Friday, August 31, 2012
Winning.
You know what's super fun? Cramming 2 beds worth of sheets into the wash machine while finding little nooks and crannies for your son's nasty socks and then reading the directions on the OxiClean you are using for the first time. You know, the directions that tell you, in bold font, to put the OxiClean in your washer before you put the laundry in.
Shot to the Heart
I don't like you, Mom.
That's the phrase that came out of my 3 year old's mouth yesterday when he was mad at me for telling him he needed to ride his bike on the sidewalk instead of in people's yards.
Add that to the stench of this kid's feet and his ability to drop an absolutely rancid fart, and I am pretty sure we have a teenager on our hands.
That's the phrase that came out of my 3 year old's mouth yesterday when he was mad at me for telling him he needed to ride his bike on the sidewalk instead of in people's yards.
Add that to the stench of this kid's feet and his ability to drop an absolutely rancid fart, and I am pretty sure we have a teenager on our hands.
Wednesday, August 29, 2012
Cheeeeeese!
Alex is really into taking pictures, looking at pictures, watching videos of himself. The amount of time I spend deleting usually out of focus pictures with part of a random subject in them is borderline ridiculous. So many pictures like this:
But, it makes him happy and is prodding his artistic synapses, so I keep my delete button pushing finger in shape. I wish I could show you the video he watched 8 times in a row last night of him playing with his Bop Bag. I would post it, but I am a bit on the electronically learning impaired side, and I can't figure it out.
Aaaaaanyway, after the 8 back to back viewings, he asked me if he could take a picture, so I handed over my phone and he told Travis to hold still and say cheese. And then he wanted me to take a picture of him. As I raised the phone up to get him in the shot, he quickly said, "Wait! I need to get something!" And he came back like this:
Fashion. Icon.
Aaaaaanyway, after the 8 back to back viewings, he asked me if he could take a picture, so I handed over my phone and he told Travis to hold still and say cheese. And then he wanted me to take a picture of him. As I raised the phone up to get him in the shot, he quickly said, "Wait! I need to get something!" And he came back like this:
Tuesday, August 28, 2012
Sharing the Magic
Last night, Alex was helping me with some laundry. And I mean, since it was all laundry due to the fact he pees more than any human boy throughout the night, it was nice that he was lending a helping hand. I taught him how to fold a blanket and he opened the drawer to put it away. That's when his little eyes landed on a different blanket! One he hasn't seen in a while! MOM WHERE DID THIS COME FROM?!?
I told him it was one from when he was a little baby, to which he responded like I had just jarred his memory of being 3 months old, "Oh yeah...it's my favorite." Oh really? I think Brown Elephant Blanket might want to be part of this conversation. The mere mention of his beloved made him reconsider and deem both blankets his favorite. What does that mean you ask? It means I get to wrestle with yet another blanket every night and every morning and every laundry day. I can't really be too irritated though because my love of blankets is rivaled only by my love of a good pillow, so I can throw no stones.
I was abruptly stopped this morning when I dared to try to leave the house with only Brown Elephant Blanket. How could I even think of leaving Blue Puppy Blanket behind? How did I not know one of the babies needed to use one of these sacred blankets? Well dude, I am still trying to understand how your little mind spins, so cut me some slack.
When we got to daycare, he immediately went into the baby room to asses the pending blanket needs. Blue Puppy Blanket was spread out flat on the floor for a play surface for one baby, and Brown Elephant Blanket was tucked into a swing with the son of the director of daycare. I left as I could see the amount of instructions he was spouting off to the teachers in the baby room was going to take some time.
About three hours later, I received a picture message from said director of her son fast asleep, with Brown Elephant Blanket snuggled all around him. The accompanying message said that not once, but twice, he went to sleep with the blanket without a single fuss. Not a normal occurrence for this little one. I replied that this blanket holds some serious magic since merely taking it away from Alex has taught him to keep his hands to himself. Her response? Well that for sure makes me believer!
I told him it was one from when he was a little baby, to which he responded like I had just jarred his memory of being 3 months old, "Oh yeah...it's my favorite." Oh really? I think Brown Elephant Blanket might want to be part of this conversation. The mere mention of his beloved made him reconsider and deem both blankets his favorite. What does that mean you ask? It means I get to wrestle with yet another blanket every night and every morning and every laundry day. I can't really be too irritated though because my love of blankets is rivaled only by my love of a good pillow, so I can throw no stones.
I was abruptly stopped this morning when I dared to try to leave the house with only Brown Elephant Blanket. How could I even think of leaving Blue Puppy Blanket behind? How did I not know one of the babies needed to use one of these sacred blankets? Well dude, I am still trying to understand how your little mind spins, so cut me some slack.
When we got to daycare, he immediately went into the baby room to asses the pending blanket needs. Blue Puppy Blanket was spread out flat on the floor for a play surface for one baby, and Brown Elephant Blanket was tucked into a swing with the son of the director of daycare. I left as I could see the amount of instructions he was spouting off to the teachers in the baby room was going to take some time.
About three hours later, I received a picture message from said director of her son fast asleep, with Brown Elephant Blanket snuggled all around him. The accompanying message said that not once, but twice, he went to sleep with the blanket without a single fuss. Not a normal occurrence for this little one. I replied that this blanket holds some serious magic since merely taking it away from Alex has taught him to keep his hands to himself. Her response? Well that for sure makes me believer!
Mom who?
Holy boundary testing Batman! I was gone for the weekend being silly with 5 of my favorite people, so Alex and Travis were on their own. And apparently they really enjoyed themselves. Sunday and yesterday were tough ones for the beast and me. I just don't understand how 2 days can completely erase close to everything we have taught him about how to interact with people. Well, people other than Travis. Travis can do no wrong now.
This morning was better, but I'm not sure I'm going to be able to handle my 3 year old telling me I am frustrating him one more time.
This morning was better, but I'm not sure I'm going to be able to handle my 3 year old telling me I am frustrating him one more time.
Thursday, August 23, 2012
Alex & Julio
I don't want to jinx it, but I am super happy, so here goes:
The Brown Blanket Deal seems to be working. He has had possession of said blanket for 4 days in a row. And he has been excited about it every day when I pick him up in the afternoon. I always ask how his day was and the last three days he has said, "Goooooooood. I get to keep my brown blankeeeeee!" Sweet music to my ears.
He has been less monstrous at home this week as well. Not sure why, but I do not care. It is so nice to have fun days with him instead of trying with every fiber of my being to not lock him in the basement and occasionally throw down a water bottle and some Cheez-Its. It also has allowed for a lot more dialogue since I am not on a constant repeat of NO!, STOP IT!, or DON'T BAM THE DOG!
My favorite saying of his as of late is "last week...blah blah blah." Everything he wants to tell me happened last week. That field trip they took yesterday? Nope. Last week. The massive monster slaying expedition he and I undertook last night? Nope. Last week. And he starts the story the exact same way each time...
Mama? Last week, (mouth smack, mouth smack, mouth smack) last week we *insert whatever activity he participated in anywhere from 5 minutes ago to 5 days ago*.
With all this cute and good behavior, there must be something naughty mixed in, right? I mean this is the one and only Alex "Julio" Julius. Well, this child does not disappoint. Yesterday (not last week mind you), he asked me something and I didn't hear him so I asked him to repeat it. He just looked at me with a completely exhausted expression, stuck his arms out with palms up, sighed the world's heaviest sigh, and asked, "How many times do I have to tell you?!?!"
The Brown Blanket Deal seems to be working. He has had possession of said blanket for 4 days in a row. And he has been excited about it every day when I pick him up in the afternoon. I always ask how his day was and the last three days he has said, "Goooooooood. I get to keep my brown blankeeeeee!" Sweet music to my ears.
He has been less monstrous at home this week as well. Not sure why, but I do not care. It is so nice to have fun days with him instead of trying with every fiber of my being to not lock him in the basement and occasionally throw down a water bottle and some Cheez-Its. It also has allowed for a lot more dialogue since I am not on a constant repeat of NO!, STOP IT!, or DON'T BAM THE DOG!
My favorite saying of his as of late is "last week...blah blah blah." Everything he wants to tell me happened last week. That field trip they took yesterday? Nope. Last week. The massive monster slaying expedition he and I undertook last night? Nope. Last week. And he starts the story the exact same way each time...
Mama? Last week, (mouth smack, mouth smack, mouth smack) last week we *insert whatever activity he participated in anywhere from 5 minutes ago to 5 days ago*.
With all this cute and good behavior, there must be something naughty mixed in, right? I mean this is the one and only Alex "Julio" Julius. Well, this child does not disappoint. Yesterday (not last week mind you), he asked me something and I didn't hear him so I asked him to repeat it. He just looked at me with a completely exhausted expression, stuck his arms out with palms up, sighed the world's heaviest sigh, and asked, "How many times do I have to tell you?!?!"
Tuesday, August 21, 2012
Yep, he's 3
Alex's shoes really needed to be replaced. They are Lightning McQueen shoes and he wears them every single day. They have little lights in the back and the side of the sole that light up when he walks. Good good. Except when the shoes get worn every single day, the side with the little lights stays all formed, but the other side kinda collapses, so his feet were tilting inward. Since I am fairly certain I am psychologically screwing this kid up, I figured I should get new shoes before I physical screw him up. His feet are still very Flintstone-esque, so finding shoes that aren't too tight ain't easy.
I didn't want him to insist on another pair of the same shoes, so we avoided Target and went to Famous Footwear. This little adventure proved to me that there is yet another facet of parenting where having a girl is easier. There are 2 entire aisles of little girl shoes to choose from. There are 8 pairs of little boys shoes to choose from. No lie. And they all sucked. Off to Target.
Alex immediately saw the Lightning McQueen ones and I was about to give in until they didn't have his size. They had one pair a size too small and one pair two sizes too big. My little Goldilocks tried them both on, deemed them unfit, and then put them back in the boxes. But not correctly. He had one of each size in each box. In an effort to be a friendly Target Team Shopper, I corrected the situation. Hoooooooly shitballs, Goldilocks was NOT cool with that. He threw a complete fit, including throwing each one of the four shoes in opposite directions. Now mind you, this is all while he is wearing a different pair of shoes that he has decided are the best ever and he won't take them off because they make him really fast and "we have to wear them before we can pay for them." He was beside himself about me moving the shoes. I gave up, let him put them how he wanted and we left the shoe section like rockets before anyone could find our little mismatch. Good thing his new shoes made him so fast.
On the way to the check-out, I remembered we really need some new bath towels. Alex was perfectly amused by playing with the largest bath mat I have ever seen, so I was free to take my time making a very easy decision. Didn't matter how much time I had, my dumb ass couldn't decide between two different shades of purple, so I asked my little terror's opinion. According to him, we needed all four. And when I put two back on the shelf, you would have thought I was taking a KitKat right out of his mouth. He freaked out. Such a bad freak out in fact, I had no choice but to leave him laying there in a sad, wailing pile of child and walk away. Which then led to me walking down the main aisle of Target with him trailing about 15 feet behind me, scream-crying, "Maaaaaaaaamammamamaaaaaaaa!" And the second I would turn around to acknowledge him, he would crumple to the floor. I finally won the battle and we were on our way. I offered people places in my Parenting 101 class, but shockingly nobody was interested.
Within 7 minutes of being home, he announced the shoes were not the right ones because I had put them in the wrong box. Now, had it been this pair that brought about The Great Shoebox Debacle of 2012, I would have gotten where he was coming from. But it wasn't. We didn't even buy the ones that were in the wrong boxes. For some reason this turned into another meltdown, but this time I could just put him in his room and not be judged by my fellow Target shoppers. Mariah was lucky enough to witness, but she was nice enough not to judge.
He was excited to show the flippin' shoes to Travis, so I thought we were on the path to freedom from shoe infused meltdowns. As he was showing them to Travis, he said, "These aren't the right ones. Mom put them in the wrong box." I just about lost it. I snatched the shoes out of his grubby little hands and in the calmest voice I could muster, I told him that after he went to bed, I was going to go back to the store and get the ones that were in the right box, that look EXACTLY like these. Aaaand he totally bought it. Didn't even bat an eye when I put them on him this morning.
Pretty sure he is certifiable.
I didn't want him to insist on another pair of the same shoes, so we avoided Target and went to Famous Footwear. This little adventure proved to me that there is yet another facet of parenting where having a girl is easier. There are 2 entire aisles of little girl shoes to choose from. There are 8 pairs of little boys shoes to choose from. No lie. And they all sucked. Off to Target.
Alex immediately saw the Lightning McQueen ones and I was about to give in until they didn't have his size. They had one pair a size too small and one pair two sizes too big. My little Goldilocks tried them both on, deemed them unfit, and then put them back in the boxes. But not correctly. He had one of each size in each box. In an effort to be a friendly Target Team Shopper, I corrected the situation. Hoooooooly shitballs, Goldilocks was NOT cool with that. He threw a complete fit, including throwing each one of the four shoes in opposite directions. Now mind you, this is all while he is wearing a different pair of shoes that he has decided are the best ever and he won't take them off because they make him really fast and "we have to wear them before we can pay for them." He was beside himself about me moving the shoes. I gave up, let him put them how he wanted and we left the shoe section like rockets before anyone could find our little mismatch. Good thing his new shoes made him so fast.
On the way to the check-out, I remembered we really need some new bath towels. Alex was perfectly amused by playing with the largest bath mat I have ever seen, so I was free to take my time making a very easy decision. Didn't matter how much time I had, my dumb ass couldn't decide between two different shades of purple, so I asked my little terror's opinion. According to him, we needed all four. And when I put two back on the shelf, you would have thought I was taking a KitKat right out of his mouth. He freaked out. Such a bad freak out in fact, I had no choice but to leave him laying there in a sad, wailing pile of child and walk away. Which then led to me walking down the main aisle of Target with him trailing about 15 feet behind me, scream-crying, "Maaaaaaaaamammamamaaaaaaaa!" And the second I would turn around to acknowledge him, he would crumple to the floor. I finally won the battle and we were on our way. I offered people places in my Parenting 101 class, but shockingly nobody was interested.
Within 7 minutes of being home, he announced the shoes were not the right ones because I had put them in the wrong box. Now, had it been this pair that brought about The Great Shoebox Debacle of 2012, I would have gotten where he was coming from. But it wasn't. We didn't even buy the ones that were in the wrong boxes. For some reason this turned into another meltdown, but this time I could just put him in his room and not be judged by my fellow Target shoppers. Mariah was lucky enough to witness, but she was nice enough not to judge.
He was excited to show the flippin' shoes to Travis, so I thought we were on the path to freedom from shoe infused meltdowns. As he was showing them to Travis, he said, "These aren't the right ones. Mom put them in the wrong box." I just about lost it. I snatched the shoes out of his grubby little hands and in the calmest voice I could muster, I told him that after he went to bed, I was going to go back to the store and get the ones that were in the right box, that look EXACTLY like these. Aaaand he totally bought it. Didn't even bat an eye when I put them on him this morning.
Pretty sure he is certifiable.
C'mon now
It has begun. The fall anxiety. The pit in my stomach knowing school is starting soon and summer is almost over. What's that you say? I graduated long ago and no longer have to go to school? Neat! Now, if you could just convince whatever part of my brain it is that doesn't understand that little fact, it would be greatly appreciated.
Seriously, I haven't gone to anything resembling school for 11 years. Let's get over this, brain.
Seriously, I haven't gone to anything resembling school for 11 years. Let's get over this, brain.
Monday, August 20, 2012
From what I was told, Alex was really good about being dragged all over town during the race. After some confused looks, he was finally excited to see us.
He was pretty much himself when I got done...
But holy man, I love that kid.
Grandma was nice enough to take him to the bathroom when we were hanging out after the race. There was a slight aiming mishap and he came back with wet pants. So, being the classy mom I am, I let him run around the Memorial Union Terrace pantsless.
13.1 once again
Madison Mini: Done!
Thanks to Julie's long legs and faster pace, we finished a whole bunch faster than the race in Nashville; 2 hours, 23 minutes. I would also like to contribute that to the lack of hills, humidity and heat. My leg held out and is feeling pretty good. I somehow managed to hurt my foot somewhere along the line, but I'm sure we'll get that sorted too.
It was so much fun and so energizing having people we knew there to cheer us on throughout the course. We had 9 cheerleaders between the two of us that scampered all over Madison to make sure they were there to keep us going. It's amazing how much a friendly face cheering you on puts a pep back in your step. I didn't have the urge to break down bawling at the end this time...until I hugged my mom. And then we cried like little sissy girls.
My body's still in recovery mode so Kari's invite/demand to fix my foot so I can run another half with her in November was not exactly eagerly met. But as Mariah said, "Give it a day or two."
Thanks to Julie's long legs and faster pace, we finished a whole bunch faster than the race in Nashville; 2 hours, 23 minutes. I would also like to contribute that to the lack of hills, humidity and heat. My leg held out and is feeling pretty good. I somehow managed to hurt my foot somewhere along the line, but I'm sure we'll get that sorted too.
It was so much fun and so energizing having people we knew there to cheer us on throughout the course. We had 9 cheerleaders between the two of us that scampered all over Madison to make sure they were there to keep us going. It's amazing how much a friendly face cheering you on puts a pep back in your step. I didn't have the urge to break down bawling at the end this time...until I hugged my mom. And then we cried like little sissy girls.
My body's still in recovery mode so Kari's invite/demand to fix my foot so I can run another half with her in November was not exactly eagerly met. But as Mariah said, "Give it a day or two."
Thursday, August 16, 2012
Damn
Well, if yesterday is any indicator, the Brown Blanket Deal is not the solution. He didn't get to sleep with his blanket at day care yesterday because he hit someone; he had to sleep with one of day care's extra blankets. Which I am sure is a perfectly fine blanket, but it isn't his blanket, so we were hopin' that cause and effect was understood.
I have to admit, he kinda seemed over the shock and horror of having his blanket taken away. Not cool. When I got there yesterday and his teacher was telling me why he didn't have his blanket, I looked at him and said, "Well I guess we have to put it away until tomorrow night." He said he understood but then was totally like, "ya, sure, ok, great, I got it...come look at these Legos."
I am hoping this is another one of those things like the biting and the sitting on other kids and potty training, where while we are in the thick of it, there seems to be no way out. Maybe today the light will start busting through the end of the Whack-a-Mole tunnel.
I have to admit, he kinda seemed over the shock and horror of having his blanket taken away. Not cool. When I got there yesterday and his teacher was telling me why he didn't have his blanket, I looked at him and said, "Well I guess we have to put it away until tomorrow night." He said he understood but then was totally like, "ya, sure, ok, great, I got it...come look at these Legos."
I am hoping this is another one of those things like the biting and the sitting on other kids and potty training, where while we are in the thick of it, there seems to be no way out. Maybe today the light will start busting through the end of the Whack-a-Mole tunnel.
Wednesday, August 15, 2012
It's a start
Day 1 of the Brown Blanket Deal was a success. There were no terrible reports and he didn't hit a single person. He did apparently "swat" at this one kid while climbing up the slide ladder. But those two are constantly at each other, and the other kid was also guilty of said swatting. So there.
One day at a time.
One day at a time.
Tuesday, August 14, 2012
Beaver Cleaver He Ain't
Yesterday's pick-up from day care marked the worst yet.
Everything seemed fine, there was no screaming when I opened the door and Alex came running to me all smiles. But then I saw his teacher's face, and the Incident Report slip in her hand. There was also an Ouch Report, but that was just because he is clumsy like his mother. The incident...
Apparently, Alex thought it was complete acceptable to wrap his blanket around one of his classmate's head and face. And when she yelled for him to stop, he held the blanket in place and told her to shut up. Let's just pause so I can add "Suffocating Classmate" to his baby book list of mile stones. I'm pretty sure it's a subset of "Steps to Becoming a Serial Killer."
While he was sitting in his well deserved time out, he kept saying that he just wanted to talk to her and tell her he was sorry. Yeah...when the crime would most likely evoke the usage of capital punishment in Texas, "sorry" doesn't quite cut it. And, all of this was in addition to his teacher having to tell him a zillion times that it is not ok to hit people. Especially when you hit them for no reason...Seriously, this kid will just run by someone and whack them on the way past.
As I did my best to not break down while simultaneously assuring my smiling child that it was NOT FUNNY, I asked his teacher if she had any suggestions for a plan of attack. Clearly time outs are not producing the desired effect and saying no just seems silly at this point. She said nothing came to mind right away, but that she would "go through her old teaching text books" to see if she could find anything. Yep. That's right. My child's behavior is forcing his teacher to do research to figure out how to deal with him. I'm surprised people don't have to constantly wear sunglasses around me to shield their eyes from the glowing pride I walk around with on a daily basis.
We got home and sat down to have a serious talk about this over a red pepper. And I came up with this deal: If he hits someone, he doesn't get to have his brown elephant blanket for an entire day. You would have thought I told him I was gonna cut off a finger for every time he hit someone by the look of shock on his face. He is super attached to the brown elephant blanket lately. But, he agreed it was fair and he understood the deal. When Travis got home, I asked Alex if he wanted to tell Daddy what happened or if I should. He very quickly told me I should. So I did. And then I told Travis the Blanket Deal. Travis immediately asked what we would do when he had a good day. Ok Captain Positive Reinforcement. I was thinking being allowed to have continued use of the brown elephant blanket was award enough, but since you put in it his head...kit kat? Perfect.
The rest of the night was pretty trying, but Alex finally calmed down and was very well behaved during story time and went to bed without protest. Within 2 minutes of me closing his door, I hear, "Mom! MOM! Mooooooom!" Instantly my feelings of sweet relief from a smooth bedtime vanished. So I went into his room and asked what he needed.
Mom? I love you. That's what I needed to tell you.
I managed to squeak out a "love you too buddy" before I got all choked up. I had to laugh as my heart was busting out of my chest...Man that kid knows when he has pushed me to my limit...and knows exactly how to reel me back in.
Everything seemed fine, there was no screaming when I opened the door and Alex came running to me all smiles. But then I saw his teacher's face, and the Incident Report slip in her hand. There was also an Ouch Report, but that was just because he is clumsy like his mother. The incident...
Apparently, Alex thought it was complete acceptable to wrap his blanket around one of his classmate's head and face. And when she yelled for him to stop, he held the blanket in place and told her to shut up. Let's just pause so I can add "Suffocating Classmate" to his baby book list of mile stones. I'm pretty sure it's a subset of "Steps to Becoming a Serial Killer."
While he was sitting in his well deserved time out, he kept saying that he just wanted to talk to her and tell her he was sorry. Yeah...when the crime would most likely evoke the usage of capital punishment in Texas, "sorry" doesn't quite cut it. And, all of this was in addition to his teacher having to tell him a zillion times that it is not ok to hit people. Especially when you hit them for no reason...Seriously, this kid will just run by someone and whack them on the way past.
As I did my best to not break down while simultaneously assuring my smiling child that it was NOT FUNNY, I asked his teacher if she had any suggestions for a plan of attack. Clearly time outs are not producing the desired effect and saying no just seems silly at this point. She said nothing came to mind right away, but that she would "go through her old teaching text books" to see if she could find anything. Yep. That's right. My child's behavior is forcing his teacher to do research to figure out how to deal with him. I'm surprised people don't have to constantly wear sunglasses around me to shield their eyes from the glowing pride I walk around with on a daily basis.
We got home and sat down to have a serious talk about this over a red pepper. And I came up with this deal: If he hits someone, he doesn't get to have his brown elephant blanket for an entire day. You would have thought I told him I was gonna cut off a finger for every time he hit someone by the look of shock on his face. He is super attached to the brown elephant blanket lately. But, he agreed it was fair and he understood the deal. When Travis got home, I asked Alex if he wanted to tell Daddy what happened or if I should. He very quickly told me I should. So I did. And then I told Travis the Blanket Deal. Travis immediately asked what we would do when he had a good day. Ok Captain Positive Reinforcement. I was thinking being allowed to have continued use of the brown elephant blanket was award enough, but since you put in it his head...kit kat? Perfect.
The rest of the night was pretty trying, but Alex finally calmed down and was very well behaved during story time and went to bed without protest. Within 2 minutes of me closing his door, I hear, "Mom! MOM! Mooooooom!" Instantly my feelings of sweet relief from a smooth bedtime vanished. So I went into his room and asked what he needed.
Mom? I love you. That's what I needed to tell you.
I managed to squeak out a "love you too buddy" before I got all choked up. I had to laugh as my heart was busting out of my chest...Man that kid knows when he has pushed me to my limit...and knows exactly how to reel me back in.
Monday, August 13, 2012
The Griswold's
We took a little family road trip to Underwood, MN to visit Travis's grandma. It's just under an 8 hour drive. With a 3 year old. Fun Fun FUN!
As you can see, Alex was not exactly helpful when it came to packing...at least he wasn't peeing in them.
We left after work on Thursday night, so we got all packed up and took off at 7pm. The plan was that we would drive for a bit, stop to eat something, get back on the road and Alex would sleep the whole way. And for the first time pretty much ever, our plan totally worked. He slept the whole way except for waking up once when we switched drivers.
All of this success was after a potty incident. We were about 45 minutes from home and Alex said he had to pee. Problem was that the next exit was a good 15 minutes away. Trav asked if he could hold it and he said yes. About 10 minutes later he told me he really had to pee. So I asked Trav to help him pee in an empty milk bottle that was in the car. Travis looked at me like I was nuts. And I was like, "Ummm...isn't that kinda one of the handy things about being a boy?" Trav decided to remind Alex to hold it instead. Wanna guess what happened? K, but you only get three guesses, and the first two don't count. Of course he peed in his car seat. It took every fiber in my being to not slap Travis the second Alex said, "I peed in my underwear." And I could not contain myself when Travis had the balls to ask Alex, "What happened buddy? You said you could hold it." I just looked at him, called him a bad name and reminded him HE IS THREE, YOU IDIOT. Whatever, a change of clothes and about 12 thousand paper towels at a gas station and all was fixed. Onward!
Travis's grandma has every knick-knack ever created displayed throughout her house. Cool to look at for adults. Not cool for adults that are trying to wrangle a 38lb bundle of What's this? He did think this one was pretty cool. The look is because I asked him if he could fit in there.
Not gonna lie, I was straight up scared for the ride home. We left at 10:30 in the morning in hopes a movie would keep him awake until lunch and then he would sleep...for, ya know, 6 hours or something. That plan did not work. He feel asleep almost instantly, for an hour. And then he was awake. For the rest of the trip. Shockingly, aside from a 10 minute melt down, he was totally fine. I mean there were a half dozen snap peas launched at me while I was driving and Travis had to try to capture Alex's feet about a zillion times, but other than that it was a pretty good insanely long drive. But man it's good to be home.
As you can see, Alex was not exactly helpful when it came to packing...at least he wasn't peeing in them.
We left after work on Thursday night, so we got all packed up and took off at 7pm. The plan was that we would drive for a bit, stop to eat something, get back on the road and Alex would sleep the whole way. And for the first time pretty much ever, our plan totally worked. He slept the whole way except for waking up once when we switched drivers.
All of this success was after a potty incident. We were about 45 minutes from home and Alex said he had to pee. Problem was that the next exit was a good 15 minutes away. Trav asked if he could hold it and he said yes. About 10 minutes later he told me he really had to pee. So I asked Trav to help him pee in an empty milk bottle that was in the car. Travis looked at me like I was nuts. And I was like, "Ummm...isn't that kinda one of the handy things about being a boy?" Trav decided to remind Alex to hold it instead. Wanna guess what happened? K, but you only get three guesses, and the first two don't count. Of course he peed in his car seat. It took every fiber in my being to not slap Travis the second Alex said, "I peed in my underwear." And I could not contain myself when Travis had the balls to ask Alex, "What happened buddy? You said you could hold it." I just looked at him, called him a bad name and reminded him HE IS THREE, YOU IDIOT. Whatever, a change of clothes and about 12 thousand paper towels at a gas station and all was fixed. Onward!
Travis's grandma has every knick-knack ever created displayed throughout her house. Cool to look at for adults. Not cool for adults that are trying to wrangle a 38lb bundle of What's this? He did think this one was pretty cool. The look is because I asked him if he could fit in there.
Not gonna lie, I was straight up scared for the ride home. We left at 10:30 in the morning in hopes a movie would keep him awake until lunch and then he would sleep...for, ya know, 6 hours or something. That plan did not work. He feel asleep almost instantly, for an hour. And then he was awake. For the rest of the trip. Shockingly, aside from a 10 minute melt down, he was totally fine. I mean there were a half dozen snap peas launched at me while I was driving and Travis had to try to capture Alex's feet about a zillion times, but other than that it was a pretty good insanely long drive. But man it's good to be home.
Thursday, August 9, 2012
Big day
Upon arriving at day care on Tuesday afternoon, I found his shorts, underwear and socks laid out on a railing, completely soaking wet and my child running around in a girls' pair of pants with an awesome butterfly on the butt pocket. Did he have an accident? Nope. He got some paint on his shorts during art time and decided he needed to wash it off in the sink in the bathroom after peeing. How and why his underwear and socks were included is beyond me. I gathered up the sopping bundle and threw it in the wash when we got home.
Wednesday morning, I happened to grab the same shorts, now freshly laundered. I saw that the paint hadn't completely come out, but whatever; he was just going to get them all dirty at day care again so what's the difference. Um, yeah, the difference, you dumb dumb dumb mom, is that this kid clearly was not OK with wearing shorts that have paint on them. Duh.
But yesterday, he upped the anti. Not only did he again attempt to wash his shorts in the sink, he did that immediately after he had plugged the toilet with a mountain of toilet paper. Nothin' half-assed from this kid. And of course his teacher slipped in the water and banged her knee into the wall. He accomplished all this and hit enough people that we had to have a little talk with his teacher.
I almost lost it right there. Between being pissed off about my leg hurting and forgetting to take my stopbeingcrazy pills, the additional wonderful news of Alex's antics just about put me over the edge.
Wednesday morning, I happened to grab the same shorts, now freshly laundered. I saw that the paint hadn't completely come out, but whatever; he was just going to get them all dirty at day care again so what's the difference. Um, yeah, the difference, you dumb dumb dumb mom, is that this kid clearly was not OK with wearing shorts that have paint on them. Duh.
But yesterday, he upped the anti. Not only did he again attempt to wash his shorts in the sink, he did that immediately after he had plugged the toilet with a mountain of toilet paper. Nothin' half-assed from this kid. And of course his teacher slipped in the water and banged her knee into the wall. He accomplished all this and hit enough people that we had to have a little talk with his teacher.
I almost lost it right there. Between being pissed off about my leg hurting and forgetting to take my stopbeingcrazy pills, the additional wonderful news of Alex's antics just about put me over the edge.
Tuesday, August 7, 2012
Ruuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuun
12 days 'til race day. Only 15 more miles of training left. I have to say the schedule I used this time was much more manageable. Running only 3 times a week instead of 4 is so much better. And the longest run on this one is 10 miles, not 12. The low-key feeling this schedule has is making me slightly concerned that I am not ready. But, too late now! The fact that I totally kicked 7 miles' ass on Sunday doesn't hurt the confidence though.
Yesterday's run was only 3 miles and I tell you it felt like a sprint distance! I love me some tapering down before a race. It felt like such a short distance in fact, I decided to run at 9 minute miles. Yay! Until, with a 1/4 mile left, I felt a sharp PING! in my right hamstring. Yeah, the one that I blew up last summer, that one. I am pretty sure it's going to be fine with some consistent ice and ibuprofen, but I am not happy. The thought of training for 12 weeks to end up not being able to run is absolutely sickening.
One of Alex's teachers is also running this race and while I was whining about my leg to her this morning, Alex jumped in the conversation to tell her that just last week, his "mama ran alllll the way to Mexico and alllll the way back." I am never showing him a map.
Yesterday's run was only 3 miles and I tell you it felt like a sprint distance! I love me some tapering down before a race. It felt like such a short distance in fact, I decided to run at 9 minute miles. Yay! Until, with a 1/4 mile left, I felt a sharp PING! in my right hamstring. Yeah, the one that I blew up last summer, that one. I am pretty sure it's going to be fine with some consistent ice and ibuprofen, but I am not happy. The thought of training for 12 weeks to end up not being able to run is absolutely sickening.
One of Alex's teachers is also running this race and while I was whining about my leg to her this morning, Alex jumped in the conversation to tell her that just last week, his "mama ran alllll the way to Mexico and alllll the way back." I am never showing him a map.
Monday, August 6, 2012
Boy's boy
Well, Alex has broken his first window. He and Trevor were practicing for the upcoming tour of their new band on Saturday evening. As lovely as the music was, it was requested they only practice in Alex's play room. With the door closed.
Alex is apparently the main percussion man of this two man band, while Trevor was heading up the keyboard and vocals. Not a bad combo. Until the percussion man decides his plastic maracas would be best played on the single pane windows separating the play room and the living room. I heard two hits and then a crack. As I got up to assess the damage, I first saw Trevor standing in front of a spider webbed window, his eyes bigger than crash cymbals, looking terrified and pointing at Alex. Alex on the other hand was winding up for another maraca exclamation point.
Both boys were scolded, poor Trevor got in trouble by association. He should really learn to hang with a better crowd. Alex, of course, was scolded for the broken window. The time spent in his room really shone through as an effective punishment when later in the evening he pointed at the broken window and laughingly asked me why he did that. Ya got me kiddo.
All was right again on Sunday morning and we were going about our normal day. Alex and I built a fort out of a comforter I had hanging on four lawn chairs since our dryer just can't seem to get that one dry. While he was making pretend vanilla and chocolate pizzas to force feed the dog and me, I decided to water the plants. Here's the thing. The watering can we have is not quite big enough to water all of the plants with one fill up. So I left the hose on, but with a sprayer attachment so it wasn't just water running all over the place, while I walked around the corner of the house. Yeah.
About 28 seconds into watering, I realized I didn't hear any pizza prep going on so I yelled to Alex to see what he was doing. No answer. Never good when there is no answer. I came around to the back steps to find my little darling sitting on a step, with his elbows propped up on his knees, and the hose on full blast soaking its target, my comforter.
It is a really good thing I have figured out that I like gin again. Tanqueray, take me away.
Alex is apparently the main percussion man of this two man band, while Trevor was heading up the keyboard and vocals. Not a bad combo. Until the percussion man decides his plastic maracas would be best played on the single pane windows separating the play room and the living room. I heard two hits and then a crack. As I got up to assess the damage, I first saw Trevor standing in front of a spider webbed window, his eyes bigger than crash cymbals, looking terrified and pointing at Alex. Alex on the other hand was winding up for another maraca exclamation point.
Both boys were scolded, poor Trevor got in trouble by association. He should really learn to hang with a better crowd. Alex, of course, was scolded for the broken window. The time spent in his room really shone through as an effective punishment when later in the evening he pointed at the broken window and laughingly asked me why he did that. Ya got me kiddo.
All was right again on Sunday morning and we were going about our normal day. Alex and I built a fort out of a comforter I had hanging on four lawn chairs since our dryer just can't seem to get that one dry. While he was making pretend vanilla and chocolate pizzas to force feed the dog and me, I decided to water the plants. Here's the thing. The watering can we have is not quite big enough to water all of the plants with one fill up. So I left the hose on, but with a sprayer attachment so it wasn't just water running all over the place, while I walked around the corner of the house. Yeah.
About 28 seconds into watering, I realized I didn't hear any pizza prep going on so I yelled to Alex to see what he was doing. No answer. Never good when there is no answer. I came around to the back steps to find my little darling sitting on a step, with his elbows propped up on his knees, and the hose on full blast soaking its target, my comforter.
It is a really good thing I have figured out that I like gin again. Tanqueray, take me away.
Friday, August 3, 2012
Ring! Ring! Ring!
I discovered Alex knows the words to Call Me Maybe. I have no clue when or where he has ever heard this song before, but Wednesday night, he was singin' right along with the chorus. Not sure if I am scared or proud.
Thursday, August 2, 2012
The Acorn and the Tree
Kids pay attention and absorb way more than you think. For example, Alex must have been watching and learning classy behavior yesterday when I was coloring my shoe and decided he needed to fit in with the fancy level of our family.
What other possible explanation is there for my 3 year old son digging a finished Budweiser King Can out of the recycling bin and tipping it back to get that last swallow his dad neglected yesterday? There is no other explanation. He is just that classy.
Or, you know, I am raising the world's youngest alcoholic. Potato, potahto.
What other possible explanation is there for my 3 year old son digging a finished Budweiser King Can out of the recycling bin and tipping it back to get that last swallow his dad neglected yesterday? There is no other explanation. He is just that classy.
Or, you know, I am raising the world's youngest alcoholic. Potato, potahto.
Wednesday, August 1, 2012
Faaaancy
Today's Classy Moment of the Day is brought to you by the need to wear nice clothes to the office today because we have a visitor. This requires me to wear something on my feet other than flip flops. Which in turn required me to employ a Sharpie to color in the worn spots on the toes of my only pair of office appropriate heels.
Meaning
Alex has started really listening to song lyrics. He sings along to the shows he watches, and is pretty close to having the Backyardigans theme song nailed down. But he also has started paying attention to songs in the car or when I sing to him before bed. That is, if he lets me put him to bed which has not been the case as of late...somebody has become a lit-tle attached to his daddy. And no, I haven't called him a Daddy's boy...yet.
Aaanyway, the other day we were in the car and the song "Push" by Matchbox 20 came on. We got to the second chorus and he pipes up from the backseat, "It's not nice to push someone, Mom." True, but it kinda sounds like someone in this song is kind of a bitch, don't you think? And then the other night, I was singing "Cricket" to him. This is a song I have sung to him since he was an itty bitty screaming bundle of baby. Mostly because it is the only slow song that I know the lyrics to, but also because I really like the song. And after three years of hearing this song, he all of a sudden stops me and asks why someone would be scared. Well honey, for many reasons, one of which being scared of how one manages to not go absolutely bat-shit insane while living with someone that questions every single thing that happens every single day until they are old enough to move out. That's kinda scary wouldn't you say?
Aaanyway, the other day we were in the car and the song "Push" by Matchbox 20 came on. We got to the second chorus and he pipes up from the backseat, "It's not nice to push someone, Mom." True, but it kinda sounds like someone in this song is kind of a bitch, don't you think? And then the other night, I was singing "Cricket" to him. This is a song I have sung to him since he was an itty bitty screaming bundle of baby. Mostly because it is the only slow song that I know the lyrics to, but also because I really like the song. And after three years of hearing this song, he all of a sudden stops me and asks why someone would be scared. Well honey, for many reasons, one of which being scared of how one manages to not go absolutely bat-shit insane while living with someone that questions every single thing that happens every single day until they are old enough to move out. That's kinda scary wouldn't you say?
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