Silly Farmer

Daycare is taking the kids to McDonald's today for lunch and play time.  I reminded Alex about it before we got in the car this morning.  In turn, we sang about the various animals Old McDonald has on his stupid farm...all the way to daycare.

What you want

The older Alex gets, the more I am enjoying our relationship.  He is honing a pretty awesome sense of humor, we can play together more easily and we have a clearer channel of communication.  But, just because we can talk to each other more easily, we are definitely not on the same page any more often.  Lately when I do or don't want to something to happen that he does or doesn't want to, I get the following:

But I do/don't want to.

Yes, dear, I realize you want the opposite of everything I want.  You have made that painfully clear over the last 3 years.  But that isn't really the point, my sweet little sassy trying exhausting little boy.

Morning!

Not gonna lie...waking up to a bright blue eyed, grinning face makes waking up at 6:30 not so terrible.  It was 15 minutes before my alarm, but the snuggles made it worth it.

Bark! Bark!

It was easily a 1,439 degrees and at least 257% humidity yesterday.  There was a breeze, but it felt like Mother Nature just got a new high powered blow drier and was trying it out on the trees.  Needless to say, the dog was not in the mood to play.  Not that she could have played the game Alex wanted to play seeing as though he wanted her up in his fort, laying down, while he pretended to drive the fort on various errands.  So guess who got to pretend she was a dog?  Mama.

I wasn't allowed to talk, just bark.  I had to be sure to display the appropriate emotions when I was told he was leaving for or arriving back from a trip.  I wasn't allowed to walk upright because, duh, dogs don't walk on two feet.  Any time I did stand up, Alex would instructed me to get down on my paws.  He would say it in a super soft, kinda high pitched, talking to a puppy type of voice though, so on my hands and knees I went.  I took pretend dog naps in my pretend dog cage while he was pretend gone.  I was even introduced to the neighbor as his new friend dog.

I might need to get that kid a sibling.  Or a more willing dog at least.

Mama makes the rules!

Last night very quickly became a battle of wills between the beast child and me.  He was in a straight up pushing boundaries type of mood.  I told him he couldn't pick the tomatoes because they are not ripe yet, he said he just wanted to watch them grow.  I told him to put his underwear back on after peeing off the back steps, he threw them in the air and ran away laughing.  I told him he could have some watermelon for a snack, he wanted a popsicle.  Round and round and round we went.

I could feel my breaking point inching closer and closer and I finally asked him, "Why why why must you fight me on everything?!?!"

He stopped dead in his tracks, faced me with an exasperated look, shrugged shoulders, his arms out to the side with palms facing up and informed me, "I have to fight you because I don't know the rules!"

Well then darling son of mine, let me teach you the rules.  They're real simple.

Whatever Mama says is the rules.  End of lesson.

E.S.P.

At 3:42 this morning, Alex crept up the stairs and all bright eyed told me he wanted to sleep with me.  This has become a very frequent request lately.  Not sure what it's all about, but it usually only comes up at bedtime.  I tell him he can sleep with me on Friday, he agrees, all's good.  Last night's middle of the night request was a new one.

I was too tired to fight it, so I told him we could sleep downstairs on the futon.  After helping him gather all five of his blankets, one pillow pet, one ugly doll, and one stuffed dolphin he has named Caesar, we headed into the spare room.  On my way through the door, I stepped in a puddle of dog pee.  So awesome.  As I furiously cleaned it up, Alex sat on the edge of the bed asking what I was doing, and reminding me that dogs don't pee inside, dogs pee outside, right mom? only people pee inside, and only dogs poop outside, right mom? boys poop inside, boys don't poop outside, right mom?

Finally we lay down, get all of the blankets organized with the correct side up, and I inform him that if he doesn't stop fidgeting and go to sleep he is going back to his bed and I am going back to mine.  And finally, finally, we slept.  For an hour.  After an hour, he was wide-eyed in my face saying he was awake.  No.  No no no nonononononononono.  Go. To. Sleep.  Travis made me get up at 6:40 before he left.  Fine.

Alex was eating watermelon and watching Mickey Mouse while I was getting ready.  Since I am not stupid enough to let him have watermelon in the car, I asked if he wanted me to bring some blueberries for the ride. My question was ignored as Mickey Mouse apparently trumps Mom.  So I stood between him and the tv and asked again while also letting him know ignoring me will lead to no tv.  He looked right at me and said no thank you to the blueberries.  Good good.  I threw a GoGurt in my lunch bag next to his juice just in case that grabbed his fancy.

We get half way to day care and he tells me from the back seat that he wants his blueberries.  I laughed and reminded him he said he didn't want any so I didn't bring them.  Which was of course met with a wail of how he didn't say that and he wanted them now and why didn't I bring any blueberries???  I explained once more why we were on a blueberry free journey, he paused for a second and then said, "But I'm counting on you."

It's hours later and I still haven't been able to figure out a response to that.

Wrong MOM.

Just to make sure he proves me wrong every time I say he has accomplished something, Alex stood up while in the bath and peed on the cabinet that's under the sink.  Because why wouldn't ya?

Add one

I think I have mentioned that when Alex is naughty at day care they jokingly call him Julio.  I am guessing it is just a variation of yelling "Julius!" at him.  Yesterday, as we pulled into the garage he asked if Daddy was home yet.  I said no and that we had beaten him home.  And he just says, "Oh.  So it's just Mama & Alex & Julio.  Ok."

Not sure if I should be worried or not...can one create Schizophrenia?

The calm after the storm

I really think this potty training idea is sticking in my kid's head.  And I said as much to two of my friends this morning.  Both had the same response:

Like indoors and everything?

Kinda puts you in your place when your friends have to clarify if  your child is using indoor plumping or not.  Stay classy Julius family, stay classy.

I will tell you this though.  Every single time he stops what he is doing, looks around inquisitively for a second, and then runs to the bathroom leaving a wake of shorts, shoes, socks and underwear behind him, I cannot contain my pride.  I just stand there beaming like a lighthouse and ask if he needs help.

One of my friends also asked how relieved I was that he has finally figured this out.  Yes, I am relieved, but I have to admit, now that we can see the bathroom light at the end of the tunnel, the laundry and stress and laundry and messes and ohmygodthelaundry seem like a tiny little blip on the radar.  It's just so funny to me how wrapped up in his stuff I let myself get.  Like when he was biting, I felt like he was going to have to wear a muzzle forever.  Or when he was sitting on smaller children and I felt like we were going to have to have him in a dog crate for the safety of others.  While you're in the heat of the battle, the task at hand seems so huge and insurmountable.  But the instant it's over and everyone prevails, the anguish vanishes and you can't believe you let yourself get so worried.

Or maybe that's just me and my obsessive brains.  Who knows.  All I know is I have an awesome 3 year old that doesn't piss in his pants anymore.  Now, that's what I'm talkin' about BABY!

3 year old life coach

I had something like 17 miles left until my gas tank was empty so we stopped for gas this morning.  Alex really likes helping me pump gas.  As soon as I unbuckled the straps on his car seat, he flung them aside and jumped out of his seat.  We got gas, he used the disgusting frayed windshield washer thingy to wash various 2" square spots on my car, grabbed the receipt and got back on our way.

He loves hanging on to receipts and pretending they are going to fly away.  Proven to be one of his favorite activities after we check out at the grocery store.  So I gave him the receipt from the gas pump.  He rolled down his window and held the receipt up so it would flap in the wind.  Then the giggling started while he was yelling at me to Look!  It's waving like a sail!  And then he belted out my new favorite thing he says:

That's what I'm talkin' about BABY!

His excitement and uncontainable joy over something so simple as a receipt flapping in the wind made my day.  And for your fill of cliché, it really did make me think that we could all use a three year old's amazement as a lesson.  A lesson in just not being so stressed out.  In taking a minute to be amazed by something.  In not worrying about what's next.  Just watch that receipt flutter and be happy.

Hamster in a wheel.

Since it is so unbearably hot, I had to run at the gym last night.  I always forget how much I hate running on a treadmill...until I have to run on a treadmill.  It is just so boring.  There was a TV right on the machine, but my brilliant self couldn't find the plug in for my headphones.  I groped the entire control area of it and was starting to feel uncomfortable with how well I was getting to know this treadmill, so I gave up.  I plugged my headphones into my iPod, put the closed captioning on, and started in on my 4 miles.

I sweat a lot; I'm used to it.  But normally I'm sweating a lot all across town.  Not last night.  Last night I just sweat a lot all over a treadmill.  I had to wipe off the plastic on either side of the belt thingy because my elbow creases were dripping sweat all over it.  So attractive.

I am gross...but I am one run closer to August 18th.

Om nom nom nom!

We went grocery shopping last night and took the beast.  He was way too excited to be there, so it was kinda like shopping with a miniature wild rhinoceros.  Until I picked up a container of SantaSweets tomatoes.  As soon as those bad boys were in the cart, so was he.  Sitting like a perfect little boy in the designated seat and everything, patting the weird metal you-can-put-stuff-here-but-you-will-forget-it tray area in front of him to show me where to put the container.  He sat there the whole time and ate 4 tomatoes shy of the entire pint.

And then we came home and he ate half a cucumber, 11 black olives, a taco, a plain tortilla, and a little salad.  Ya think he was growing yesterday?  I expected his mattress to bottom out when I put him to bed.

Speaking of putting him to bed, I have found my new favorite place for my head.  Resting on my 3 year old's shoulder with his arm wrapped around me while he "pets" my head and guzzles down 2/3 of a pint of milk.  That right there is paradise.

Can we build it?

The addition at day care is starting to take shape.  There is a crane there today because they are installing the tresses.  Alex is just a little excited...

How they plan on getting that child back inside at any point today is beyond me.

Reverse That

I am not sure what's going on with her, but Aiden has pooped in the house twice this week.  Now, she is known to throw down some mad pee when she is upset, but she only has pooped in the house when she has been sick.  So there is possibly a vet visit in her future.

But while I was cleaning it up last night, all I could think was, "Great.  I've got a dog that shits inside and a kid that shits outside.  I clearly have control of my surroundings."

Did we talk about pee yesterday? Too bad.

I had to stop at Target on my way home last night because...well because I have a child and I swear when you have at least one of those, you are required to go to Target at minimum twice a week.  So as we are walking in, I asked Alex if he had to go to the bathroom.  And shockingly the boy that drank almost a full sippy cup of juice has to pee.  After careful deliberation over which stall to use, making sure he was out of the stall before the super loud toilet flushed, and hand washing, we were on our way to get the two things I needed.

We get to the opposite corner of the store and he informs me he has to poop.  So we make the trek back to the bathroom with no less than 12 stops to look at something "awwwwwessssssoooommme."  After agreeing each time to the awesomeness of the wares of Target, I would ask him if he has to poop.  And every time I would get the response, "oh! oh yeah! yep!"  We finally get to the bathroom, park the cart, take off his shorts, underwear and shoes because who can poop while wearing shoes?, and he tells me he doesn't have to go.  I call bullshit.  So I told him he needed to try again.  And this is where the newest and most ridiculous part of his potty training comes in.

A couple weeks ago, this same situation occurred.  He really wasn't having any of sitting there and trying to poop, so I said he had to try while we sang a song.  He agreed and the first song that popped into my head was fucking Afro Circus.  Which is annoying enough when we are at home.  But really really takes the cake in a completely full Target bathroom.  But whatever, he pooped, we finished shopping and went home.

Of course within 15 minutes of being home, he was running around in a tshirt and his underwear because I cannot get that kid to keep pants on to save my life.  We have come to an understanding that underwear is required at the dinner table and outside.  Good good.  So while he is running around like a maniac with Lightning McQueen plastered all over his butt, I was talking to our new-ish neighbor.  A couple of minutes into our conversation, Alex comes running over in nothing but his tshirt and super excitedly tells me he pooped in the yard!  Like Aiden!  The neighbor burst out laughing, and I look over and sure enough there is an Alex turd sitting on what used to be grass before this drought, next to the sidewalk.  I did my best to maintain any composure, asked my neighbor if he was really happy they moved in next to us, and immediately walked Alex inside while telling him it is NOT OK TO POOP IN THE YARD.  His response?  Why Mom?  Ummm, because it is disgusting and you are not a feral cat.

I went inside to get a wipe to pick up the turd and transport it to a more appropriate place like, oh I don't know, a toilet!?!?!  Travis heard the ruckus and asked what was going on.  And when I told him, he of course laughed and then proceeded to tell me that he thinks Alex must be a man of steel.  Why you ask?  Because, and I quote, "he has wanted to poop in the yard for like 2 months and he just finally now gave in to that temptation."  Ok, what.  I think we have a bigger issue to address than our 3 year old's will power.

So this morning, all was back to normal.  I dropped him off, his teachers had a good laugh about the yard pooper and I went to work.  Only to get a text message a couple hours later:

We are outside riding bikes and Alex just dropped his pants and peed.  LOL

Fantabulous.  But, as my sister pointed out, given last night's events that message obviously could have been a lot worse.

I am not 100% sure, but I think these are signs that Travis and I are totally succeeding at rearing a child.  We should do this again some time.

Maturity

It really sucks when you are 34 years old, eating your breakfast of dry Cheerios at your desk with your fingers, and all you can smell is the astringent you had to use on the giant zit on your face that is lingering like obnoxiously clean smelling perfume on your fingers.  Because you are a 34 year old who eats cereal with her hands like an ape and still gets giant zits like a teenager.

It just takes you down a few pegs on the I've Mastered Adulthood ladder, ya know?

37

37 days until I am pinning on another race bib and trying not to die for 13.1 miles.  Let the freaking out BEGIN!

Diapers be gone!

So, I think we edging in on the completion of potty training.  I mean he still will pretty much only pee outside when we are at home, but it's better than in his pants.  Knock on wood, but he has only had one accident in more than a week.  And that one was because I forgot to tell his teacher he wasn't wearing a diaper in the morning, so she didn't send him to the bathroom before breakfast, and he was apparently a little too preoccupied with food to realize he had to pee.  Whoopsiedoodle!

Last night put the nail in the last of my doubts.  He has become a ninja at getting out of his room.  I am assuming I am just sleeping heavily enough that I don't hear the door open, but it takes quite a bit to open his door.  It sticks terribly and usually makes a pretty substantial noise when you do manage to pry it open.  But once again last night I didn't wake up until I heard him creeping up the stairs...at 3:26AM...after he had already woken up once at 2:27AM.  I heard the stairs and bolted up only to see his little head peering around the banister.  I could see his little head because downstairs was lit up like a roman candle and the light was flooding the staircase.

So I got up, and as I was picking him up to take him back downstairs, I realized he was naked from the waist down.  Definitely different than how I put him to bed.  When I asked where his diaper was, he told me he just took it off because he had to pee. Immediately flashes of pee soaked beds and clothes and blankets and floors zoomed through my brain.  Alas, I was wrong to jump to conclusions.

We got downstairs to the bathroom and there was no pee on the floor.  Every single one of his five blankets was on the bathroom floor, but no pee.  He had woken up, taken off his diaper, threw it in the garbage, went in the bathroom, positioned his step stool and potty seat and peed.  I was so proud.  So tired, but so proud. Not only did he wake up to pee and do it on his own, but he also managed to actually use our fancy indoor plumbing!

I am really looking forward to when I am proud of accomplishments that don't include human waste.

Justified.

Ya wanna know what the most satisfying part of running 8 miles in 90 degree heat and burning over 1000 calories is?

Sense of accomplishment?  No.  Getting fit?  Nope.  Knowing I am one step closer to completing another training cycle?  Nah.  Totally guilt-free consumption of a scoop of Mocha Cappuccino Almond Fudge custard?  Hells yes.

Swimming with Strangers

We went to Minnesota this weekend for my nephew's birthday and a belated 4th of July Julius get together.  Alex was really good, only had one accident, but had a rough weekend.

We were at my brother-in-law's neighbors' house to swim for an afternoon.  Neighbors that I have met once.  Alex tried to pet their dog who apparently really doesn't like little kids.  That ended in a dog teeth scraped wrist and the saving graces of a homemade boo-boo buddy.  Then we went swimming.

Alex loves swimming.  He also loves jumping off the diving board and doesn't mind going under the water.  Only problem there is that he very rarely remembers to close his mouth, and therefore ends up swallowing a ton of water.  And when you swallow a ton of water when your parents are throwing you back and forth like a giant beach ball, you apparently throw up your entire hot dog and pickle lunch all over some complete strangers' pool deck.  He was fine after he puked.  I was mortified, but didn't know what else to do, so I scooped up the mess WITH MY HANDS, put it on a paper plate to throw it away and used some pool water to wash the rest into the lawn.  So that was awesome.

About a half hour later, I hear Alex's tell tale cough and I ran over with another paper plate for him to puke on.  I ran over to where he was standing with his father.  Why do I mention that?  Because Travis was apparently just going to let him puke on the pool deck again.  And when I asked why he was puking again, this little gem landed on my eardrums:  He just totally slammed a ton of juice.  I mean, I tried to stop him, but he totally slammed a ton of it.

You "tried to stop him" huh?  You tried to stop your 3 year old son from drinking juice, and you didn't succeed?  He is 3.  You are 33.  You are 6.5 times his size.  You are his father.  You should really have the upper hand in this situation.

At least Alex didn't pee in their lawn.

Oh boy.

My brother-in-law made us make it official on Saturday.  Julie and I signed up for the Madison Mini.  I am signed up for another half marathon.  I'm worried about myself.  I think I have a sickness.  There has got to be something wrong with my brains.

My favorites

My mom took about 6 zillion pictures while we were home yesterday.

Do you like this close up?

Or this close up?

Both?  What a coincidence!  Me too!

Multiply the number of pictures my mom took by 47 and that would be how many times this happened:

And some people claim this one is evidence of where he gets his expressions/sass.  I suppose if you can look past my puffy, mascara smeared eyes and the cherry in my mouth and the cherry juice on his chin....maybe I can see it.

And then there's this guy:

See, not only was it our great nation's birthday yesterday, but it was also my dad's birthday.  People have called me a Daddy's girl before, like it was a bad thing.  Ha!  Hells yes I am a Daddy's girl!  Have you met the man?  The love, guidance, humor, pride and just general Awesome Dadness I have in my life is just too much to adequately convey.  I could try, but it all just seems like cliché dribble that Hallmark would barf out. Any way, I love him a whole lot.  And so does my husband.  And holy man so does my son.

Happy Birthday Daddy!

Get excited

"Ummmm...Happy 4th of July, I guess."

I'm back baby!

I went ahead and got myself a sweet case of food poisoning on Saturday night.  It had been a while since my last tango with that stomach wrenching beast, so I figured why not?  Sunday was a rough one, but thanks to my awesome family, I got some rest and Alex had a blast playing with his cousins, aunts, uncles, great aunts and Grandma and Grandpa Z.  I am positive my Aunt Mimi is thrilled I just articulated that she is, in fact, a great aunt.

Anywho, the past couple of days I have been living in the land of Queasy Stomachville.  But today?  Not today people!  I felt great this morning and headed out for a 4 mile run.  And since it wasn't hotter than Satan's butthole out there this morning, I ran right past 4 and on to 5.  It was a little slower pace than I would have liked, but you can't win 'em all!

3

As of last Friday, I have a three year old.  It's nutty.  I don't really have much to say about it.  He is a total typical 3 year old pill sometimes and I can barely stand to be around him, and other times I can't stop telling him how much I love him.  We are a work in progress, he and I.

Speaking of works in progress, I present to you:  The Playset!

We just have the roof and the safety rails, 'cause, you know, safety third!  I use the term "we" very loosely...I am helping, but pretty  much just standing there holding things that need to be screwed together.  Any way, the beast loves it.  I am so proud of Travis, he busted his ass on this for the last two weeks and so far it has turned out great.