Friday, April 26, 2013
¡Equinsu Ocha!
Alex's hair is getting kinda long, but he really doesn't want a haircut, and I don't have the energy in my Battle Tank to choose this one. So he pretty much looks like a puffy white dandelion. Aside from the over the ears growth and the not so far off mullet, I could care less how long his hair is. And on the plus side, I get to mess with it in the bath...and kind of mother would I be if I didn't let his true devil horns shine?
Thursday, April 25, 2013
Lovin it
Alex and I got to hang out with Trevor and Kari last night. He was so excited when I told him we were going to see Trevor, he had to physically express his happiness while shouting jibberish...good thing he was buckled in. After that little outburst he told me, "I love Trevor. Because Trevor's the best." Gotta admit, he's not real far off in his assessment; Trevor is a pretty cool kid.
The four of us walked to the park and the boys played until Kari and I were frozen. On the walk home, it was decided a journey to Noodles & Co was in order for dinner. After some intense hand washing and Hi-Ho Cherry-O playing, we jumped in the truck and headed to our feast.
On the way there, out of nowhere, Alex told Trevor he loved him. Just a straight up, "Hey Trevor, I love you." And it was just so innocent and sweet. It's so awesome that he's still little enough that he hasn't been jaded by, well, life. In his world, when you love someone or something, you say it. Because it feels good to say it and it feels good to hear it.
Trevor, on the other hand, has 8 years of wisdom under his belt, so Alex's proclamation of love was a bit surprising. Trevor took it in stride for the most part, and I assured him that this announcement was not much different from Alex's love for spaghetti that he had shouted from the rooftops earlier. The kid just likes to express his preferences for things. Usually in a loud, attention-getting manner.
But it did give me a little bit of the sads that people get so guarded so early in life. People have such a hard time being vulnerable that we hide a lot of really good feelings sometimes. Maybe not hide them, but we don't express them to their fullest extent. We quickly lose the excitement of something or someone making us genuinely happy. And far too often we just plain ol' don't tell people we love them or think they're cool or that they make us happy. There's a lot of bullshit in life, and I think we need to hang on to the happy stuff a little tighter.
Are you drowning in the warm fuzzies yet? I am a little and I LOVE YOU ALL!
The four of us walked to the park and the boys played until Kari and I were frozen. On the walk home, it was decided a journey to Noodles & Co was in order for dinner. After some intense hand washing and Hi-Ho Cherry-O playing, we jumped in the truck and headed to our feast.
On the way there, out of nowhere, Alex told Trevor he loved him. Just a straight up, "Hey Trevor, I love you." And it was just so innocent and sweet. It's so awesome that he's still little enough that he hasn't been jaded by, well, life. In his world, when you love someone or something, you say it. Because it feels good to say it and it feels good to hear it.
Trevor, on the other hand, has 8 years of wisdom under his belt, so Alex's proclamation of love was a bit surprising. Trevor took it in stride for the most part, and I assured him that this announcement was not much different from Alex's love for spaghetti that he had shouted from the rooftops earlier. The kid just likes to express his preferences for things. Usually in a loud, attention-getting manner.
But it did give me a little bit of the sads that people get so guarded so early in life. People have such a hard time being vulnerable that we hide a lot of really good feelings sometimes. Maybe not hide them, but we don't express them to their fullest extent. We quickly lose the excitement of something or someone making us genuinely happy. And far too often we just plain ol' don't tell people we love them or think they're cool or that they make us happy. There's a lot of bullshit in life, and I think we need to hang on to the happy stuff a little tighter.
Are you drowning in the warm fuzzies yet? I am a little and I LOVE YOU ALL!
Who?!?!
Who the hell taught my kid pig Latin? Anyone gonna fess up? No one? Fine. But just know this, I will find you and I will slap you silly with the red light his name was on yesterday when I picked him up. I will find you.
Wednesday, April 24, 2013
10-4 good buddy!
I don't want to jinx it, but I feel an update on Daycare Crisis - April 2013 is in order.
I have not been called to come get him. The green light:red light ratio has improved tremendously. The RockStar status is slowly being reinstated. His delight in making me happy with his behavior is once again shining through.
I'm puttin' it in code just to be safe on the jinxing front...Ehay isay eingbay eallyray oodgay osay arfay isthay eekway.
I have not been called to come get him. The green light:red light ratio has improved tremendously. The RockStar status is slowly being reinstated. His delight in making me happy with his behavior is once again shining through.
I'm puttin' it in code just to be safe on the jinxing front...Ehay isay eingbay eallyray oodgay osay arfay isthay eekway.
Carbmonger
I cannot wrap my head around how people can successfully live on a diet without carbs. More specifically a diet without bread. I brought a chicken salad for lunch today. And it is loaded...chicken, carrots, peas, cucumbers, radishes, lettuce. Basically a kick-ass salad. I will absolutely be full upon consumption of this bad boy. But I forgot the hunk of bread I was going to pack with the salad.
I'm only two bites in and I'm already sad. I will eat my salad and I will be full. But I won't be satisfied. Only a huge chunk of specific processed complex carbohydrates can satisfy this appetite.
I'm only two bites in and I'm already sad. I will eat my salad and I will be full. But I won't be satisfied. Only a huge chunk of specific processed complex carbohydrates can satisfy this appetite.
Tuesday, April 23, 2013
Religious Studies
I am not the most religious person in the world, to put it lightly. I don't think I have the right to have issues with anyone anywhere believing whatever they believe and I don't think anyone has the right to have any issues with what I chose to and not to believe. But, that is a whole deep conversation that frankly isn't all that great for amusement purposes, so let's just use it as necessary background for the following story to be amusing at all.
When Alex was baptized, my in-laws gave him a very nice children's Bible. It's colorfully illustrated and the writing isn't as difficult to get through as a standard Bible. In one of their "let's put all of your books in your clothes hamper because what could be funnier" trashings of Alex's room, he and Hazel came across this Bible. I didn't withhold it from him or anything, but some of the lessons are a little hard for a toddler to understand. Not to mention, the stories in the Bible can get a teensy bit heavy handed in the death and hate arena, so it hadn't been a go-to book for bedtime. Hazel spent a good amount of time looking through it that night while Alex sat on his bed reading about construction vehicles.
The next night, Travis was putting him to bed and Alex chose the Bible as the book he wanted to read. Since it wasn't something we had read together, I'm pretty sure he picked it because it's the biggest book on his shelf and he figured it would take that much longer before we turned his lights off. I'm on to you little man. Any way, they read a couple verses and off to sleep he went.
I was putting him down the next night, and again he chose the Bible. We sat down and started reading about Noah. Within a minute, Travis came bounding into Alex's room holding the fire extinguisher. With a look of relief he said, "Oh, you haven't burst into flames yet? Good good." Very funny. Alex asked what Daddy was doing with that. And I very honestly told him, "Daddy's being a sassy jerkstore."
When Alex was baptized, my in-laws gave him a very nice children's Bible. It's colorfully illustrated and the writing isn't as difficult to get through as a standard Bible. In one of their "let's put all of your books in your clothes hamper because what could be funnier" trashings of Alex's room, he and Hazel came across this Bible. I didn't withhold it from him or anything, but some of the lessons are a little hard for a toddler to understand. Not to mention, the stories in the Bible can get a teensy bit heavy handed in the death and hate arena, so it hadn't been a go-to book for bedtime. Hazel spent a good amount of time looking through it that night while Alex sat on his bed reading about construction vehicles.
The next night, Travis was putting him to bed and Alex chose the Bible as the book he wanted to read. Since it wasn't something we had read together, I'm pretty sure he picked it because it's the biggest book on his shelf and he figured it would take that much longer before we turned his lights off. I'm on to you little man. Any way, they read a couple verses and off to sleep he went.
I was putting him down the next night, and again he chose the Bible. We sat down and started reading about Noah. Within a minute, Travis came bounding into Alex's room holding the fire extinguisher. With a look of relief he said, "Oh, you haven't burst into flames yet? Good good." Very funny. Alex asked what Daddy was doing with that. And I very honestly told him, "Daddy's being a sassy jerkstore."
Monday, April 22, 2013
Cruel and Unusual
Friday was really bad. Just all around. I was having a weird emotional day and then I went to pick Alex up and I thought everything was turning around when he flashed his smile at me. But the way he told me he had a RockStar day let me know nothing was changing and this particular Friday was gonna keep on sucking. He feebly tried to sell his RockStar status, but gave up pretty quickly. I'm sure because he knew he was full of shit and quickly saw that I wasn't buying it. My suspicions were confirmed when I looked up at his teacher and saw her face. If there is an antonym for a RockStar, that's the kind of day he had. He had more of a Clumsy and Angry Glass Maker type of day. Everything smashed down around him, but it was his own damn fault.
This past week had been a slow slide away from RockStar. Monday started out with kind of a rough morning, but a great afternoon. And that pattern continued on, but with a little more roughness and a little less greatness. On Thursday, whilst noticeably robbed of all sanity, his teacher told me that he had a rough day, but he managed to turn it around and "slide home safely." I welcomed her to my daily life. And then I got there on Friday.
After asking him again how his day was and getting an honest answer, I went to talk to his teacher. Once again, my little darling decided it was a really good idea to throw a fit because he didn't want to nap. A fit that again included throwing his blankets and nap mat. But this time, to really drive his point home, he extended the fit another 5 minutes to a nice round 45 minute tantrum. I was already kinda mentally fragile and it was all I could do to not start crying right there next to the snack table and tiny little chairs. His teacher obviously saw this and she apologized for having to give me bad reports. Ummmm...huh? I mean, thank you very much for acknowledging that it completely sucks to stand here and be told my son is a total asshat all day, but I'm pretty sure I'm the one that should be apologizing. Seems my inability to raise a child that is more than two steps away from throwing his own poo might be causing you juuuust a squink of trouble during the day.
In the interest of keep myself together-ish, I interrupted whatever ridiculous plea Alex was working on to stay and play, and I told him to get his stuff. His teacher stopped him on the way out and told him they were going to start over on Monday. Yes, you can start over on Monday...if I decide to ever let him out of the house again.
I silently got him in the car and headed home. He didn't dare speak while we were in the car and I only broke the silence a couple times. I couldn't even stand to have the radio on I was so pissed. I'm quite sure he would have preferred the silence to the things I had to say when I did speak to him. My first blow up was when it hit me again that he straight up lied to me about his behavior and tested the waters to see if he could trick me. And then I retreated to silence. And that is the parenting technique I employed upon arriving home as well. I sent him to his room and just kept coming back in when I thought of something else I was upset about and needed to loudly tell him.
Finally I stopped that and I sat down in his room and told him my solution to this ridiuclousness. If he acts like that ever again, I am going to have his teachers call me and I am going to pull him out of school. (What I will do with him if this ever happens is yet to be determined, but he didn't need to know that.) After I finished, he looked at me with complete shock and pitifully said, "But, I LOVE school!!!" Yes, I know. That's kinda the point.
I thought his teacher was going to fall over from confusion and shock when I told her my plan. She just blankly looked at me for a minute while my proposal sunk in. Once she agreed that she would go along with this, she had a few questions I answered, and we were set. And then she thanked me for backing them up. And I, in turn, thanked her for not putting my kid out on the street corner.
This past week had been a slow slide away from RockStar. Monday started out with kind of a rough morning, but a great afternoon. And that pattern continued on, but with a little more roughness and a little less greatness. On Thursday, whilst noticeably robbed of all sanity, his teacher told me that he had a rough day, but he managed to turn it around and "slide home safely." I welcomed her to my daily life. And then I got there on Friday.
After asking him again how his day was and getting an honest answer, I went to talk to his teacher. Once again, my little darling decided it was a really good idea to throw a fit because he didn't want to nap. A fit that again included throwing his blankets and nap mat. But this time, to really drive his point home, he extended the fit another 5 minutes to a nice round 45 minute tantrum. I was already kinda mentally fragile and it was all I could do to not start crying right there next to the snack table and tiny little chairs. His teacher obviously saw this and she apologized for having to give me bad reports. Ummmm...huh? I mean, thank you very much for acknowledging that it completely sucks to stand here and be told my son is a total asshat all day, but I'm pretty sure I'm the one that should be apologizing. Seems my inability to raise a child that is more than two steps away from throwing his own poo might be causing you juuuust a squink of trouble during the day.
In the interest of keep myself together-ish, I interrupted whatever ridiculous plea Alex was working on to stay and play, and I told him to get his stuff. His teacher stopped him on the way out and told him they were going to start over on Monday. Yes, you can start over on Monday...if I decide to ever let him out of the house again.
I silently got him in the car and headed home. He didn't dare speak while we were in the car and I only broke the silence a couple times. I couldn't even stand to have the radio on I was so pissed. I'm quite sure he would have preferred the silence to the things I had to say when I did speak to him. My first blow up was when it hit me again that he straight up lied to me about his behavior and tested the waters to see if he could trick me. And then I retreated to silence. And that is the parenting technique I employed upon arriving home as well. I sent him to his room and just kept coming back in when I thought of something else I was upset about and needed to loudly tell him.
Finally I stopped that and I sat down in his room and told him my solution to this ridiuclousness. If he acts like that ever again, I am going to have his teachers call me and I am going to pull him out of school. (What I will do with him if this ever happens is yet to be determined, but he didn't need to know that.) After I finished, he looked at me with complete shock and pitifully said, "But, I LOVE school!!!" Yes, I know. That's kinda the point.
I thought his teacher was going to fall over from confusion and shock when I told her my plan. She just blankly looked at me for a minute while my proposal sunk in. Once she agreed that she would go along with this, she had a few questions I answered, and we were set. And then she thanked me for backing them up. And I, in turn, thanked her for not putting my kid out on the street corner.
Thursday, April 18, 2013
No! I won't do it!
Given the recent introduction of prunes and wrinkle cream to my daily life, I decide to revolt against growing up and older and being an adult. And once again, I used my hair as my means of revolt.
Chinese food vs. child care
Molly and Hazel came over last night to play. Alex and Hazel started off a little tattle-tale-y, but worked things out and were playing nicely. We ordered some Chinese food and sat down to eat. After the kids ate their locust way through 1-1/2 containers of rice, they went off to play in Alex's room. After a couple of minutes of blissful silence, my spidey senses perked up and I got up to check on them. They were sitting in his room, each reading a book. Nice! So I happily went back to inhaling my egg foo young.
About 4 bites in, Alex came out of his room with his sleeves rolled up and shaking water off of his hands. He answered my look of surprise by telling me that supposedly Hazel told him to take the plants out. And as I was loudly asking for clarification that he was in fact talking about the plants in Uno's tank, Hazel was coming out of his room protesting her alleged involvement in said plant removal. I was not pleased. And in my state of displeasure had zero capacity for listening to two toddlers playing the blame game for something I was absolutely certain they both had a hand in. So I kinda loudly (I had to make myself heard over the "no I didn't, she did!" and the "nah-UH! I didn't, HE did!") told them that I didn't care who did what and I didn't want to hear another word from either of them about it. And with that, Hazel started crying and Alex sat pouting on the couch. Molly got Hazel to stop crying, I cleaned up the mess, and everything calmed down. I told the kids they had to stay out of Alex's room and Molly and I tried to finish our dinner.
I got in another two bites before Alex started calling for me from the living room saying he needed me. I told him I was eating and that he would have to wait until I was done. Didn't matter. His requests would not relent. Finally, after the fifth time he said he needed me, I went in the living room and found him behind the couch in the tiny triangle of space the lamp sits in. He had slithered in there to retrieve a string of Mardi Gras beads/beeeeeauuuuutiful necklace he couldn't be without, but clearly didn't possess the upper body strength to get himself back out.
To recap, my son was telling me he needed me for a little over 3 minutes before I finally put down my fork and went to see what he needed, only to find him physically stuck behind the couch. So I did what any caring mother that had been ignoring her child would do...I took a picture before I pulled him out.
About 4 bites in, Alex came out of his room with his sleeves rolled up and shaking water off of his hands. He answered my look of surprise by telling me that supposedly Hazel told him to take the plants out. And as I was loudly asking for clarification that he was in fact talking about the plants in Uno's tank, Hazel was coming out of his room protesting her alleged involvement in said plant removal. I was not pleased. And in my state of displeasure had zero capacity for listening to two toddlers playing the blame game for something I was absolutely certain they both had a hand in. So I kinda loudly (I had to make myself heard over the "no I didn't, she did!" and the "nah-UH! I didn't, HE did!") told them that I didn't care who did what and I didn't want to hear another word from either of them about it. And with that, Hazel started crying and Alex sat pouting on the couch. Molly got Hazel to stop crying, I cleaned up the mess, and everything calmed down. I told the kids they had to stay out of Alex's room and Molly and I tried to finish our dinner.
I got in another two bites before Alex started calling for me from the living room saying he needed me. I told him I was eating and that he would have to wait until I was done. Didn't matter. His requests would not relent. Finally, after the fifth time he said he needed me, I went in the living room and found him behind the couch in the tiny triangle of space the lamp sits in. He had slithered in there to retrieve a string of Mardi Gras beads/beeeeeauuuuutiful necklace he couldn't be without, but clearly didn't possess the upper body strength to get himself back out.
To recap, my son was telling me he needed me for a little over 3 minutes before I finally put down my fork and went to see what he needed, only to find him physically stuck behind the couch. So I did what any caring mother that had been ignoring her child would do...I took a picture before I pulled him out.
Tuesday, April 16, 2013
Dress to Impress
When I reached in my closet and grabbed my grey button down shirt this morning, I said, "Hmmmph...I thought this shirt had a stain on it." I perused the shirt, found no offending marks, shrugged it off to poor memory and continued on with my morning. But, when I went to the bathroom at the office and saw what looks like the print left from a pizza slice slapping me in the stomach, I realized my memory is better than I gave it credit.
Why would I hang a shirt back in my closet that has an obvious stain you ask? Apparently I am now in the business of setting up booby traps for myself. Good call Julius.
Makin' friends
Last week, Alex was in the school age kids room a couple afternoons. He loved it. He loved it so much, it was a perfect bargaining/bribery tool for his teachers. Which works out well for everybody. Alex has fun, he doesn't drive his teacher to drink, and I get good reports at the end of the day. Winning all around.
But, my favorite thing from his little stint in that room happened on the second day. I went in to get him and one of the little boys who is 5 or 6 years old, came up to me and asked, "Jackie...can my mom have Alex's phone number?"
I challenge you to find a cuter way for a kid to ask if a friend can possibly come to his house to play some time.
But, my favorite thing from his little stint in that room happened on the second day. I went in to get him and one of the little boys who is 5 or 6 years old, came up to me and asked, "Jackie...can my mom have Alex's phone number?"
I challenge you to find a cuter way for a kid to ask if a friend can possibly come to his house to play some time.
I'll take it!
The odd times that Travis actually gets done with work in time to pick Alex up, they go to the gas station and get string cheese and juice. Every time. I wasn't aware of this little trip until Alex brought home some string cheese for me too, and in turn busted them and their little treat journeys.
Let's just paint the bullshit picture, shall we? I drop off and pick up almost every single day. I get to be the mean one that leaves him there when he doesn't want to stay. I get to be the one that forces him to leave his best friend dog at home every morning. I get to force him to leave almost every afternoon after he realizes that he actually does like it at daycare and doesn't want to leave. And the 1% of the time Travis swoops in and picks him up, he not only gets the awesome novelty of Daddy being at daycare, he also gets delicious treats. Add that to, Alex has been asking me to take him to the gas station close pretty much every day. So I get to say no to treats on a close to daily basis as well. So not fair.
Yesterday was a red light morning and a green light afternoon, and ended with me bargaining a trip to bank instead of the gas station. Due to the red light status yesterday, I felt it warranted to have a little talk on the way to daycare today about having a good morning. And after we went over the appropriate way to act, I asked him if he knew who was picking him up this afternoon. "Daddy! Daddydaddydaddy! Yay! And then we get to get string cheese and juice and chips!!" Great, now chips are in there as well? Way to up the ante, Daddy. Alex continued on with his celebration, "Daddy and I get to go to the gas station and that's why Daddy's the best daddy. Daddy's the best daddy...and you are the BEST mommy, Mommy."
Between the sun finally shining and the knowledge that my kid thinks I'm the best mommy without string cheese and juice and chips, I'm havin' me a darn good Tuesday!
Let's just paint the bullshit picture, shall we? I drop off and pick up almost every single day. I get to be the mean one that leaves him there when he doesn't want to stay. I get to be the one that forces him to leave his best friend dog at home every morning. I get to force him to leave almost every afternoon after he realizes that he actually does like it at daycare and doesn't want to leave. And the 1% of the time Travis swoops in and picks him up, he not only gets the awesome novelty of Daddy being at daycare, he also gets delicious treats. Add that to, Alex has been asking me to take him to the gas station close pretty much every day. So I get to say no to treats on a close to daily basis as well. So not fair.
Yesterday was a red light morning and a green light afternoon, and ended with me bargaining a trip to bank instead of the gas station. Due to the red light status yesterday, I felt it warranted to have a little talk on the way to daycare today about having a good morning. And after we went over the appropriate way to act, I asked him if he knew who was picking him up this afternoon. "Daddy! Daddydaddydaddy! Yay! And then we get to get string cheese and juice and chips!!" Great, now chips are in there as well? Way to up the ante, Daddy. Alex continued on with his celebration, "Daddy and I get to go to the gas station and that's why Daddy's the best daddy. Daddy's the best daddy...and you are the BEST mommy, Mommy."
Between the sun finally shining and the knowledge that my kid thinks I'm the best mommy without string cheese and juice and chips, I'm havin' me a darn good Tuesday!
Monday, April 15, 2013
Master of Pets
I thought there wasn't a chance Alex wasn't going to fall asleep on the way home from my sister's house last night. Per usual, I thought wrong. And to add insult to injury, he kept tricking me. He'd be quiet for long periods of time and then out of nowhere he'd pipe up with something. For the most part it was something about catching up to someone in front of us or slowing down so he could get another look at the big rig we just passed.
About 15 minutes from home, I swore he had fallen asleep...for sure this time. Wrong. Again. His head popped up and he let me know the following:
"Mom. So. I want to have 2 pets, a T-Rex and a puppy. Wait. No. 4 pets. Two T-Rex's and two dogs. And the T-Rex's will stomp on things I don't like. But they will have to stay outside because they are really big. The dogs will be able to ride in the car with me, but not the T-Rex's; they're too big. So we will have to walk with them or get a really big truck with a big trailer."
We're gonna need a bigger pet food budget.
About 15 minutes from home, I swore he had fallen asleep...for sure this time. Wrong. Again. His head popped up and he let me know the following:
"Mom. So. I want to have 2 pets, a T-Rex and a puppy. Wait. No. 4 pets. Two T-Rex's and two dogs. And the T-Rex's will stomp on things I don't like. But they will have to stay outside because they are really big. The dogs will be able to ride in the car with me, but not the T-Rex's; they're too big. So we will have to walk with them or get a really big truck with a big trailer."
We're gonna need a bigger pet food budget.
Thursday, April 11, 2013
Wait! Stop! Not so fast!
Travis put new thresholds between the kitchen and the living room and the kitchen and Alex's room. The one to the living room took a hit on Tuesday night. I have no idea how it happened, but Alex told me he accidentally broke it and when I looked down it was pulled up on one side and bent. I thanked him for telling me and he responded with, "Silly me. Accidents happen!" and trotted off to torture-hug the dog some more.
The little plastic thingers that hold the metal piece down broke and of course couldn't be pulled back up, so Travis had to drill them out. Alex wanted to help. Which resulted in one of Trav's drill bits going right through one of the already drilled holes and directly into the basement. No biggie, just an added adventure to a relatively dull task.
As Alex was laying on his belly on the kitchen floor, he looked at the 70's era linoleum we have and declared that the design looks just like a flower. We all agreed. And then the fact that Alex is a full-on little boy that is learning things bigger than his ABC's at daycare ran over us like a freight train. As if it was something he had always known, Alex told us that flowers have nectar and that bees and butterflies like nectar.
Ummm....what. How do you know that? When have you ever heard of nectar? Why are you so old!?!
The little plastic thingers that hold the metal piece down broke and of course couldn't be pulled back up, so Travis had to drill them out. Alex wanted to help. Which resulted in one of Trav's drill bits going right through one of the already drilled holes and directly into the basement. No biggie, just an added adventure to a relatively dull task.
As Alex was laying on his belly on the kitchen floor, he looked at the 70's era linoleum we have and declared that the design looks just like a flower. We all agreed. And then the fact that Alex is a full-on little boy that is learning things bigger than his ABC's at daycare ran over us like a freight train. As if it was something he had always known, Alex told us that flowers have nectar and that bees and butterflies like nectar.
Ummm....what. How do you know that? When have you ever heard of nectar? Why are you so old!?!
Wednesday, April 10, 2013
Ick. Nast. Gross.
In the ongoing saga of my mouth, I have an issue. The giant cave of extraction. It's slowly closing up like it's supposed to. But here's the problem: It is currently big enough to trap food, but small enough that said trapped food is next to impossible for me to swish out. When the cave was a bit less closed, a quick swish around of water and Presto! the offending food particle was gone. Not so much anymore.
Last night, we had pasta and some bread for dinner. I had an excruciating day of sitting at my desk and desperately needed to replenish my complex carbohydrates, what of it? Anywho, about halfway through dinner, I felt something get stuck in the cave. Quick swish with water. Nothing. Quick swish with wine because, well, wine. Still no progress. I fought with this for quite some time with zero results other than a whole lotta frustration.
I finally looked at Trav and told him he was going to have to use a tweezers and get whatever the hell was stuck in there, out. He stared at me all dumbfounded and quietly requested he finish his dinner before making his attempt. Well, duh. While he finished his dinner, I grabbed the tweezers. He fished around in there and finally got the food removed, accompanied by, "You're gonna wanna rinse like now. I don't know what that was, but it wasn't pasta...and it's on your lip." So gross.
Now here's a bigger problem. What am I gonna do every time I eat and Travis is not around? I kind feel like the tweezer routine is only something you can ask/make your spouse do. I mean there are some things you have to do once you're married. If I get some sort of weird growth on my butt, he's gonna be the go to guy there too. Marriage.
Last night, we had pasta and some bread for dinner. I had an excruciating day of sitting at my desk and desperately needed to replenish my complex carbohydrates, what of it? Anywho, about halfway through dinner, I felt something get stuck in the cave. Quick swish with water. Nothing. Quick swish with wine because, well, wine. Still no progress. I fought with this for quite some time with zero results other than a whole lotta frustration.
I finally looked at Trav and told him he was going to have to use a tweezers and get whatever the hell was stuck in there, out. He stared at me all dumbfounded and quietly requested he finish his dinner before making his attempt. Well, duh. While he finished his dinner, I grabbed the tweezers. He fished around in there and finally got the food removed, accompanied by, "You're gonna wanna rinse like now. I don't know what that was, but it wasn't pasta...and it's on your lip." So gross.
Now here's a bigger problem. What am I gonna do every time I eat and Travis is not around? I kind feel like the tweezer routine is only something you can ask/make your spouse do. I mean there are some things you have to do once you're married. If I get some sort of weird growth on my butt, he's gonna be the go to guy there too. Marriage.
Tuesday, April 9, 2013
Badge of Honor
After the horror of having giant teeth yanked from head and/or sawed in half while still planted in my gums, I had to be on antibiotics for about 10 days to fight off any infection. I have taken antibiotics before, but never have they had quite the effect on my ~ahem~ digestive system as they did this time. Let's suffice it to say I was elated a plunger has permanent residence in my office bathroom. The pipes were cleee-ean.
But then I finished taking the antibiotics, and the poop party stopped. Stopped real bad like. So for the first time in my life, prunes have entered my diet as a daily necessity. Nothin' like prunes to make you feel all young and spry. On a related note, I have also finally started using proper face moisturizer (read: wrinkle fighter).
Aren't milestones like this supposed to earn you some sort of badge on your Life Sash? If a Girl Scout gets a badge for making a crappy campfire, I think I should get one for the prunes and wrinkle cream. It won't make me any younger, but it'll be a nice addition to my flare.
But then I finished taking the antibiotics, and the poop party stopped. Stopped real bad like. So for the first time in my life, prunes have entered my diet as a daily necessity. Nothin' like prunes to make you feel all young and spry. On a related note, I have also finally started using proper face moisturizer (read: wrinkle fighter).
Aren't milestones like this supposed to earn you some sort of badge on your Life Sash? If a Girl Scout gets a badge for making a crappy campfire, I think I should get one for the prunes and wrinkle cream. It won't make me any younger, but it'll be a nice addition to my flare.
Sunday! Sunday! Sunday!
We had our first cookout of the year on Sunday. One of Travis's accounts has really good tenderloin at a ridiculously low price, so he grabbed one. Only thing is, you have to buy a whole tenderloin to get the ridiculously low price. We brilliantly threw it in the freezer since we weren't going to eat it right away...before cutting into smaller steaks. And since we are kinda food snobs, we weren't about to thaw it only to cut it up and freeze it again. So everyone got to reap the benefits of our lack of forethought!
We started the afternoon with 8 adults and 4 kids, with all the kids being 3 years old or younger. The amount of bubble blowing, fort playing, slide and swing riding, and pretend lawn mowing was nothing short of impressive. The kids did great playing together. Alex had one incident that required a time out...apparently Travis frowns upon his son throwing bubble juice at his friends. Details. After he was allowed to come back outside, he took some time playing by himself. It was very interesting to me to watch him get himself mentally ready to join the group again. I was very proud of him. Not that I think he made a conscious decision to have some alone time, but he did it nonetheless, and then successfully played with his friends again.
About half way through the afternoon, Travis came in and commented that our cookouts "sure have changed." And right he was. Everyone left by 7:30. Everyone was sober. And clean-up consisted of putting away toys that had been strewn about...not bottles and cans. The cookout was a distant cousin of the cookouts of yore, but not a shred less satisfying. We had great food and great company. Our lives are all changing quite a bit, but making these changes along side the amazing people I get to call friends is making everything a lot easier for this little fear of change monster.
We started the afternoon with 8 adults and 4 kids, with all the kids being 3 years old or younger. The amount of bubble blowing, fort playing, slide and swing riding, and pretend lawn mowing was nothing short of impressive. The kids did great playing together. Alex had one incident that required a time out...apparently Travis frowns upon his son throwing bubble juice at his friends. Details. After he was allowed to come back outside, he took some time playing by himself. It was very interesting to me to watch him get himself mentally ready to join the group again. I was very proud of him. Not that I think he made a conscious decision to have some alone time, but he did it nonetheless, and then successfully played with his friends again.
About half way through the afternoon, Travis came in and commented that our cookouts "sure have changed." And right he was. Everyone left by 7:30. Everyone was sober. And clean-up consisted of putting away toys that had been strewn about...not bottles and cans. The cookout was a distant cousin of the cookouts of yore, but not a shred less satisfying. We had great food and great company. Our lives are all changing quite a bit, but making these changes along side the amazing people I get to call friends is making everything a lot easier for this little fear of change monster.
Sunshine Daydreams
It's the sun! It's the sun! It's the beautiful sun! Seriously though, the sun was out and it was warm this weekend. Warm enough to play outside without getting a Rudolph nose complete with a river of snot running down your upper lip. In other words: Glorious!!
Alex has definitely inherited my love of sunshine. He tells me at least twice a day that he loves the sun..."I'm so happy it's not rainy Mom, because I love the sun. Do you love the sun Mom? I love the sun." And he tells me this while tears are streaming down his face from his pale blue eyes that are watering from said bright sunshine that he loves.
On Saturday, it was overcast but warm so he hopped on his bike and I strapped on my Chasing Alex While Keeping Control of the Dog sneakers and we headed out onto the sidewalks. At every corner, I would ask him which way he wanted to go and every single time his response was the same, "That way is back home, right? (me: yes.) Then I'm thinkin' we should go this way, not that way. Not back home." And this went on for 1.6 miles. 1.6 miles of him riding as fast as he could to the corner, skidding to a stop, giggling while waiting for Aiden and me to catch up, and then taking off again once we crossed the street. About a mile into our adventure, it started to rain. And when I tried to truncate the trip because I wasn't feelin' like walking around in the rain, the child that professes his love for the sun at obnoxiously repetitive intervals informed me that he didn't mind that it was raining because he loves the rain. Of course you do.
Alex has definitely inherited my love of sunshine. He tells me at least twice a day that he loves the sun..."I'm so happy it's not rainy Mom, because I love the sun. Do you love the sun Mom? I love the sun." And he tells me this while tears are streaming down his face from his pale blue eyes that are watering from said bright sunshine that he loves.
On Saturday, it was overcast but warm so he hopped on his bike and I strapped on my Chasing Alex While Keeping Control of the Dog sneakers and we headed out onto the sidewalks. At every corner, I would ask him which way he wanted to go and every single time his response was the same, "That way is back home, right? (me: yes.) Then I'm thinkin' we should go this way, not that way. Not back home." And this went on for 1.6 miles. 1.6 miles of him riding as fast as he could to the corner, skidding to a stop, giggling while waiting for Aiden and me to catch up, and then taking off again once we crossed the street. About a mile into our adventure, it started to rain. And when I tried to truncate the trip because I wasn't feelin' like walking around in the rain, the child that professes his love for the sun at obnoxiously repetitive intervals informed me that he didn't mind that it was raining because he loves the rain. Of course you do.
Makin good life choices
The longer days have made it so much easier for me to start running again. It's been quite a while. Between it getting dark at 3 in the afternoon and the longest recovery ever from smashing into a tree whilst sledding, I had a way too long of a hiatus from my beloved Saucony's. It had been so long in fact, I was starting to think I wasn't really all that into running anymore. I wasn't looking forward to it and I was having to force myself to go.
I have finally been getting in some consistent workouts; a change from the sporadic schedule I had been keeping. The first three times out were ok, but nothing to be excited about. It felt good to be outside and get the ol' ticker pumping, but my leg was really sore and I was running slower than molasses in January. But then Saturday's run happened. 9 minute miles for 3.92 miles. Awwww yeeeeah.
And with that one run, I'm hooked again. The seemingly instant performance improvement that comes with starting up running again is more addictive than crack. And the endorphine high doesn't give you those nasty sores and stuff like crack does, so, you know...better.
I have finally been getting in some consistent workouts; a change from the sporadic schedule I had been keeping. The first three times out were ok, but nothing to be excited about. It felt good to be outside and get the ol' ticker pumping, but my leg was really sore and I was running slower than molasses in January. But then Saturday's run happened. 9 minute miles for 3.92 miles. Awwww yeeeeah.
And with that one run, I'm hooked again. The seemingly instant performance improvement that comes with starting up running again is more addictive than crack. And the endorphine high doesn't give you those nasty sores and stuff like crack does, so, you know...better.
Thursday, April 4, 2013
Oh yeah...he's gifted
After watching Aiden and her playmate from next door tear up the mud pit we are currently calling a backyard, Alex and I headed inside to find something to eat. Travis was already in the kitchen making some stuffed bread thing to take to his end of the season shuffleboard potluck. I know you're jealous, but back the hell off, he's my super cool shuffleboarding husband. Find your own.
Anywho, he apparently needed to coat the pan he was using with non-stick spray, but hadn't gotten around to putting it away (weird!), so it was sitting on the kitchen table. My brilliant child climbed up in his chair and pushed the spray button on the can. And with that, he immediately got an eye full of Pam because why would he think to aim it away from his face?!? Yes, I know he's only 3, but this kid has a bit of an obsession with anything spray bottle, so he has been taught time and time again to not point it at his face. Pretty sure the lesson will stick this time...or maybe not with all the non-stick spray. (Sorry. I couldn't help it.)
I was right there when it happened, and after my initial HOLY SHIT HE JUST PAMMED HIS EYE, I was able to start joking with him to avoid the HOLY SHIT I JUST PAMMED MY EYE freak out I could see hiding just below the surface. Surprisingly, his eye wasn't all that bothered by the incident. And he had beautiful shining skin you could cook a perfect over-easy egg on. Win win.
Anywho, he apparently needed to coat the pan he was using with non-stick spray, but hadn't gotten around to putting it away (weird!), so it was sitting on the kitchen table. My brilliant child climbed up in his chair and pushed the spray button on the can. And with that, he immediately got an eye full of Pam because why would he think to aim it away from his face?!? Yes, I know he's only 3, but this kid has a bit of an obsession with anything spray bottle, so he has been taught time and time again to not point it at his face. Pretty sure the lesson will stick this time...or maybe not with all the non-stick spray. (Sorry. I couldn't help it.)
I was right there when it happened, and after my initial HOLY SHIT HE JUST PAMMED HIS EYE, I was able to start joking with him to avoid the HOLY SHIT I JUST PAMMED MY EYE freak out I could see hiding just below the surface. Surprisingly, his eye wasn't all that bothered by the incident. And he had beautiful shining skin you could cook a perfect over-easy egg on. Win win.
Shoulda named him Grace
Alex is so excited that it is finally getting warmer outside. There's still a little nip in the air, but he stays outside as long as he can possibly stand it when we get home. And he asked me if he could go swimming outside. I cannot blame him one bit. This winter has been a long one...bring on the sunshine and warmth.
Tuesday night he started talking about going for a bike ride as soon as his butt hit his car seat after day care. When we got home, I threw the leash on the dog and brought his bike outside. This was only the second time he has ridden his new bike outside. He's been riding it inside the house since Christmas, but since Old Man Winter has been busy working overtime, we've only hit the sidewalks once before. And it was terrifying. He can go so fast! I could keep up with his tricycle; not a chance with the bike. And we live in the city, so there are cars everywhere and intersections and people and dogs. Scary. He did fine and once again it was only me experiencing the fear of Zeus.
Back to Tuesday. We headed out and he did a very good job of not getting too far ahead of me. And when he was sticking right with me, he insisted on steering with only one hand so we could hold hands. He does love me!!! We covered some good distance which is a stark change from the tricycle days. I don't know if it was because he was so much closer to the ground or what, but that kid would stop and get off of that damn tricycle every 5 feet to inspect an ant or a leave or a crack in the sidewalk. But on the big boy bike, he is on a mission to go fast.
There are a couple reasons I wish I would have videotaped our outing. First, he spent the majority of the ride singing about how fast he was going. Loudly. About half way, he took a break from singing to get off of his bike and tell me he wanted to pee on the corner. Nope nope nope. You're a little too big for that to be cute enough to get away with it. The thing that slayed me about that request was that he clearly didn't have to go that badly. He took his sweet time getting home and then dilly-dallied around in the yard for a while before going in to use the bathroom. So what then? Did he just want to mark his territory? Probably.
The biggest (and not very caring Mom) reason I wish I would have been a dog walking, kid supervising, videoing octopus is this...His bike has training wheels. And he still managed to tip over 3 times. 3 times! Luckily they weren't big spills so he laughed it off and got back on, but still.
Tuesday night he started talking about going for a bike ride as soon as his butt hit his car seat after day care. When we got home, I threw the leash on the dog and brought his bike outside. This was only the second time he has ridden his new bike outside. He's been riding it inside the house since Christmas, but since Old Man Winter has been busy working overtime, we've only hit the sidewalks once before. And it was terrifying. He can go so fast! I could keep up with his tricycle; not a chance with the bike. And we live in the city, so there are cars everywhere and intersections and people and dogs. Scary. He did fine and once again it was only me experiencing the fear of Zeus.
Back to Tuesday. We headed out and he did a very good job of not getting too far ahead of me. And when he was sticking right with me, he insisted on steering with only one hand so we could hold hands. He does love me!!! We covered some good distance which is a stark change from the tricycle days. I don't know if it was because he was so much closer to the ground or what, but that kid would stop and get off of that damn tricycle every 5 feet to inspect an ant or a leave or a crack in the sidewalk. But on the big boy bike, he is on a mission to go fast.
There are a couple reasons I wish I would have videotaped our outing. First, he spent the majority of the ride singing about how fast he was going. Loudly. About half way, he took a break from singing to get off of his bike and tell me he wanted to pee on the corner. Nope nope nope. You're a little too big for that to be cute enough to get away with it. The thing that slayed me about that request was that he clearly didn't have to go that badly. He took his sweet time getting home and then dilly-dallied around in the yard for a while before going in to use the bathroom. So what then? Did he just want to mark his territory? Probably.
The biggest (and not very caring Mom) reason I wish I would have been a dog walking, kid supervising, videoing octopus is this...His bike has training wheels. And he still managed to tip over 3 times. 3 times! Luckily they weren't big spills so he laughed it off and got back on, but still.
Wednesday, April 3, 2013
Participating
We had some elections yesterday. One of those elections was for the State Superintendent of schools; kinda important to me, so I headed on over to the polling site after work. But since I went after work, I had Alex with me. We've never really talked about voting with him being only 3 and all. So on the way there I asked if he wanted to come with me to vote knowing I would have to explain what that was.
About 2 minutes after he said he wanted to go with, he finally asked me what voting is. I told him that voting is how we decide who gets to make the rules. That there are specific people we get to choose from and when you vote, you say which one you want. He sat for a second and then said, "I want to vote for Duder. He makes rules the best."
I have no clue who "Duder" is in this instance, but that is a nickname I have called him since he was a baby so...
About 2 minutes after he said he wanted to go with, he finally asked me what voting is. I told him that voting is how we decide who gets to make the rules. That there are specific people we get to choose from and when you vote, you say which one you want. He sat for a second and then said, "I want to vote for Duder. He makes rules the best."
I have no clue who "Duder" is in this instance, but that is a nickname I have called him since he was a baby so...
Tuesday, April 2, 2013
Tank of Death
Part of the reason I wanted to get Alex a fish tank is kinda morbid. I wanted him to have a pet that he could get mildly attached to that would die before the dog. I wanted him to experience the loss and sadness of a pet dying before the gut wrenching, heart shattering, and soul crushing that is going to hit that kid like a Mack truck when Aiden spaz-barks her way up to Doggy Heaven.
On the dealing with death front, I think Alex is handling it quite well. When he spotted the dead one on Saturday, he matter of factly said, "Welp...We got another dead one!"
Green means go!
Alex has pretty consistently been on the green light the past week. There are a few mornings he gets transferred to the yellow light, but so far he's been able to get his shit together and move on back to the green light before end of day.
So maybe me completely breaking down and crying to him about his behavior really wasn't all that bad...
So maybe me completely breaking down and crying to him about his behavior really wasn't all that bad...
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)