Feeling Pretty Great

Just hangin' out, waitin' for the roto-rooter dude, eatin' Ramen.  Wait, don't get jealous yet.

I cracked an egg and added sriracha to said Ramen.  Theeeeeere it is.  Just let that jealousy wash over you.  Some day if you try really really hard you might reach my level of awesome.  Be sure to enjoy that sewer smell permeating your kitchen when you get there.  That's just an added bonus.

Tomorrow Will Be Better

I thought I was having a good day.  Then I went to the grocery store.  I normally can get things done pretty quickly...get everything in order...don't have to double back...in and out.  not today.  Today I couldn't focus and ended up having to go to almost every aisle more than once.  Whatever.  Alex was great.  I am guessing the ENTIRE box of raspberries helped.

Then I tried to check out.  And I broke the debit card swiper thingy.  And then we had to change lanes.  And then my cart up and decided to stop being steerable.  And then Alex drooled chocolate down his jacket.

We got home only to find the dumb dog had peed on my bed.  And the basement had slightly flooded.  So now I get to call the roto rooter dude.

I quit.  I'm going to bed.

Details

Alex has a bath time book.  It's water proof and about a pig that got all dirty painting and has to take a bath to get clean.  There is one page that has pictures of five different toys the pig takes in the bath with him.  When Alex got to that page last night I asked him to tell me what each picture was.  Ball, duck, boat, hippo.  And then he pointed to a picture and said "that's a dolphin."  I was so astounded that he knew the word dolphin, I didn't bother to tell him he was pointing to a whale.

Splish Splash Vroooooom!

No bath is complete without Matchbox cars.  You didn't know?  Well, now you do.  Matchbox cars in the bath are where it's at.  Any cars in the bath actually.  Mini monster trucks work well too.  You got a toy bulldozer?  Get yourself set for some sweet water bulldozing action.

I will also tell you this...a glass of wine and a bath is not as luxurious when you are not the one in the bath.  The romance is pretty much zapped out with every pretend fill up of every pretend gas tank too.

Wahidontwannago!

This kid is freaking lucky I have this new found extreme attachment going on.  The last three mornings have been just a bit less desirable than having breakfast with a quill shooting porcupine that rolled in dog shit.  This morning, I lost all patience and finally just crammed that kid in his car seat without a shred of winter outerwear on his body while he was screaming and crying and arching his back like a lightning bolt had just landed on his head.  I had had it.

For the third morning in a row, there was a tantrum about getting dressed.  For the third morning in a row, there was a tantrum about turning off that goddamn mouse.  And for the third morning in a row I had to hear, "But I don't WANT TO!"  Really?  You don't want to?  I never would have guessed.  But too bad for you because I am chompin' at the bit to get to work and you can't stay home with the dog, so you gotta come with me.  We all don't want to kiddo, suck it up.

I realize that's a bit harsh, I mean he is only a little guy with limited understanding of the world around him, but holy hell it's been a rough three mornings.  And I would now like to take a moment to apologize to my mom and dad for every single "idonwanna!" ever to escape these lips.

Go West Young Lady

I've done it.  I have committed to going to California in mid February.  On a free flight.  To hang out with my favorite person in California who will be taking me to see Lauryn Hill in San Francisco.  Tough decision, right?  It's me, so yes, it is a tough decision.

I am finding myself all of a sudden freakishly attached to Alex.  I wasn't actually willing to give him away before, but now the thought of being away from him makes me sad.  I want him with me at all times.  He cracks me up and I love having his companionship.  I have been almost late to work the last two days because I don't want to get up off the couch from our morning snuggling.  Even if Mickey Mouse Clubhouse is on.

I am not complaining mind you.  I really like this new found extreme attachment.  It makes the moments he is an absolute pill a little easier to deal with.  But it is making it hard for me to do things for myself.  Which is silly.  The logic side of my brain knows that I need to do social things away from him to keep both his and my sanity in tact...or at least the same level of in tact as mine was to start.  But I don't want to.  I want to hang out with him.  But then I remembered a post from not too long ago where I was all whiny about how I want to have the ability to go do fun stuff and my life is so different and blah blah blah.  And here I am with a chance to go do something super fun and I was this close to turning down the offer...because I don't want to be away from my boy for 4 days.

Here's your chance ya freak, DO IT.

Too late

Last night, after 8 pm, I had the house to myself.  I took a ridiculously long and scaldingly hot shower.  I made myself some Ramen and I snuggled up on the couch with the dog.  Or around the dog I should say.  She takes up a lot of room for not being very big.  I had the rest of my night planned.  I knew I wasn't going to have to get up quite as early as normal because I wasn't going in to the office until after Alex's doctor appointment.  And I had 5 episodes of The Closer saved on our DVR.  Bliss in a blanket.

Man oh man did I get sucked in to The Closer.  At 11:50pm I had one episode left.  They run an hour with commercials, but I had it recorded so the commercials were just a fast forwarded blur and I didn't have to get up early, right?  So what's it gonna hurt to stay up a little later and get my full on Closer fix?  Nothin'.  12:45 I was brushin' these pearly whites and was off to bed.  Not to sleep mind you...no no...Trav and his symphony of snoring made sure sleep didn't come easily.  And then my Closer ridden brains played out incredibly strange dreams.

Yeah...staying up late doesn't hurt anything until your jerkstore kid wakes up at 5:45.  I have had to wake that little snot up every flippin' day this week.  At 7.  And today, the one day I was really relying on a little extra shut-eye...5 freaking 45.  In his defense the entire sippy cup of milk was probably not allowed during moments of my best judgement and his overnight diaper just couldn't take it anymore and his pj's were wet.  Boo hoo.  I'm tired kid!  Can't you just lay on your other side?

Sent Alex to day care today in an overnight diaper because I apparently cannot get my shit together enough to realize when I need to buy regular diapers.  They are super thick and not really made for running around.  I am sure he was super comfy.

Don't mind me...I'm just sittin' over here being totally kick-ass at parenting.

Stylin'

Today I received this picture from day care:

When his teacher tried to take it off of his head, he informed her it was his "party hat."  Pretty sure there is no denying he is our child.  And quite clearly very advanced.

To Protect and To Serve

The thought of Alex being sad actually hurts.  It takes the breath right out of me and makes me feel like a giant yak is sitting my chest.  I am not sure why all of sudden it is on my mind more, but it is right there, front and center, poking my brain with its sticky macaroni 'n' cheese covered fingers.

I have to go to a conference for work on Sunday.  I leave around 11am and am back Monday afternoon, most likely in time to pick him up from day care.  And it is making me sad that I will be away from him.  Last night, when I turned on the monitor and laid down to sleep, I heard him squirming around a little bit and I was instantly sad that he wasn't snuggled up with me..safe and warm and not available to any boogy men.

This summer he is supposed to go on a week long camping trip with his cousins and Trav's parents.  A week.  I am having heart pains about a day.  What in blue blazes am I gonna do with a week?

Still Coughin'

Alex has a cough that comes and goes and he never seems to quite shake it.  Thus far I have attributed it to the fact that he goes to day care with a bunch of other petri dishes and all they do all day is spread germs to each other.  They learn stuff too, but I believe their main goal is to see how quickly they can infect each other.

So yesterday, this cough reared up again during his nap and cut his nap from 2 to 2&1/2 hours to a whopping 35 minutes.  Needless to say, I was told he was "challenging" the rest of the afternoon.  His teacher also asked if his doctor has said anything to me, or if I have asked, about asthma.  Gotta be honest, I was pretty much floored.  And I immediately felt like she was jumping to conclusions.  Apparently having a cough that never quite goes away and is most prominent when one lays down is an indicator of asthma.  This teacher has two kids that have had asthma since they were little and she said his coughing has her a little concerned.  Another teacher separately also mentioned that perhaps I should ask his doctor about it.

I'm all bajiggity about this.  I trust his teachers and they have been pretty much spot on about everything else this kid has dished out...but I am still getting to know his new teacher and she and I have fairly different personalities so it is taking me a little bit to get used to her.  But the other teacher has known Alex, and seen him at least 4 days a week, since he was 8 weeks old.  Pretty sure I am used to her.  So why am I hesitant to call his doctor?

I guess I have just thought that it was just a cold and the thought of it being something else, something more serious sounding, is not sitting very well with me.  And since asthma is nothing that has ever crossed my mind, I feel like we might be jumping the gun a little here.  The other thing is he just had a chest x-ray and in my professional doctoral opinion, I feel the x-ray would have shown something along the lines of swollen bronchial tubes.  See?  I used the term "bronchial"...and I didn't have to look up the spelling...I obviously know what I am talking about.

But in the end, what does it hurt to call?  Nothin'.  That's what doctors are there for.  Good talk.

Golden Oldies

Listening to Ray Charles, Marvin Gaye and the likes always makes me think I was born in the wrong era.  I love everything about the 50's, 60's & 70's.  The music, the clothes, the cars.  I mean everything aside from the rampant racism, sexism and lack of blogs.  But other than that, I want to go to there.

Adventures with LaChoy

In 34 years I have yet to master the use of a soy sauce bottle.  Every stinkin' time, the first shake is right on target.  But the second?  Could that possibly land in a spot remotely close to the first?  NooooOOOooo.  It has to land across the room as far away from my food as possible.  It's like the bottle hyper-pressurizes after that first shake and tries to see how far it can launch a stream of soy sauce.

My calculator is not happy.  And I am craving an egg roll every time I need to do some math.

Devil inside me

Last night, Alex told me his eyes are blue.  Which they are.  So I asked him what color my eyes are.  Foolishly, I was expecting something along the lines of, Blue...like me!  What did I get?  "Red.  You eyes red Mama."

You can get with this, or you can get with that.

So when do you suppose I will fully accept the plain and simply fact that my life is just not the same as it was 3&1/2 years ago?  Not only accept that fact, but also not get bummed out about it fairly frequently.

Kari joined me in the esteemed ranks of 34 year olds on Tuesday.  And she celebrated by going snowboarding, have some drinks and then an impromptu trip to Ho-Chunk for the night.  Now she will be the first to tell you 34 is too old to snowboard for the first time.  That is not where I get all "I Used to be Someone Different."  That comes in when I think about her having the ability to decide at 6pm she is heading out of town for the night.  I used to be in a place that if I wanted to just take off for the night, I could.  I don't know that I ever actually did that, but I could have.  Not a realistic option any more.

So if it isn't something I would have been likely to do when I had the chance and now it would require the stars to align just right with the moon while kissing the house my astrological sign is in, why am I letting it get to me?  Because I am me.  And I want to believe I am still as cool and fun as I used to think I was.  But at the same time I really am happy with most aspects of my life and I wouldn't give up what I have now in a million years.

So basically, I want to have my kegger and drink it too.

How may I direct your call?

I think I might be on the phone too often when Alex is around.  I am mostly referring to time in the car.  He imitates my exact style of conversation when he is pretending to be on the phone.  He likes having his own phone.  Normal kid stuff.  But then yesterday happened.

We were leaving day care at the same time as Ryne and her mom, so we put the back windows down so the kids could wave at each other.  And when I put the window down in my car, a cracksnaplotsofthingsbreaking noise erupted from inside the door.  That lovely noise was followed by a deafening silence when I pushed the button to get the window to go back up.  Sweet.

Ryne's mom helped me wrestle the window back up, I hung my head in driving a jalopy shame and we left.  I called Travis to let him know so he could call and get the part we needed on order.  He knew exactly what part we needed since he fixed this exact problem in the other door about six months ago.  Yay for having old cars!  While I was waiting for him to answer, Alex just kept pointing out that the window was broken.  Oh yeah, and it won't stay all the way up, so it was sitting open about 3" which just intensified the "It BROKEN" disclaimer from the back seat.

Anywho, I get Trav on the phone, explain the window situation and tell him Alex and I are going to run to Target to get some household stuff.  And a KitKat, but what Travis doesn't know won't hurt him.  All of a sudden Alex says that he wants to talk to Daddy.  I reluctantly handed him the phone with images of him holding the phone in front of his face just staring at it.  I.e., what I have observed every single toddler do, including my own, when handed a phone.  But that is not what happened.  He put the phone up to his ear and said, "Hollow?  Daddy?  Window broken."  And then he continued on and had a full minute phone conversation. It was the sweetest funniest thing he has done in a while.

It must have been obvious how proud I was and how cute I thought he was being, as there were two more requests to talk to Travis.  Super cute each time.  But we went from toddler not understanding how a phone works to 16 year old explaining the inner workings of a car door window to his father.  Slow down honey, Mommy can't keep up.

New Kid

Yesterday, Alex officially moved to the big kids' room.  It's not really that big of a deal since he had been spending about half his time over there any way, but still.  He seems to be just fine with the switch.  Me?  Not so much.  I just want him to stay little and never grow up and never be in situations where his feelings might be hurt by mean kids.

This whole feeling is further proof of a bigger problem I have.  Aside from the children that are related to me and the children of close friends, I tend to not like other people's kids.  For the most part, they annoy the hell out of me, which in turn makes me annoyed with the parents, but Alex doesn't have to deal with the parents and I am pretty sure I can handle them.  Alex does have to deal with the sucky kids though.

The suckiness was brought by one 4 year old little girl both today and yesterday.  When we got there yesterday, she immediately informed me Alex was in the wrong room.  I normally don't mind this little girl, so I nicely told her that he used to be in a different room, but starting that morning, he was going to be in their room now.  And I continued that since he was new to the big kids' room it would be really great if she could help him so he understood the rules of that room and could learn how to play with them.  She just looked at me like I was a total idiot and plainly said, "We don't know how to do that."  It took a lot of restraint to not tell her that she best get to figuring that out, but I just smiled and steered Alex toward a bucket of trucks.

So then this morning we get there and Alex walks over to see what the other kids are doing.  And she physically stops him from joining in while saying, "No little Alex, this is our barn."  What I really wanted to do was tell her, "Bitch, please.  You built this "barn," which doesn't have a roof by the way, out of stuff that is here for everyone to play with.  You having a hand in building this roofless barn with chairs for walls, does NOT the Barn Queen make you.  So shelf the 'tude and let my kid play.  He has a masters in fort building by the way."  But you know, her being 30 years my junior and all, I figured I could be the bigger person and just show Alex some new tools they had.

I am not sure I am ready for him to leave the toddler room nest.  You know that nest...the one he ruled with an iron fist and steel teeth.

Choo! Choo!

We finally got a train set for Alex.  Within two minutes of him playing, I realized the floor is not going to work as a location for said train.  So we put it up on the coffee table.  Yeah...we need us a train table.  I want my coffee table back.  As you can clearly see from this picture I need somewhere to store wipes, lotion, clothes, Mack, throw pillows.

As you can also clearly see from this picture, I did not give a shiiiiiit about what clothes Alex was wearing on Sunday.  Conflicting stripes?  Blue shirt, black pants?  Sharp dressed man. 

Ready! Aim!

Last night, I was on the phone with my parents while driving home from picking up Alex...

The ENTIRE time, he just kept saying "Fire! Fire! Fire!" over and over and over and louder and louder and smiley-er and smiley-er.

I have no clue.

Cars cars cars

Last night, Alex didn't want to stop doing any activity.  He didn't want to stop feeding the dog spaghetti noodles.  He didn't want to stop having Travis sneak around and jump out and scare us.  He didn't want to stop taking a bath.  He for sure didn't want to stop watching Cars.

Yes, I am aware it was beyond stupid of me to turn on that fucking movie with a short amount of time before bed.  But I needed to dry, lotion and pajama that kid.  And once that movie starts, he is a statue.  A blank stared, open mouthed statue.  Read:  easily dried, lotioned and pajamaed child.  Before I started it, I told him he could watch until the first race was over and then we were turning it off.  Based on his level of agreement to that deal and subsequent screaming fit when I reached for the remote to turn it off, I am pretty sure he heard was "Yes, we can absolutely watch Cars...in it's entirety...twice."

He is well aware that when I say I am doing something I am going to do it, so he knew that tv was getting turned off lickety-split, especially when the fit started.  But he got me last night.  He stopped crying right as I was pointing the remote and recited along with Lightning "Rusteeeeeze" while looking at me with an "if I look cute enough, she will laugh and I will get a couple more precious Cars seconds" face.  He was right.  Couldn't be helped.

Take that!

Alex is super old.  It seems like not too long ago, all that came out of his mouth was gibberish.  Not anymore.  Now he not only says Thank you, but waits for a You're Welcome.  And if he doesn't get it, he just keeps repeating Thank you.  It's no longer one word with an extended index finger letting me know what goal we are trying to attain.  Now it's full sentences...and explanations...and descriptions...and requests.

All of this understanding and language and development is great, but it is making bed time an incredibly long process.  Now in addition to making sure he says good-night to Travis and he has all 9 blankets arranged properly on his lap and he has juuuuust the right amount of chocolate in his milk, we still read books, but he wants to "read" along with me.  Two to three times per book.  Which is great, really it is.  But trying to read when someone is attempting to recite along with your words makes it very difficult.  It throws my rhythm all off and I get the words jumbled up.  It's kinda like trying to count 986 pennies with someone yelling random numbers into your ears.  He does the same thing with the songs he requests.  He's got to work on his pitch if we are going to be performing duets.

The one bed time extender that just slayed me happened a couple nights ago.  After all of the reading and singing and light turning off and on and off and on and OFF, DEAR LORD CHILD TURN THE LIGHT OFF OR I WILL SNAP, I finally had him snuggled up in bed.  After I fulfilled his request of "petting" him, I said good night and that I was leaving the room.  And he whined to try to get me to stay and said, "But...I miss you."  And at that point, this kid's grasp of understanding and manipulating me smacked me square in the face.  But don't you worry, I won.  I choked back the tears of love and fought the urge to pick him up and snuggle with him and I didn't crawl into his crib.  I just told him I would see him in the morning and closed the door.  Ha!  Manipulate THAT kiddo!

And yes, I let him have chocolate syrup in his milk.  It's sugar free and he drinks it like it's goin' out of style.  Naysayers can suck it.

He's a big kid

When I picked Alex up the other day, his teachers let me know they think it would be a good thing for him to be in the big kids' room all the time.  Currently he goes between the toddler room and the big kids' room depending on how many and which kids are there.  But, in a week or so, he will officially be movin' on up.  And in today's Least Shocking News, I am feeling conflicted about the change.

On the one hand, I trust his teachers.  They spend a crazy amount of time with him and I trust they wouldn't move him if they didn't honestly feel it would be best for him.  And, he would have probably been moving over to that room in about 6 months or so any way.

But, 6 months is a long time in toddler terms.  When I think about how different he is now from how he was at his 2nd birthday, it's like I have a totally different kid.  I mean 6 months is 1/5 of his ENTIRE LIFE.  That would be like...well too many years to think about for me.  So really the difference between moving rooms now and moving rooms when he is 3 is a big thing.

Another thing that is kinda getting to me is that I am very comfortable with his current teacher, and I don't know his new teacher very well.  The other kids seems to really like her and she is a stickler for her rules.  Which I do not have a problem with at all.  Her rules are ones that will help reinforce using manners and being an all around decent person.  I am currently operating with the idea that I am a-ok with being hard on him now to hopefully ease behavioral issues in the future.  Whether I am succeeding at that remains to be seen...ask me in a couple or ten years.

My big issue...she is pushing potty training.  And I am terrified of it.  As much as I don't necessarily like changing diapers, it is so so so convenient.  We just went to Minnesota for the weekend.  About four hours each way.  We didn't have to stop once.  Diapers are a beautiful thing.  When I am running errands, I don't have to be aware of bathrooms.  Go in your pants kid!  We'll clean it up shortly!  See how nice when we don't have to interrupt Mommy's precious life?!

I keep saying I don't want to push potty training on him so as to avoid frustrating him.  But I don't know if that is true or if I just don't want to, or know how to, deal with it.  In an effort to overcome my fears, we have instituted a new operating procedure:  using the toilet renders a prize of one M&M.  I don't know if it will work for Alex, but it is totally satisfying my chocolate craving!