Friday, March 29, 2013


Recent background:  Three days ago, Travis left a beer sitting on the living room table.  I was in the kitchen and heard some slurping.  I looked over only to see my darling 3 year old with his head thrown back, drinking the beer.  I told him to stop and he looked at me grinning and announced, "Mama...I had FOUR sips."

Last night, Travis went outside to do something and left his glass of beer on the kitchen table.  Within seconds, I hear Mr. Alex clamoring on a chair.  I look and see his little arm stretched out trying to grab the beer with a very naughty gleam in his eye.  Obviously, I said no.  The following conversation then took place:

Me:  No!  You cannot have Daddy's beer!
Alex:  Please!  I want a beer!
Me:  No!!  No no no!  You are not allowed to have beer.
Alex (without missing a beat):  Can I have a glass of wine then?


Don't you worry, we've got this parenting thing nailed down.


When Dos had to be returned/flushed, I told Alex I would figure out what fish Uno would get along with so we could have more than one fish.  After consulting the Google machine, I decided on Neons.  I told him and said that since they are so small we could get two.  His eyes lit up and he said, "Can we get thfreeeeeee fish?"  Yes, we can get three.  "Gasp!  Can we get fooooouuuur fish?"  Sure, this has been a shit show thus far, let's go big.

So, Alex and I headed back to the freaking pet store yesterday afternoon to get four Neons.  The oh so nice salesman that sold us the handy dandy two fish tank dealymabobber in the first place greeted us and asked if we needed anything.  Yes, yes we do.  We need to go back in time and have you not suggest the tank you suggested.  But, since that ain't gonna happen, could you please get us 4 Neons?  He ambled on over to bag up the fish while Alex and I picked out a net and some food for said Neons.

Quick aside...when I took Dos back, I explained what happened and got credit.  This particular store guarantees their fish for 14 days.  However, if you then use the credit to buy more fish, the new fish are not guaranteed.  When the manager told me that, I looked at him like he had just spoken the dumbest words I'd ever heard.  Then I noticed he had the same look.  No point in debating it...this guy has no control over the rules the giant chain pet store lays down.  Yes, I went to a giant chain pet store.  I am fueling the mean old fish breeding conditions of the corporations.  I'm assuming they have fish mills just like puppy mills, right?

Back to yesterday.  We get the fish, the net and the food and go to check out.  The food was $1.99 and the net was $2.99.  The fish were $12.00.  I had a credit for $6.00.  Quick math shows some of this credit is going to be applied to the fish which would render them unguaranteed.  By the time the clerk figured out how to ring in the credit at all, I was ready to be done and frankly didn't care if these fish were guaranteed.  We paid the balance and headed home.

When we got home, we took the bag of fish into Alex's room to float the bag and let the water in the bag get to be the same as the tank.  Of course we were then engaged in a close inspection of the new fish.  Which is when we realized one of the new fish WAS ALREADY DEAD.  Yep.  Dead.  Dead before we even got home!  And then, then, THEN, within two hours of emptying the bag into the tank, a second one bit the dust.

I am so happy we decided to get fish.  So so happy.

Thursday, March 28, 2013


We have been talking about moving for quite some time.  But that would mean massive amounts of change so I was never even close to on board.  I don't know where this burr up my ass has come from, but I am suddenly unafraid of the change and ready to go.  Only problem is, now that I've overcome the change thing, I want this done like yesterday.  Go!

I pretty much really want a living room big enough that my boys can do this all the time...

Tuesday, March 26, 2013

Transcending life lesson

Yesterday had Monday status written all over it from the word go.  My alarm went off and I audibly sighed my disapproval.  But, instead of giving in to that feeling, I made a conscious choice to shake it off and have a good morning.  So I got up instead of hitting snooze again.  I started getting ready and then started a Backyardigans episode and fast forwarded far enough that it would be done in time for us to leave on time.  And then I woke up Alex.  He got dressed during the show and we were headed out the door on time for the first time in months.  The plan was working!

And then we got in the car.  I asked him to count so I could start the car.  He said he didn't want to.  Knowing better, I asked for clarification 4 times.  All 4 times he assured me that no, he did not want to count.  So I bit the bullet, started the car and braced for impact.  And it's a good thing I did.  Turning that key over opened the door to a shitstorm that lasted the entire trip to day care.  When he wasn't crying he was telling me he wanted to count but I didn't let him.  When I finally couldn't take it anymore, I snapped asking him "When?!  When were you going to count????  'Cause I asked you 4 times and you said no, so for my future reference could you please tell me WHEN you were going to tell me you wanted to count???!!??!"

Then bad turned to worse when we got into his room.  He didn't want me to leave and was throwing a sad fit.  A sad, loud, drawn out, tear stained fit.  And while he was doing this, I watched the minutes click by making me late to work...again.  I finally got out of there in one relatively in tact piece and just yelled and banged on the steering wheel for the first 2 miles of my drive to work.

Given the morning's activities, I figured he would have a red light day for sure.  Which was going to be made even better when we got home to a mauled and now dead for certain fish.  But when I got there, he was happy and on the green light.  Apparently the morning was awful, but after his nap he was great for the rest of the day.

We got home and he wanted to stay outside and shovel the snow in the yard.  Perfecto!  You stay out here and shovel, but I have to do something inside real quick like.  That something was retrieving Dos from his watery grave.  A quick side note...I didn't buy a net when we got everything else.  I don't know why, but I didn't.  So now I had to figure out how to get this fish out.  Luckily he was laying in one of the plants pretty close to the top.  I grabbed a spoon and a bag and headed in.  But when I touched him with the spoon, he swam away!  Now I had to grab a live fish without a net.  It turned out to be easier than anticipated.  He was so far on the brink of death, I easily scooped him up in a measuring cup.

I went outside and told Alex what was going on...kinda.  I told him Uno and Dos were NOT getting along so I had to take Dos out of the tank.  But then things go a bit to the lying side.  I told him I was going to take Dos back to the pet store(True!) so they could take care of him and make him feel better(Lie!), and that I would ask the pet store dude what fish Uno would get along with(True! but kinda with a hope that there are none).  He was totally on board with that.

As we were sitting down to read books before bed, Alex asked if he could, "talk to Uno a second."  Of course.  So he climbed up on his step stool, opened the 3"x1" little door on the top of the tank and gave Uno a little talking to.  " were not being nice to Dos.  It's not nice to wrestle your friends.  Mommy is going to find a different fish to live with you, but you have to be nice to your friends.  If you aren't nice to your friends, they won't play with you and you will be lonely.  Ok?  Ok."

I swear, like any moment now, someone is going to jump out of a cabinet and yell, "Surprise!  You're on Candid Camera!  For the last 3 years!"

Monday, March 25, 2013


Alex had 4 green light days in a row last week.  4 DAYS IN A ROW!  And then he was awesome all weekend.  Crazy, but awesome.  He was super polite and funny.  There was so much praise going on for every single good thing he did, it was a little nutty.  But I was just so happy he wasn't being horrible.  Now if the seasons could just follow his lead and be done with this crap weather, all would be right in the world.  You're on a whole big string of red lights Mother Nature.

On Friday after I picked him up, we went to the pet store to get dog food.  When you take him with, you best set aside a good hour you are willing to be in a pet store.  He has to look at everything.  Everything.  Every single bird, hamster, rat, mouse, cat, dog, fish, dog toy, cat toy, spider, lizard and snake.  This time he spent a really long time in the fish section.  After a while I asked him if he would want a fish in his room.  He looked at me like I was the dumbest person in the world and said, " need to be in water."  Yes, I know, I meant would you like a tank full of water with a fish in it to take up residence in your room?  Better?  Yes?  Yes.  Ok, let's run it past Dad and then we can come back tomorrow.

Travis was fine with it, so after gymnastics, we headed over to the pet store.  We meandered around for a bit and then headed to the fish section.  It took a whole lot of saying no to convince him we weren't getting a tank full of feeder fish, but I finally steered him to the Betas.  I was having a hard time deciding on a tank, so instead of breaking out in a sweat, I asked the sales associate that was nearby.  And he was oh so nice to show us this Beta tank they got in recently that has this super cool divider so you can get not only one, but TWO Betas and they are separated so they won't kill each other.  How nice of him to show us the only tank that could hold two Betas!  I asked Alex if he wanted one or two fish.  His answer?  Three.  Thanks fish store dude...there is no way I'm getting out of this with one fish.  So we buy the tank with the divider, pick out gravel and plants and head over to pick out our fish.  While we were waiting for the guy to put the fish in travel appropriate bags, I asked Alex what he wanted to name the fish.  Without missing a beat and with a very definite tone, he replied, "Uno and Dos."  I so want to crawl in his head and watch his brain work.

We got home and he helped me set up the tank.  We let the water sit for a bit and then floated the bags so the water was all the same temp and then into the tank with Uno and Dos.  We watched them for a bit and Alex dropped in some food along with encouraging words to get them to eat.  I'm sure we would have watched until every morsel of food was consumed, but we had to get going.  Going for an overnight stay to be exact.  I wasn't concerned about the fish.  They were fed and would be good to go until we got back the next evening.

My lack of concern would have been fine except for one little detail.  That cool divider thingy?  Yeah.  It apparently doesn't sit flush against the front of the tank.  It's only about a 1/4" away, but you wanna guess how wide a Beta is?  Juuuuuust a hair under a 1/4".

Alex was asleep when we got home, so I put him in bed and checked on the fish.  Dos was not lookin' good.  Like not lookin' good to the point I had to poke him to make sure he was alive.  He swam around, so I turned my attention to the filter to make it was working properly.  And while I was doing that, I noticed Uno was all of a sudden on the same side as Dos.  Suddenly, Dos's disheveled appearance made much more sense.  Uno took a couple pot shots at Dos and then wiggled back over on his side with his pristine fins, all like, "What?  Who?  Me?  Dos?  Oh, no, I didn't do that.  I don't know who did that...I was just swimming around on my half of the tank."

I will be absolutely shocked if Dos is alive when we get home.

So now I have to come up with a reason why this fish has died.  I could tell the truth, that these fish fight and one fish ends up dying.  But I can just imagine the wonderful things that would come out of this kid's brain the very next time he is fighting with one of his friends.  In the interest of not scarring other people's children, I think I am just going to give the ol' "Fish just die sometimes." and see how that flies.

This is gonna suck.

Soundin' Real Smartlike

Pretty sure the oral surgeon's assistant I talked to today is super impressed with the dental knowledge I kicked down to her earballs.

Her:  Hi Jackie!  I'm returning your call about some post-op questions.  What can I help you with?
Me:  Well, the stitches fell out or dissolved or whatever yesterday so I finally manned up and looked in there.  So the top one's fine...but the bottom one, there's kinda like a cave back there right now and there are two funky lookin' things in there and I have no idea if they're supposed to be in there or what.  Oh!  And on Friday some sort of weird squishy pouch thing showed up in my clue what THAT was or if it came from the top or bottom.

After a bit of a pause, she assured me that all of that was normal and the squishy pouch thing and the stuff I'm seeing in my mouth cave is this antibacterial foam/gel they stuff in there and it will dissolve on it's own.  Good good.

Who the hell talked me into this grossness again?

Friday, March 22, 2013


We're still trying to get some different bed time habits worked into the nightly routing.  I am really trying to not let myself lay down and snuggle with Alex until he falls asleep.  But he's so so so's really hard.  We're also slowly working on the earlier bedtime.

There are a couple reasons I need to not be laying with him until he falls asleep.  First, I don't think it's exactly conducive to a healthy marriage to have one of the partners sleeping half the night in the child's bed.  Second, and more important to my immediate sanity, when I'm laying with him when he falls asleep, he is very unhappy if I'm not there if/when he happens to wake up during the night.  So instead of just going to back sleep, he beckons me until I come downstairs.  And this has been happening almost every night.  Well, every night except the nights Travis puts him to bed.  Which is most likely because Travis doesn't fall asleep in there most times.  He has a way to get out of there without Alex throwing a fit.  He tells him he will stay in there laying with him, but he's going to start snoring when he falls asleep.  Usually the threat of having to listen to his dad chainsaw some giant Redwoods is enough to make Alex ok with going to sleep by himself.

Yes, I realize I could most likely solve the snuggling/waking up problem by having Travis put him to  bed every night.  But bed time is one of my favorite times with Alex...and did I mention how snuggly he is?!  So yeah, this is absolutely my problem, not Alex's.  Whatever.  I'm working on it.

A couple nights ago, after I had laid with him but left before he fell asleep, he woke up yelling for me at 12:30am.  I heard the first "Moooom?" but it was not too loud and I thought if I held really still and didn't move to get out of bed he would magically fall back asleep.  No dice.  "Moom!  MOM!  MOM!"  I got down there and asked what was up.  He propped himself up on his little elbows and lays this one on me:

"So.  Mom.  ~mouth smack, mouth smack~  Sometimes...when the dog irritates me.  I just wanted to tell you that.  Will you give me some pets?"

And there I sat.  Next to his bed, dumbfounded, rubbing his back.  This kid has got me right where he wants me.

Wednesday, March 20, 2013


I was so nervous going to pick up Alex yesterday, I actually called my sister-in-law for a pep talk.  Alex is always an angel for her, so she's totally biased, but she also taught 4 year olds for 14  years, so she's got some knowledge to kick down.  We talked through some stuff and I headed in to the liar of the beast.

They were still outside playing, so I went into his room to grab his shoes and blankets.  And that's when I saw his name on the green light.  Immediately I said outloud, "Huh.  Did they forget to move his name today?"  And then I went outside to find Alex standing very close to the time-out chair and one of his friends was crying.  Very judgingly, I asked Alex why she was crying.  He quickly told me he didn't do it...she fell down, but he didn't do it.  Good good.  And then he smiled like the Cheshire cat and told me he had a rockstar day.  I looked to his teacher for confirmation and she was beaming too.

He apparently had one of his best days yet.  No sassing, no fits, no hitting, no snowball attacks.  She very happily reported that he was a great helper all day...and then she quickly asked if it was ok that she has resorted to bribery.  Ummm....yeah...I've been using bribery since this kid was a baby.  I like to call it positive reinforcement.  It sounds better.  And yes, I don't care if you have to mainline unicorn farts and rainbow candy into this kid.  If it makes his behavior better, have at it.

Tuesday, March 19, 2013


The 1000th post on this blog was about poop.  Sounds about right.

¡Muy bien!

Alex has learned how to count to 10 in Spanish.  Last night we were counting the fish on his ceiling from his nightlight projector thingy and he said, " let's count them in Spanish."  I wish I had recorded it.  A 3&1/2 year old English speaking American little boy counting in Spanish is so freaking cute and funny.  We got to ten, but there were more fish to be counted, so he asked me what was next.  We carried on counting with me telling him what the number was in Spanish and him repeating.  I thought 1 through 10 were cute.  They were nothin' compared to 11 through 16.  "Catorce" was a tough one, but syllable by syllable, he got it...kinda.


After we spent a lot of time thinking and talking about his horrible no good rotten day at day care, Alex and I were slowly but surely becoming happy again.  As I was trying to find an affordable flight to California, I realized he was no longer sitting next to me.  I found him in the bathroom with the door shut.  Upon opening the door I was told he had closed it because he "had to poop really bad."  Cool.  Let me know if you need me.  And since it seems he is unable to have a bowel movement without me sitting there on the edge of the tub, he immediately yelled that he needed me.

We sat in there for a good 20 minutes of straining and grunting and hurting with zero result. I told him I had an idea to maybe make things easier.  So we took off his clothes and socks and stood him on the toilet seat.  While I held on to him, he squatted down.  People say it's easier to give birth this way too, but that would require no epidural...yeah, ok, you have fun with that.

Anywho, it only took about 47 seconds in the assumed position before this child dropped the mother of all poo's.  And apparently his little body wasn't letting go of any pee until that big ol' ma'amajamma left the building because with the release of the poo, came the release of a whole lotta pee.  And since I was holding him up, all of it ended up on my sweater and jeans.  He burst out laughing and said, "Moooooom..hahahahaha....I totally just peed on your clothes."  Yes, yes you did.  And I'm so happy we can share this joyous occasion.

The humility that comes with raising children has no comparison.

Red! Light!

Yesterday marked the absolute worst day at day care yet.  I feel like I have probably said that before, but this one took the blue ribbon.  He spent the day talking back to his teachers, hitting his classmates, throwing snowballs at his classmates, and the icing on the crap cake day was the 40 minute scream fest he had, including throwing his mat and blankets, because he didn't want to take a nap.

I was so disappointed, embarrassed, angry and confused all at the same time I didn't have a clue how to respond to the report from his teacher.  So, I just thanked her for telling me and for not beating my child throughout the day, and told Alex to get his stuff.  We got in the car and he asked for his snack.  Request denied!  And when he asked why, I had no control over myself and started crying while telling him I couldn't even describe how upset and disappointed I was in his behavior.  So that's awesome.  I don't want him to think he's behavior doesn't effect me, but at the same time, I don't think me crying about it is a good thing either.

I really do not understand why he is acting this way at school.  I'm going to try getting him to go to bed earlier in hopes that he is not getting enough sleep and that is making him act like a bee stung donkey.  Tried the earlier bed time last night, which just resulted in him being in his room for an hour and a half before finally going to sleep at a later time that he normally would.  Yay!  But then today I went to the Google machine and looked over a few articles on changing bed times.  And I realized I did a silly thing.  Why I assumed he would suddenly just be cool with going to be 45 minutes earlier than normal I do not know.  But every article pointed out the bed time should be changed in 15 minute increments and only changed after the child falls asleep within 15-20 mins of lights out.  Who knew?!

Oh, and they are back to using the Red, Yellow and Green light system in his room at day care again.  Wanna guess where I found his name?

Monday, March 18, 2013


Alex and I had a rough weekend.  Not sure why, but he is testing every single boundary with me...more than usual.  By Sunday morning, I was beyond over dealing with it, so I did my own thing and let the boys do stuff without me.  And they had just a dandy day.  Which is great, but is also just kinda an extra shot to the gut.  Not only does my child make life difficult for me, he actively makes it easier on his dad.  Or maybe I make it harder on him and that's why he's better for Trav.  Either way, I end up feeling like a shitty mom.  Thanks kiddo.

Anywho, they were playing tug of war with one of Alex's blanket and having a grand ol' time.  All was going great until Alex's little foot snuck juuuuust under the edge of the chair Travis was sitting on just at the same time Travis was leaning forward.  Squish!  It had to hurt like hell.  Normally Alex is a pretty tough kid, but he faaaareaked out.  He just kept crying while violently shaking his hands like he really needed to rapid dry some kickin' nail polish.

I sat with him and put ice on his foot.  He was crying and yelling and I told him I was sorry and that it was an accident.  It seemed as though in that moment he was associating pain level with accident status because he just kept screaming that it WAS NOT AN ACCIDENT!  There was no amount of assurance in the world to convince that kid that is was an accident.  He was so certain in fact, that he kept repeating it in the car on the way to the grocery store.  I finally told him I had heard enough and that Daddy did not mean to hurt him.  And he responded by very quietly saying to no one in particular, "it wasn't an accident."  And with that Trav just cranked the radio up.

Then when we got home from the store, I asked if his foot felt better and tried to jokingly give him kisses while he was still buckled in his car seat.  He angrily deployed the nail polish drying move in defense and gouged my chin.  I let out a big ol' OW! to which he quickly responded, "I don't want any kisses."  Yeah.  I got that.  But you didn't have to get violent on my face.  And then as I was telling him he hurt me, he not so sincerely said he was sorry.  I called him out on his insincerity as soon as he said it; which was simultaneous to the realization my chin was bleeding.  And that's when he started crying.

If this is what a 3&1/2 year old boy is like, there is no way I could handle a teenage girl.

Friday, March 15, 2013


My mouth is pretty sore today and a bit more swollen than yesterday.  So, I swiped Alex's pig shaped boo boo buddy ice pack thingymajinger.  If you're looking for the classiest, most professional person you know, I'm right here:

Don't mind my GIANT hand...these pain pills are not exactly giving me energy or motivation to get perspective down correctly for photo shoots.

Thursday, March 14, 2013


I've found that as much as I like watching Disney, Pixar or whatever animated movies, and I do, I like watching Alex watch them way more.  It is so much fun watching his reactions and seeing what really tickles him.

Pretty sure the post tooth pulling drugs are pushing me along with this deep thought realization...but it's making me smile so I'm goin' with it.

Tuesday, March 12, 2013


Alex had a great week last week except for Thursday.  He had a rough day and then all hell broke loose when I tried to make him leave day care when he wanted to continue having the new girl read to him.  Speaking of her...she was trying to help me, I get that, but telling Alex that he should go with his mom because his mom has a surprise for him at home and that she knows this because his mom told her so...?  Yeah, you're just settin' me up for colossal failure there chickeepoo, so if you could just go ahead and pipe down, that would be appreciated.

Anyway, he screamed the whole way out, screamed and flailed while I wrestled him into his car seat, and screamed higher and louder when I shut his door.  I got in my seat and let this screaming go on for a little while.  When I had heard beyond enough, I turned around and told him this behavior was unacceptable.  And I asked him if he knew what unacceptable meant.  Alas, he did not, so we had a little lesson in the car before heading home.

We arrived home only to find I had forgotten to close a door to the spare room and the dog had gone ballistic during the day.  She shredded two blinds, pulled apart a baby gate, left every curtain disheveled upstairs and was just clearly all around spazzy.  I was trying my best to keep my cool, but my blood was boiling.  As I walked around the house assessing the damage, all I could hear was Alex:

Aiden.  This is SUNsesectable!  Mom, this is SUNsesectable, right?  I'm mad at the dog.  Are you mad at the dog, Mom?  I'm mad at the dog.  This is SUNsesectable.

And with that, I gave up and stood in front of the kitchen sink and ate cookie dough.


Soaked and wet  [sohk'd and wet] adjective
1.  Two consecutive yet redundant words used to describe the saturation level of a material.
2.  Toddler's understanding and interpretation of the phrase "soaking wet": My diaper is soaked and wet.

Monday, March 11, 2013

Are you worthy?

Alex has started telling people that annoy him that they can't come to his birthday party.  Nice, right?  First things first, his birthday isn't until the end of June.  Second, the only reason he is thinking about his birthday at all is because we were at Costco and he saw this dune buggy lookin' thing that he could drive around and he started begging for it.  And to get him to stop begging, I told him maybe he could have it for his birthday.  Which was translated into toddlerese as, "It's your birthday starting now and I am totally buying that for you."  

So, every time somebody does anything he isn't cool with him, he tells them, "you're not coming to my birfday party."  Niiiiice.  I have told him he needs to stop saying that.  That he and I will decide who is coming to his birthday party when the time comes.  That it hurts his friends' feelings when he says that to them.

This morning one of the little girls ran up to show him her new bouncy ball.  After he immediately one upped her by informing her he has three bouncy balls, they ran off to test out the bounciness of her new one.  Within 30 seconds I hear her asking him if she can come to his birthday party.  So, I called him over and reminded him that he isn't supposed to be awarding and stripping his friends of party invitations.  He said ok and I followed up by telling him not again to say that to people.  And I got a big ol' "Iiiiiiii pahwomise." and off he went.

Thursday, March 7, 2013

Where is the f'ing bear?

Day care teachers are wonderful people.  Patient, kind, loving.  But they are also sneaky.  Giving the kids a cd to take home of all the fun songs they sing at school?  Well played teachers...well played.  But if you think I am not cursing your name every time we have to eat our way through the candy factory while we're goin' on a bear hunt, you are sorely mistaken.

Wednesday, March 6, 2013


Today I learned my desire for gum and not having any gum in my possession have an extreme converse relationship.  The more I think about it, the more I want it.  Kinda like the Ghostbusters and the Stay Puffed Marshmallow Man.  According to my sources ~cough cough L. Feeley cough~ and Wikipedia, this is called Ironic Processing.

But seriously.  Who's got some gum up in this place?


I find myself in disbelief of people's actions on almost a daily basis.  I'm assuming this is due, in part, to the fact that one facet of my job is customer service, but still.  People.  Really.

I don't think it's rocket surgery to leave a message when someone doesn't answer their phone.  Especially when you are calling over a time frame customarily known as lunch hour.  Dialing someone's number, letting it go to voicemail, not leaving a message, and then immediately redialing that person's number, and going through this cycle multiple times in quick succession only to not leave a message is NOT ACCEPTABLE.  Invariably, 99% of the time, these are the same people that when I do answer, give me the "I've been trying to get a hold of someone forever."  Nooo, you have been busy being an idiot.  If you had left a message like a normal person, I would have kindly and quickly called you know, after I no longer had food in mouth.

The other thing I don't understand is that most of time when I call someone for work related stuff, the whole time it's ringing I'm chanting pleasegotovoicemailpleasegotovoicemailpleasegotovoicemail under my breath.  And when I do get their voicemail, I instantly become Freddy Mercury.

Tuesday, March 5, 2013


I don't want to say it too loudly since I know if he hears me, he will have to prove me wrong, but...

Alex had a great day on Friday and a 75% good day yesterday!!  And this morning when I dropped him off, I told him to be a good boy and have a good day, and he said, "Ok Mom...because it makes you happy when I have a good day!?!"  Yes.  Well that and it's just kind of a good idea to not be a jerk to your friends.


I got my haircut on Friday and the chick that cuts my hair has been doing so for about 10 years.  I pretty much just let her do whatever she wants.  On Friday, she asked me what I wanted for color.  I said I didn't care; whatever she wanted.  From her little color mixing chemistry room, she shouted, "Julius!  I'm gonna make you a rock star!"  We giggled and went back to chatting while she was putting enough foil on my head to allow FM frequencies.

At one point, I noticed there was this black-ish looking color stuff she was putting in there, but I didn't bother to ask.  When we were on our way to washing my hair, she stopped and said, "Oh..hey..yeah...I put turquoise tips in..?"

Now, I realize normally someone would be upset by their hair stylist putting a funky color in without asking.  But she is the one that put purple in my hair when I asked, so I'm thinkin' she knew she was safe.

This morning Alex stopped dead in his tracks and said, "Mom...there's blue in your hair."  I told him I knew and asked if he liked it.  "Nope.  I like your hair just plain."  Ummm....thanks?

Not right

I'm pretty sure my kid is defective.  I let him have a bite of chocolate chip cookie dough last night.  He made a face, spit it out, and declared he only likes them cooked.

I am still dumbfounded.