole theater to themselves, all the popcorn and soda they could consume and video games larger than life.  The guys took the kids so the ladies could have a morning of coffee and silence and chatting and silence and glorious silence.

Apparently, the uncles' favorite part of the excursion was that Alex was running back and forth on the stage in front of the screen while the other kids were playing FIFA soccer...and he was pretending he was scoring the goals.  That kid's got some sort of imagination.

Friday, October 19, 2012

Small spaces

The toilet tank was leaking juuuust a little bit and we didn't realize it...for a while.  Long enough that the water seeped under the tile floor and now the tiles are popping up and, in turn, breaking.  Yay.  But!  There's a silver lining!  We finally found an appreciation for our tiny tiny bathroom.

When you only have 15 square feet of tile to replace, you don't have to spend a lot on tile.  And when you have a miniscule amount of room between the door, toilet and tub, only 1 style of sink will fit and it's the cheapest one!

We purchased:
trim tile pieces
all the tools necessary for tiling a floor
pedestal sink

So, we are going to do a close to complete bathroom make-over for the grand total of....$200!

I'll take it!

Last night was a very whimpery night for Mr. Alex.  I can deal with sass and naughtiness without going berserk, but whiny?  Stop.  Stop right now.  I can't hear you when you whine.  Ah, the life of a compassionate mother.

Any way, due to the whiny, I was more than ready for bedtime.  We read a story, turned on his fish light, and snuggled up.  After telling him to stop talking and go to sleep and getting him a piece of cheese and covering and recovering him, he finally was still.  And then he wiggled over to me, put his head on mine and whispered, "Mom?  I totally totally love you."

Thursday, October 18, 2012

Sounds 'bout right.

Can I Never Leave?


This morning we got to bring a dump truck, a motorcycle, Ramoné, and a police car along for the ride to day care.  Paaartay!  On the way, it hit me that today's letter is the letter D.  Voila!  Dump truck!  So I excitedly told Alex he could show his dump truck for the letter D.  Good stuff.

Upon arrival, I collected all of our travel companions and handed Alex my keys so he could use the little fob thingy to buzz us in.  After reminding him for the third time he had to go to the bathroom, I took his toys, blanket and sweatshirt over to his cubby.  He got done in the bathroom and ran to go play.  Half way to a shopping cart, he stopped dead in his tracks, spun around and yelled for me.  He came running over with concern dripping off his face.  Hands out, palms up, and forehead wrinkled he said, "Oh no!  I forgot to get my thing for letter sharing!"  The joy on that child's face when I reminded him it was in his cubby was awesome.

As he ran off to get his dump truck, one of the teachers asked how I can handle not just squeezing his face every time he talks because he is just so cute.  Yeah...I can handle it because at least half the time I'm fighting the urge to squeeze his neck.

Never stop learning

I forgot to mention that when we were talking about having a baby at our house, Travis asked Alex what he would do with a baby that lived at our house.  "ummmm....just play wif 'em." And then Travis reminded him that babies cry a lot.  At which point, Alex informed us that all you have to do to stop a baby from crying is pet them, because babies like to be pet a lot.

So that's what we were doing wrong the first three months of Alex's life!  Not enough petting!  And here we thought he just had gas.  Dumb parents.

Wednesday, October 17, 2012

Do ya now?

At the dinner table last night, (the dinner table we were all sitting at simultaneously eating dinner like a real family...I know, right?!) Alex blurted out, "I want a baby at our house!"  And I, in turn, blurted out hysterical hyena laughter.  Once that subsided I asked him what he would name a baby if it was in our house.  No response. you want a boy baby or a girl baby in our house?  Response:  A daddy baby ahahAHAHHAHAHHA!

We're in luck!  We already have one of those.

Since someone has been wearing his sensitive pants at all times lately, it seems Alex's request for a daddy baby has been filled.  Let's continue on with our chicken pot pie thankyouverymuch.

Tuesday, October 16, 2012

Don't worry.  They're just practicing wrestling moves.  All good.  Nothing to see here.


So apparently being a big boy means you can do stupid shit and you won't get know, due to your big boy status.  That is, until you do actually get hurt from doing stupid shit like bouncing your way off the end of the couch.  Then you only acknowledge you are hurt for the amount of attention you want.  After that time has expired, you are back to being an invincible big boy and your mom is back to be an idiot who clearly doesn't understand what it means to be a big boy.

Lather.  Rinse.  Repeat.

Stamping...not just for scrapbooks

Alex has been better, but is still having days when it is hard for him to keep his hands to himself.  That's his teacher's euphemistic way of telling me he is being a big jerk and is whacking people.  Yesterday, he was back to just smacking people as he walked past them.  He's gonna make a lot of friends, I can tell.

Any way, I talked to him about it on our way home and again before we sat down to read books before bed.  I reminded him that he needs to keep his hands to himself and people won't want to play with him if he keeps whacking them.  He agreed and off we went to read books.

We were sitting for .7 seconds and he whacks me on the arm and says, "STAMP!"  And when I scolded him for hitting me, he instantly corrected me.  He didn't hit me, he stamped me.  Ummm...What's that now?

I would never tell him this, but I am kinda impressed with his thinking outside the box there.  Obviously, I still told him "stamping" people was not ok and he needed to keep his hands to himself, but in my head I was all, "nicely done on figuring out how to circumvent the rules buddy!"

That's more like it

The second attempt at reacquainting myself with Jillian went much better.  I made it through, no stopping and I don't feel like I pulled every single muscle today.  We'll call that progress.

Friday, October 12, 2012

Van No

I'm thinking art may not be his strong suit...

The Bitch is Back

Now that it is getting dark at like 3pm, finding a good time for running outside is becoming more of a challenge.  And since I have been gaining a bit of poundage since the Madison Mini, I need to get back on the work out horse.  Which means, until I find  different work out I like, Jillian is back.

Travis and Alex were playing with Alex's train, so I figured I could sneak in a work out.  Especially since Alex was not just standing next to his train table playing, he was sitting on his train table in the middle of the track.  Pretty sure he was distracted.  After the warm-up though, Alex came in the living room and asked if he could watch my exercises.  Sure, why not, everyone loves an audience while going through excruciating exercises!

The first strength move you do in Level 1 is 30 seconds of push-ups.  Which, quite frankly, is a long time of push-ups.  I started doing for real push-ups, but then quickly decided I didn't want my arms to fall off, so I switch to push-ups from my knees.  As soon as my knees hit the floor, my darling son pipes up with, "MoooOOoom! She said to put your feet all the way out!!"  Yes dear, I heard her say that, but until your little ass is down here doing the push-ups with me...shut it.

When I was half way through the first set of cardio, I got more input from the peanut gallery.  He just looked at me and said, "PHEW!  I'm tired."  Yeah...I bet that couch riding is tiring stuff.

The most irritating part about this whole work out was that I absolutely could not make it through Level 1, LEVEL 1, without stopping.  Like stopping for a loooong break.  So I didn't pass out.  Ummm..yeah.  I can run a half freaking marathon, but I can't take 20 minutes of this bitch?!?  You gotta be kidding me!

Day two of the aftermath of Jillian required ibuprofen.  I hate her.

Wednesday, October 10, 2012

Look who got a haircut and is finally ok with wearing sunglasses!

Tuesday, October 9, 2012

Trading Places

I am quite positive some sort of demon has taken over the body of my child.  And that demon is a 3 year old, bipolar asshole.

I was late to work this morning due to a meltdown stemming from pushing a button.  Apparently, today, not any other day EVER, Alex wanted to open the garage door.  But for fun, he didn't let me in on it.  So, after finally convincing him to get dressed and leave the house, we raced through the leaves and to the garage.  I opened the side door, reached up, and pressed the garage door button.  How dare I.

With that, a full blown, snot and tears ridden meltdown ensued.  The only thing I could think of that would coerce this inconsolable child into the car, was to offer to let him sit on my lap while we backed out of the garage and then he could push the button to close the door.  Deal accepted!

We get all backed out, I put the car in park and tell him to hurry and get in his seat so I can buckle him up and we can go.  And in the time it took for me to leave my seat and get to his door, all hell broke loose.  The backing up and closing the door deal was no longer good enough.  Because didn't I realize he still wanted to open the door?!?

I tried telling him we couldn't open it because we had to leave.  He just stood there, screaming and crying that he wanted to open the door.  I told him he had a choice.  Either he could get in his seat under his own accord, or I could put him in his seat.  That choice was met with a resounding NO!  So, I chose.  I put him in his seat, and after 12 seconds of trying to wrestle what I thought was my child, but was in fact now a wild boar, I had had enough.  I told him this was ridiculous and I slammed the door.  Walked to the other side, closed my door, and I walked away and into the backyard.  Yes, that's right.  I walked away from my 3 year old, not buckled in, in a running car.  Winning!

I counted to ten while doing some deep breathing, regained my wits, and walked back over to the car.  And I found him sitting in his seat quietly crying.  As I buckled him in, I asked why he was crying.  "Because I wanted you."  And he reached up and gave me a huge hug.

What. The. Hell.


Recently, I was once again tricked into thinking Mickey Mouse held the title for most annoying children's show.  And once again, I was dead wrong.  Mickey Mouse has got nothin' on that repetitive exploring little freak Dora and her damn monkey friend, Boots.  Boots, by the way, wears red boots.  No other items of clothing.  Just red boots.  And he really loves his boots.  And he tells you he really loves his red boots ALL THE TIME.  "I'm Boots!  I love my boots!"  Shut the fuck up, Boots.

And don't even get me started on Swiper, the thieving fox.  This asshole fox pops up every now and then with the sole intent of stealing whatever it is Dora and Boots need to fix their problem.  The problem they have told you about in the exact same words at least a dozen times.  And the only thing this stupid fox ever says is, "Oh maaaaaaan." while snapping his fingers in an "Aw shucks!" kind of way.  And he only does that after Dora, Boots and the home viewer yell, "Swiper!  No swiping!" at least seven times.

One episode of Dora, and I am on my knees, begging for that mouse.

Don't blink, you'll miss the clean.

This weekend I realized I couldn't remember the last time I washed the kitchen floor.  I realized this as I was noticing a dried up, now part of the floor, piece of lettuce from the boy's taco adventure three days prior.  We aren't going to talk about the pink-orange slime I had been successfully ignoring in the tub for a couple or four days.

A trip to the grocery store was also needed.  Alex announced he wanted to stay with me, which obviously wasn't going to work.  I tried to explain a zillion different ways why it would be awful to stay home with me and as glorious as riding a rainbow on a unicorn to go with Travis to the grocery store.  Didn't matter.  So we finally decided that we would race.  We would see if they could get done with the grocery store before I could get done cleaning THE ENTIRE HOUSE.  Fair?  No.  Successful at getting the boy out of the house? You bet your sweet bippy.

They walked out the door, I cranked some 80's and the race was on.  I was a cleaning tornado and was just about done de-sliming the bathtub when they got home and joyfully announced they beat me.  Congratulations!  You two managed to get 4 bags of food faster than I cleaned the whole downstairs.  Yee.  Haw.  Never have I been more impressed.  My poor sportsmanship aside, the house was shining and sparkly and the cupboards were full.  Happy happy joy joy.

About 86 minutes later, the beast child had to pee.  About 52% of the time, he wants to stand up.  Awwwwesome.  This kid can manage to pee between the seat and bowl and get pee all over the wall, me, and his pants, WHILE HE IS SITTING DOWN.  So, yeah, I am not excited about the standing up thing.  The toilet was clean for 86 minutes.  At minute 87?  Urine waterfall.

Then we ate dinner.  Before I could swallow my third bite, the floor under Alex's chair was piling up with rice, peas and corn that juuuuuust didn't make it into his mouth.  And it was at that moment I decided I am never cleaning again and we are just going to have to learn to deal with living like pig people.  I'm cool with it.

Wednesday, October 3, 2012

Carly Rae Jr.

In the car this morning, "Call Me Maybe" came on again.  I heard Alex slightly gasp and then...

"Mom!  This is the song I sing!  Can you make it bigger?"

Since it gave me a giggle, I'll let him slide on the bigger vs louder thing.


While Grandma was here, so was her camera...

Thanks Grandma Z!!

Catching our breath

This weekend was somethin'.

On Saturday, Alex seemed like he was getting a little bit of a cold.  But it didn't seem too bad and he was in a  good mood, so we went to a pumpkin patch with Claire and Addy.  We saw some goats, saw (and heard) a donkey, rode a hay ride, played in some corn.  The kids were tired so we loaded them up and headed home.  Both conked out within 10 minutes.  It was only about a 30 minute drive, so when we got home, I figured I would just lay Alex down.  And since he was so deeply asleep, I figured he would just go right back to sleep.  WRONG.  So, for the rest of the day, I had a borderline sick kid operating on 20 minutes of sleep when he is used to at least an hour.  Let the games begin!

After a bunch of whining and arguing and sassing, I figured an errand would be good to get us out of the house again and kill some time in new surroundings.  We needed dog food so I proposed we go to the pet store and look at fish.  Proposal accepted!  After about 10 minutes of running around like a maniac touching every fish, snake and lizard tank within reach of his little arms, we headed over to get some dog food.  But, one of us was distracted by a stuffed cat posing on the cat climber thingys.  And when I requested the stuffed animal be put back and the quest for dog food continue, the meltdown began.  Lots of whining while slumped or sprawled out on the floor.  And any time I would get within a foot of him, he would start yelling OW!OW!OW!  It was such a spectacle, not one, but two different store employees frightfully asked me if I needed help.  Gee...I look like I need help?  Why?  Oh, because I have a 35lb bag of dog food slung over my shoulder and I am dragging a 3 year old down the aisle by his armpit?  Nah, I got it.

I did accept the help of one girl when she asked if I wanted her to carry my purchase to my car.  As we were walking out, Alex was crying and requesting to be put down.  I told him no because clearly he was unable to use his listening skills.  With that my personal dog food sherpa giggled and told me I sound just like her mom.  And then she launched into a story about having to wear a backpack leash when she was little because she would run off and her mom would find her talking to some guy named Bill but she would tell her mom he wasn't a stranger because she knew his name now and thank goodness she grew up in a small town where the only strange man she was introducing herself to was good ol' Bill.  This whole story while I have a writhing, whining, crying 3 year old on my hip.  And then that little writhing , whining, crying 3 year old had the gall to ask me to stop and get him french fries.  Yeah....right.  I'll get right on that.

We got home and of course Alex didn't want to get out of the truck.  Time for another meltdown!  But lucky for me, we were at home, and I have a prison disguised as his room for him there.  Into lock-down he went. I shut his door and started angrily picking up the stuff strewn about the house.  Alex's toys were thrown from across the living room into his play room with love, cupboard doors were slammed shut, and the vacuum was sweetly ripped from its resting place.  All this ruckus, brought Travis downstairs from HIS NAP, and he asked if I needed to take a walk.  To which I started laugh-crying and told him, No, Rumpelstiltskin, I don't need to go for a walk. I need everything to just magically be fine.

By this point, Alex had emerged from his room and was sitting in the middle of the living room floor.  And I hear a little voice saying, "Mom?  I need you."  So I went in and asked what he needed.  "I need to snuggle you."  Which, while it was awesome and a much needed snuggle, made me realize something.  I am allowing myself to be emotional abused by a toddler.  He beats me down down down and then pulls me right back up with a smile and a snuggle.  Sneaky sneaky.

At about 7:45, he asked to lay down and read books.  And he was passed out by 8:10.  Now, I know he didn't have much of a nap, but there were still red flags a-flyin'.  And for good reason it turns out.  Sunday morning he woke up pretty much out of breath.  Just laying there.  Short, shallow, fast breaths.  A listen to his back confirmed some wheezing and rattling, so off to urgent care we went.  He got a breathing treatment and we were sent home as the proud new owners of our very own nebulizer.

I stayed home with him on Monday and called in Grandma reinforcements.  Not only did she help entertain and bathe him, she also showed up with three bags of food, a new book, and a sticker book.  Grandmas rule.

Friday, September 28, 2012

Red Light!

When I got to day care to pick him up, Alex came running up with a huge grin.  Said he had a great day!  Were you a good boy?  Nope!  And that is when his teacher said, "That's didn't have a very good day did you?  Where is your name?"  As I wasn't aware there was a specific place for the names of crazy little boys that didn't have a good day, I too asked where his name was.

On the red light.

I look down and on the wall is a brand new giant paper traffic light and next to it a list of the class rules.  Obviously, if you function within the rules throughout the day, your name stays on the green light.  All the kids' names were on the green light...except my kid.  I'm the lucky mom with the only red light kid in class!  Yay.

Wednesday, September 26, 2012

Working Mom

Ok, so seriously, Alex completely ignores me 99% of the time, but as soon as my phone rings he NEEDS my attention.  This proves to be super handy when I am talking to Dave from Mitchel's Heating in Minnesota.  So while he is asking me questions about the different products we work with, there is a non-stop symphony of, "Mom?  Mom?  Hey Mom!  Mom?" in the background.

I want to be a mom or an HVAC rep.  But not both at the same time thankyouverymuch.

Yay! Puke!

Wanna guess where I am?  If you said at home with the tv on constantly with a puky kid laying on the couch in his underwear and about a zillion blankets, you are correct!!

He threw up twice at day care yesterday AND had a fever, so he gets to stay home today.  Usually he wakes up just fine and I spend the day trying to corral a maniac while trying to accomplish something close to work.  Today he seems to still be a bit down and out this morning, which is a bummer for him...but makes it way easier for me to get work done.  And yes, I am aware of how horrible a parent I am.  Good talk.

Monday, September 24, 2012

Picture Day!

A couple weeks ago, a photographer came to the day care and took "school" pictures.  There are three poses.  One standard school picture complete with blue background, one standing next to a tree and tire swing prop, and THIS:

Friday, September 21, 2012

Here's a good spot

Like most children, Alex really likes stickers.  So far, he hasn't stuck any on anything other than paper, but he asks if he can...a lot.  One of his most frequently desired locations for stickers is the window next to his car seat.  He got a hold of a green crayon in Travis's car once and created a masterpiece on the window.  Ever since, he has consistently requested art supplies for window decoration.

I was looking for window cling thingys and end up with "peel&stick" wall decorations.  They are easily removable!  They use water-based adhesive!  Who needs static cling?!  I do.  These are not easily removable from glass, much the opposite of the packaging claims.  I'm not too concerned since hopefully the water-based adhesive will be easy enough to get off.

The whole way home yesterday, all I heard from the back seat was, "This goes riiiiight"

Given the rapid pace the peel&stick ones were used up, I have an order awaiting processing on Amazon for reusable CLING stickers.

Thursday, September 20, 2012

Out to get me

My dog child and my human child conspired against me once again.

Yesterday morning, Alex was on the precipice of a "Dont waaaaaanna leave" meltdown, and he was insistent on giving the dog a treat before we left.  In the interest of the sanity of all parties involved, I agreed to said treat.  And since he had been gearing up for a meltdown, we were slightly running late.  So I ripped the lid off the chicken jerky canister, handed Alex a piece and spun around to put the lid back on.

In my rush, I didn't properly calculate the height of my hand relative to the height of the bottom corner of the cabinet.  The very hard, very right angled, very not rounded corner of the cabinet.  This poor spacial judgement resulted in my middle finger smashing into the corner, the cabinet hitting just above the middle knuckle.  I hit it hard enough that it was one of those injuries that just turns white for about five minutes and then the spot of impact gets brutally dark purple.  As I sit here now, 29 hours later, it's still swollen and is slowly, but constantly changing colors.  Fun! Kaleidoscope finger!

Any way, back to how this is not my fault.  Obviously, there is no way those two little assholes didn't realize my clumsy ass would hurt myself whilst rushing for a dog treat.  They are obviously trying to take the matriarch down.  I'm on to them.


My stomach does not do well with milk.  I can get behind some serious cheese consumption, but the more liquid dairy products I have an issue with.  I power through ice cream because, well, it's ice cream.  But yogurt can only be in small doses and one bowl of cereal with milk is a no go.  Seeing as though the fat content outweighs the calcium content when it comes to cheese, I realize that is not a solid option to make sure my bones don't fall apart.

I have tried calcium supplements, but those do a number on my stomach as well...which in turn produces excessive use of air freshener, and we have to think about the ozone people.  I try to eat spinach and broccoli, but if I'm being honest with myself, I'm not getting enough calcium from that either.  So I've decided to give alternative milk a whirl.  First up:  almond milk.

It's the same thickness as skim milk, so it's not like your drinking cream.  I don't know why, but I was taken by surprise by how much it tastes like almonds.  You'd think I would've expected that flavor since it's a product made with almonds and it has almond right in the name.  First part of the name as a matter of fact.  But, I didn't.  I was down right blown away by how much it tastes like liquefied almonds.  I mean, dairy milk doesn't taste like burgers...maybe that's why I didn't expect the almond flavor.

Any way, it's not bad, but I'm not sure I could just sit down with a glass of it.  I found out it's delicious in coffee this morning.  I'm thinkin' it would also be good blended with strawberries and ice...Strawberry  almond milk shake!  Oooo!  Or maybe coffee and almond milk shake....the possibilities are endless.

Tuesday, September 18, 2012

My thoughts exactly

This is a spot on representation of how I feel today:

Lil' Crazy

Alex's demeanor last night, summed up in one question from Travis:

Did day care pour a Red Bull in him and shake him up before they handed him over?

Friday, September 14, 2012

Charged Up.

The last song on the radio as we pulled into day care this morning was "Call Me Maybe."  Throw shade if you'd like, but I cannot help but like that song.  I turned off the car as it ended and went around to get Alex.  I unbuckled him and then started sing/dancing my best Carly Rae to him.  All I got was a Stop Mom.  So, I sang louder and danced with more pointing at him.  And this conversation commenced:

Alex:  Mom, that song isn't on anymore.
Me:  I wanna sing it again.
Alex:  But that's the song we just heard.
Me:  But I want to sing it again.
Alex:  No.  You can't.  'Cause we're out of batteries.

Thursday, September 13, 2012

Forgetful Jones

I'm supposed to get to my desk by 8am.  This is not a strict start time by any means, but it is definitely what I shoot for.  I am 5 minutes late almost every single day.  And I blame that damn mouse, because clearly it couldn't be my fault.  Mickey and his band of merry problem solvers don't solve their problem until 7:24 every morning.  And then, after they solve whatever wacky thing happened that day, they have to do a "Hot Dog Dance" because they are just so darn excited about their impressive feat.  And Alex cannot leave without witnessing this glorious celebration.  Which then puts us out the door at 7:26.  Figure in the ridiculous amount of time it takes to get a 3 year old in a car seat and we are rarely leaving the driveway before 7:30.  Now this departure time would be fine if I was able to launch him from the moving car accurately enough to get him through the door of day care safely.  Alas, I am not that talented, so I am late.  Every morning.

And then there are mornings like today.  Mornings where all the problem solving and hot dog dancing in the world doesn't make this child ready to leave.  Usually there is a lot of crying and whining and why'ing.  This morning, he just straight up told me he wasn't coming with.  So, I said Ok and headed for the door.  And he collapsed on the floor.  Let Operation Whining Army Crawl commence!  This one took an extra long time because it started in the living room.  But, he finally made it outside with me.

We got to the garage when he announced he forgot something and had to go back in the house.  That's his new thing..."forgetting" things.

Alex, why are you standing in front of the open refrigerator door?  I forgot something in here.
Alex, why aren't you laying down for a nap?  I forgot something in my playroom.
Alex, why aren't you coming home with me from the neighbor's yard?  I forgot something there.

It's a good thing I haven't forgotten that it isn't acceptable to leave your child unattended for 8 hours.

In an effort to move things along this morning, I played along and back to the house we went.  And then my patience quickly vanished.  Had he just had something in mind to grab, I would have been fine.  But no.  He just stood there, looking around and saying Ummmmm.  So I picked him up, grabbed a couple cars and headed to the garage with a screaming angry bundle of Alex on my hip.  Normally I let him climb in the truck from the driver's door and make his way back to his seat, which I realize is part of why it takes so long for him to get in his seat.  Shut it.  I promptly informed him he had lost that privilege this morning.  Which lead to more tears and a straight steel bar child that refused to bend at the waist and sit in his seat.  And that caused said child to slide down the front of his seat and scrape his back.  Which turned into an injured child that needed soothing.  But the one that needs soothing is willing to sit in his seat after a couple hugs, so we were good to go.

I was still flustered and expressed my sarcastic shock at the fact that I was going to be late to work.  About half way to day care, Alex says in a sweet little voice, "Why are you late for work Mama?"

Tuesday, September 11, 2012

Someone is really excited about his Badger pajamas...

Another item for the List of Things I Shouldn't Admit:

It took three texts worth of being super frustrated and confused because my phone wasn't auto-filling the correct words to figure out that my text function had been switched to Spanish by my darling son.  You would think I would have recognize some of the words it was auto-correcting into Spanish since, you know, I took Spanish classes for 5 years.

Using up her cute points

Fun fact:  When you are an incredibly clumsy person, you will hurt yourself accomplishing every day tasks, including replacing 6 mini blinds your asshat of a dog ruined.

I would cut myself some slack if I was actually installing said blinds.  But no, the install is done and all I was doing was taking the shredded ones out of the little hanger thingys and putting the new ones in.  When I took the old ones out I saved the little tabs that hold the blinds in the holder thingys and set them on each window sill and proceeded to unwrap/de-box the new blinds.

The Injuries  
1.  After putting a new blind in the hanger thingys, I bent over to retrieve the little tabs from the window sill.  At which point I apparently forgot there was a freaking window in front of my head and smacked my forehead on the window.  Stung for a bit, but the pain quickly subsided.  The blow to my ego is still smoldering.

2.  The last blind was hung.  The anger was quelling.  And then I hit my elbow so hard on the top of the bottom window pane, it made my middle finger go numb.  It instantly swelled up.  Some ice and ibuprofen seemed to take care of it.  Until today.  Now every time I put my elbow on my desk, I yelp and wince.

This dog is so freaking lucky she is cute.

Monday, September 10, 2012

The Adventures of Miss Aiden

I'm pretty sure that when I do finally lose it and have to be committed, it is going to be because of my dog.  She goes from normal loving sweet dog to Captain Insane Puppy in like .2 seconds.  She is the only reason I look forward to nights being cold enough that we have to shut the windows.  Because with the windows shut she doesn't absolutely freak out about a caterpillar crunching too loudly on a leaf at 12:37AM.

Saturday evening ranked right up there in the top ten times I wanted to find a pack of wild hyenas and send her back to live with her brethren.  Alex and I ventured out Saturday a little before 7 in hopes of finding a fire truck at a thrift store.  This child has a zillion toys, but he really loves a good fire truck.  Due to the zillion toys, I am not about to drop $30-50 on another noise producing, insanity solidifying machine.  Off to Goodwill and Savers!

Side note about the Goodwill store closest to us.  Scary.  Nothing was organized, there was a baby screaming the entire 20 minutes we were there, there were more toys on the floor than on the shelves, don't even get me started on the book section.  I witnessed two little girls break two different toys and just walk away from the mess.  And they didn't have any fire trucks.  Moving on.

As we were leaving Goodwill, it was sprinkling.  Then while we were in Savers playing with the toys, going pee, playing some more, going poop, and playing yet again, I heard two small claps of thunder.  And when we came out it was pouring.  Who cares about a little unexpected storm, right?  Aiden, that's who.

I could tell she had done something horrible the second we walked in the house.  But I remembered putting up the two baby gates blocking the upstairs, and closing both doors to the spare room, and closing the door to Alex's room.  What I didn't remember was the door to the playroom.  There are 7 blinds in the playroom.  She shredded 6.  And apparently caused such a ruckus, my next door neighbor was about to come over and see if the key was under the mat because he was concerned.  Two thunderclaps.  Two.

And I was standing in the middle of the demolition, blind shrapnel everywhere, just absolutely steaming, I apologized to Alex for yelling, and explained that I was really mad the dog had ruined all the blinds in his playroom.  He just looks up at me while pointing to the single blind that remained in tact and says, "She didn't ruin this one Mama."  Thanks Señor Silver Lining.

Friday, September 7, 2012

Hands are NOT for Hitting!

So, the hitting thing.  Yeah, not so much done with this little fun time circus.  He still gets very sad when the Brown Elephant Blanket is taken away and very happy upon its return, but that deal is turning out to be not quite motivation enough for this child to keep his hands to himself.

Wednesday was horrendous.

When I picked him for his doctor appointment, his teacher told me he was kind of emotional throughout the morning.  Everything was great on the way to the doctor's office, while we were there, and on the way back.  He laid down right away for nap when we got back and I thought we were on our way to a good afternoon. I am so easily fooled.  Or gullible.

I was a bit late picking him up so I had to go to a different room because his teacher was gone for the day and they had combined two of the rooms.  The teacher in that room is new and I had yet to meet her.  So I walked in and introduced myself as Alex was happily screaming MOOOOOOMMMM and running over to me.  All good signs.  After introducing herself, the new teacher got a funny look on her face.  And as she started telling me about Alex's afternoon, I began to understand the face.  She was the lucky one that got to tell me that Alex's afternoon was all out terrible.  He would not stop hitting his friends and then topped that off when his teacher had to physically put him in a time out and while that was happening, he hit her.  Let's review.  Blah, blah, blah, HE HIT HIS TEACHER.  And not only did he hit his teacher, but I got to hear about from a different teacher that I have never met before.  Awesomesauce for everyone.

When I asked him why he hit his teacher, he responded:  "Uh, she put me in a time out Mom."  I'm not really sure how to adequately type the "duh I thought this was obvious" tone with which that statement was delivered.  He may as well have just worded it, "Ummm, I have to answer this?  Ok, yeah, she put me in a time out.  What else was I supposed to do?"

So I did what any stellar mom would do.  I sternly told him that is not a reason to hit someone and he is not allowed to hit people, especially his teacher.  Then, I calmly told the new teacher to never have a three year old and cheerily said it was so nice to meet her.  And we left.

Wednesday, September 5, 2012

Check Up!

Did you know they document BMI on three year olds?  Me neither!

I finally got Alex in for his 3 year check up.  He is 3'3" tall and 39lbs.  This puts him in the 76th percentile for height and 94th for weight.  This also puts him at an 18 for BMI.  Which is totally fine.  That BMI is fine...but the giant jump in BMI from last year to this year apparently is a something to "keep an eye on."  He has grown out faster than up this past year.  Although he does not appear heavy, so I think a better description would be that he has grown more physically dense.  He is one solid kid.

He also is a solid kid with 20/30 vision and an ok understanding of what the hell the nurse needed him to do during a hearing test.  After his doctor said it's hard to do an adequate hearing test on 3 year olds, he asked me if I have any concerns about his hearing.  I burst out laughing.  His hearing?  Oh no...he can hear me just fine.  His listening?  Now, that is something of concern.

Truck babies

So I know I was/am supposed to make sure I didn't only have traditional gender specific toys so says some article or something.  Yeah, I didn't do that.  I didn't intentionally not do that...I just didn't make it a priority.  Alex definitely has some gender neutral toys, but he definitely doesn't have anything "girly."  This little fact was brought to light when a friend was looking at a different child's "baby" and asked Alex if he had any babies at home.  His response:  Ummm...I have trucks?

Fast forward a couple weeks to last night.  The stroller is upstairs for the first time in forever.  We lent it to some friends and I just haven't managed to get it back downstairs.  And now I am not sure Alex is going to be too cool with me putting it away.  He brought it in the kitchen, asked me unfold it, and squealed as he pushed it into his play room.  He came back with this thing stuffed with toys.  A wooden train, Mack, and about 7 monster trucks.  And he proudly instructed me to look at, and give kisses to, his babies.

Might be time for a doll of some sort.

And Forever Begins

While pondering the fact that my child is 3 years old the other day, I came to a frightening realization...Alex is old enough now that he will most likely remember the things that happen on a day to day basis.  Like he will remember them forever.  We are forming life memories here people.

This is insane.  I have been operating the past 3 years with the fantastic safety net of no long term memory.  You can't screw a kid up too bad when he can't remember what the hell happened, right?  I mean, so far, he hasn't been able to tell me what he had for lunch much less remember something from the more distant past.  But now?  Now he will most likely have at least a faint recollection of the things that happen each and every day, when he is like 27.

Suddenly, this extreme pressure to ensure the shit we do every day will make good memories has moved in and it was definitely not invited.  I have a hard enough time coming up with things to do that will mildly entertain him IN THE MOMENT.  But now I have to figure out how to make sure he has good memories of his childhood?  You know, memories other than his mother being in a constant state of crazed pissed off and yelling NO!

I am not expecting his childhood memory piggy bank to be filled with rainbows and kitten farts.  I realize it is ok and the right thing to discipline him.  But is there a way to only have him remember the times when I am Fun Mom?