Romance

The other night, Travis was being a smart ass when we went to bed, so I decided to burrito myself in our comforter so he couldn't have any covers.  Because I'm super mature like that.  He forcibly unburritoed me and was nice for .2 seconds and then was sassy again.  So I decided to turbo burrito myself so he didn't have a chance to grab the comforter before I was burritoed once again and his ass was left in the cold.

Buuuuuut...

I didn't pay attention to my location on the bed and I LAUNCHED myself onto the floor.  And then to top it off, I was laughing so hard, I farted.

I know we're all thinkin' it, so I'll say it...Bow-Chicka-Bow-Wow.

Workin' Man

Yesterday, Alex bumped his leg into the dog food container while we were trying to get in the house and he claimed it really really hurt.  I saw how not hard he hit it and blew it off to him looking for attention.  But then later, he didn't have his shorts on, shocking, and I noticed a big ol' swollen red mark on his leg.  Odd, especially since he honestly did not hit that container very hard at all.  Upon closer inspection, it looks like he may have been bitten or stung.

In an effort to figure out what actually did happen, I asked him when he got this particular owie.  His response?  "It happened at work when I was working with my work friends."  Oh, OK...that clears everything up.

Gimme a minute

Alex loves watching Minute to Win It.  Sitting with him while he watches it is hilarious.  Half the time, he is rooting against the contestant because he wants to see whatever it is they are trying to do fall over and smash on the ground.  The other half of the time he is saying something like, "What!?!?  How do they even DO that?!?!"  The laughter of disbelief while he's saying it really makes it though.

Big Boy

I realized the other day that Alex is just about 5lbs over the max weight for his car seat.  Whoopsiedoodle!  A new car seat was needed.  So off to Target we went.

We were walking past the shoes when I remembered there was a pair of sandals that I wanted to see if they had my size in stock.  While Alex was suggesting every pair of gold or sparkly sandals, I took off my shoe and sock to try on the plain ol' black pair I was thinking about.  There was a younger couple in the same shoe aisle that were already suspiciously eyeing my child's taste in shoes.  And I'm sure they were even more impressed when I took off my sock only to find my foot and toes were completely covered in dirt from the day before.  Classin' it up all around.

Anywho, we made it over to the car seat aisle and picked out a couple winners.  One is a high back booster because my child is spoiled and the other is just a run of the mill get-the-kid-high-enough-for-a-seat-belt booster seat.  We took our loot to the check-out, Alex signed for me (close enough in the handwriting department), and we headed out to the car.

Now, having two brand new boosters meant there was no way I was getting that child into his current car seat.  And since I didn't feel like opening up the box of the high back one, I just moved his current one out of the way and slapped the basic booster in its place.  He clamoured up and into his seat so fast you'd think I had promised some sort of gigantic KitKat if he made it into his seat in under 4 seconds.  I buckled him up and got in my seat.  And then I turned around.  And I saw that my toddler had been replaced by a giant boy!

Seriously the reduction in restraint material was enough to send me into orbit.  Where there used to be 5 different anchor points, there is now only 3.  Where he used to look like a miniature trainee for Top Gun strapped in for take-off, he now looks like...well...a big boy.  A big boy that uses just the regular ol' seat-belt.

Memorial Day 2013

We only made it to my parents' one day over the extended weekend, but all the cousins on that side were there so it was a full day.  Travis was busy so it was just me and the beast child.  As always, Gramma's camera was in high gear...

It all starts with a devilish grin...

Nice try on the tackle kiddo!

Ok, this time he "got" me.

 Please note I have to pin him down to be able to give my child kisses.

He wins.  He's beaten me down once again.

Holy Hell

Satan has got nothin' on Jillian Michaels.

I was terrified to try Week 3 and after completing it for the first time, I can confirm that every single shred of terror in my body was absolutely warranted.  Hoooooly shitballs.

Acorns and Trees

Yesterday was a little better than Monday and Tuesday.  Not that it was hard to be better than those two days, but I'm celebrating any improvement and yesterday there was improvement.  The list of daily activities was about 50/50 good and bad.  I'll take it.

There is a side effect of Alex constantly getting in trouble that is really starting to wear on me.  A couple of the other little kids like to inform me if Alex had a bad day the instant I walk in.  There is one little girl in particular that is on my very last frayed nerve.  She has a super high pitched, very loud voice, and she has had her fair number of trips to the red light.  So, ease up little miss pot callin' the kettle black.

The kids were outside when I got there yesterday.  I went out to the playground and waited for Alex to see me while I gauged the expressions on his teachers faces.  Everyone seemed non-homicidal, so I started walking over to Alex.  I squatted down to talk to him and ask him about his day and the little girl comes running up, gets about 2" from my face and shrills, "Alex was bad outside this morning!"  I couldn't stop myself.  I put my hand in front of her face and said, "Whoa.  Back it up girlfriend."  And then I kinda sorted mocked her while asking just how horrible he was.  I just...I mean...I get that he's havin' a rough go of it, but come on.

Gee, I wonder why he's having a hard time with such a mature role model in his daily life for a mother.

What is your damage?!?

Monday and Tuesday were absolutely terrible in the behavior department.  So bad in fact, his teachers have taken to writing things down so I have specific examples of how terrible he is being and can talk to him about his actions.  Monday's report was awful, but included a couple good things and ended with his teacher saying she didn't want this to come off as a list of nightmares, just wanted to make sure we were all on the same page.  It was so awful, I was completely floored when Tuesday's report was even worse.

While on Monday he sat and kicked a chair saying "dammit.  dammit.  dammit." over and over during a timeout, Tuesday he just flipped the table over.  Yes, that's right, he overturned a Fisher Price picnic table outside because he was mad that he was in a timeout.  About half way down on Tuesday's report, I saw, "He is playing VERY well", and then the next line was, "I was about to say he was playing very well with his friends, but he just then slapped a child in the face."  Ummm...what?!

After reading those two little gems, I was questioning if I even knew my own child.  I mean, I know he and I have had some epic battles, but this is some escalated behavior.  I haven't noticed him trying to kill small animals yet, so I haven't lost all hope that I'm not raising a sociopath, but damn dude.

She did mention that he was very good during their fire drill.  And ended the list with, "On a good note, he took a great nap today!"  Sweet.  The only two times he was good was while learning how to save his own ass and when he was asleep.  Stellar.

Last night was a rough one.  I sent him straight to his room when we got home.  After a little while he told me he was ready to listen, and I told him that was great but too bad for him because I wasn't ready for him to be out of his room.  And that's when he whine/yelled that it wasn't fair.  Wrong!  Wrong wrong wrong thing to say buddy.  I responded to that by letting him know all the things that actually weren't fair.  Most of all that I was going to take him for ice cream if he had a good day (which he knew), but since he had a bad day, I didn't get ice cream.  That isn't fair.  I also took that opportunity to remind him that he was the one that created this situation.  That he was in his room due only to his actions.  The low point of my lecture was when he apologized and I told him I didn't believe him.  I told him that he keeps apologizing, but he doesn't change his behavior, so I don't believe that he is sorry.  That may have been a bit of overkill.

He shaped up after being in his room for longer than I'm willing to admit.  We had a great night and he was in top form this morning.  He didn't need to be asked more than once to do anything, which was a glorious change from the norm.  He was in a great mood when I dropped him off.

Here's hoping us repeating the Golden Rule over and over and constantly reminding him he needs to be respectful of other people, especially his teachers and adults...here's to hoping it works for today.  I'm just really not sure I can handle three bad reports in a row.

Prude

Now that it is finally consistently warm outside, my little potty training method last year is coming back to bite me.  Shocking, I know.  If we didn't live right on a rather busy street, I feel like I wouldn't mind so much.  But when there are an average of three people walking past per pee, I kinda feel like we should curb the outside peeing.  Alex feels differently.  He wants to pee outside and he wants to pee on everything.  He even went from the living room to go outside because, "it takes too long to go into the bathroom."  Ummmm...you passed the bathroom on your way outside.

I would be lying if I said there isn't a part of me that gets it.  If I had the proper equipment, peeing outside would be top priority.  But, that's not the point and it's only because I have peed outside without the proper equipment...not fun.  The point is, we are trying to have him pee inside.  So, I told him he's too old to pee outside.  And I reminded him that big boys use the bathroom.

That logic had been working.  Had been working.  He and I were outside playing and I popped into the kitchen to grab some water for us.  I came back out to find him standing there with his pants around his ankles, bare butt facing the street, peeing on the side of the house.  And when I scolded him for peeing not only outside, but ON THE HOUSE, he replied with shrugged shoulders, "What?  It'll dry."

Yeah.  Whether it would dry or not was not really what was bothering me.

Oh yeah, no.

On Saturday, I put in my third workout of Week 2 of the "Ripped in 30" DVD.  And I maybe should have given myself a little longer between workouts because I totally pulled a muscle.  Not happy.    But, with some ibuprofen and an ice pack strapped to my right groin, things are fixing themselves up nicely.  Maybe there is something to be said about healing faster when you're in shape.

Week 2 is so much harder than Week 1.  I just do not understand how she comes up with this shit.  I almost landed on my face during the warm-up.  The amount of coordination and balance required for this workout is quite possibly going to break my brain.  But I can feel a difference in my tone, so I guess she's onto something with her Renegade Rows and Plank Jacks.  And oh my good gravy the Stork Lifts.  Yeah, sure, I'll just go ahead and not smash my head on the floor when you make me stand on one leg with the other leg straight out behind me while bent over at the waist and doing bicep lifts with dumbbells.  'Cause, you know, who wouldn't be able to do that.  Sweet.  Lord.

Leggo my Eggo

When will I learn?  When when when?

This morning on the way to daycare, Alex was happily eating his chocolate chip waffle in the back seat.  About 3/4 of the way there he says, "Here Mom.  You can have the rest of the bites.  I'm done."  I realize we all know where this is going, but come along for the ride anyway.  Keep your arms and legs inside the ride at all times.  Your brain may chose to vacate.  Ready?  Wheeeeeeee!

I made sure to clarify and asked, "You sure I can eat it buddy?  You're all done?"  Yep!  So I foolishly ate it because, well it's a chocolate chip Eggo waffle.  That sucker is not going to sit and go stale in my presence, let's be real.

About 32 seconds after I finished it, he says, "Ok Mom, I'm ready to have some more of my waffle."  What waffle?  The waffle you were done with?  The waffle you told me I could eat?  That waffle?  Yeah...I ate it.

His was pissed.  Whoopsiedoodle.  He's gonna learn to stick to his word one of these days, right?  Or I will learn to never trust anything that comes out of a 3 year old's mouth?  Naaaaah.. What fun would that be amirite?

Newest Julius

I would like to introduce you to the newest member of our family:  Rocky

I'll let you absorb the creative naming skillz my child possesses.  Pretty sure he gets it from his dad.

Don't worry if you forget his name, he comes with his own name tag:

He acquired Rocky at daycare yesterday, which is fine and all, but I have just one quick question...I'm not allowed to send him to daycare with a weapon of mass destruction, so how do they get off sending him home with one?!?

Apologetic Chaos

Alex loves loves loves talking to our neighbors.  And not just the immediate neighbors.  Pretty much anyone that walks past our house is fair game.  Our street is part of the city bike path, so we gets us a lot of foot traffic.  And in turn, Alex gets a lot of conversations.  They may be one sided, favoring the rambling child side, but conversations nonetheless.

The other facet of having so many people walk past involves our asshole of a dog.  She loves or could care less about 47% of the people and dogs that walk by.  But that other 53% is suspect.  How dare they walk next to her fence?!  Don't they know she owns this sidewalk, and sometimes the sidewalk across the street, and for SURE the actual street when a skateboarder is making his or her way past our house?!  And apparently that 53% of the neighborhood population needs to be told they suck at maximum barking volume and maximum running velocity.  We have a very well worn dirt race track about 6 inches away from the fence.  I'm guessing there's a fair amount of dog spittle on the fence too, I just choose not to look.

I try my best to catch her before the outburst starts, but my best doesn't prove to be enough most of the time.  Not to mention, she loves being outside, so she is out there a lot when I am not.  But, if I'm inside and I hear her going ballistic, I usually run out there, try to grab her on one of her manic passes and tell the unsuspecting neighbor I am so sorry my dog sucks.

Alex has seen this happen time and time again.  So now, as soon as the first bark leaves her little doggie lips, he starts trying to accomplish the impossible task of making her shut the hell up.  But obviously, he is rarely successful.  So what ends up happening is ridiculous.  The whole time the dog is going batshit insane along the fence line, Alex is chasing her, alternating between yelling at her and yelling, "Sorry 'bout that!" to the neighbor.  If the neighbor acknowledges his efforts, he lassos them into a conversation about his dog that may or may not end in him telling them that she jumped over the fence the night before (she didn't).  If they ignore him, he just keeps repeating "Sorry 'bout that!" until they are out of sight and then looks at me all defeated and complains that his neighbor wouldn't talk to him.

Total control of my surroundings.

Resonating

We can do no great things, only small things with great love. - Mother Teresa

I've been feeling kinda meh lately.  One of those, "what's the point?" kinda slumps.  Not sure why and I'm pretty sure it's going to pass quickly, but here it is.  When I get to feeling like this, I often find myself thinking about how I'm not really great at anything.  I'm not saying that as a "woe is me I'm worthless" type of thing; I'm just not great at one particular thing.  I saw a whole string of photos today of people doing amazingly athletic things...I fell trying to put on my pants this morning.

And then I came across that quote today.

While I may not excel at any one particular thing, what I can do is all the small things day in and day out and make them worth it.  Make someone smile.  Be silly.  Say yes instead of no.  Aaaaaand GO!

Car Wash

I feel like there are a thousand captions to this photo, but I got nothin'.

I know this is silly to say on a blog...that uses words to communicate my experiences...a blog I'm sometimes told actually uses those words well, but here it is.

I cannot find the words to describe how it makes me feel when I get good updates from daycare.  It's a mix of pride and happy and I knew it! and see Jackie? He IS a good boy and I can't wait to pick him up to see how excited he is to tell me he had a good day and relief and smiley.

We had a really good weekend together as our little family and with most of our brothers and sisters and our moms and dads.  And today's good report text is like an extra bonus round of Mothers' Day.

Sticky rewards

I bought a bunch of neon stickers; neon smiley faces and stars.  The deal is, if Alex has a good day, he gets to put a sticker on the calendar we have hanging on the refrigerator (Thanks Aunt Mimi!).  We started this little system at the beginning of the month.  Today is the 10th.  There are only 5 stickers currently on the calendar.  To be fair, we have not yet determined today's sticker status, but so far he's only 5 for 9.

Travis had to pick Alex up on Monday because I was stuck at home with the nicest but slowest Dish Network employee ever.  They got home and I asked Alex how his day was.  He gave me the sweetest smile and said, "Ummm...I don't know?"  Ooookkkk.  So, for clarification, I asked if that meant he had a bad day.  "Weeeeelllll....I juuuuusst threwalittlebitofwoodchips."  Super duper.

Travis heard this little exchange and let me know his teacher said he had a pretty good day up until the wood chip incident right at the end of the day.  So, I asked Alex if he thought he thought he deserved a sticker for the day.  After a fair amount of deliberation, he decided probably not.

Although the stickers are only producing a 50% success rate thus far, I was very proud of him for self-policing the sticker distribution.  Hopefully we can up his average a little in the coming weeks.  I want that calendar glowing dammit!

Awwwwww

Once again, daycare did not disappoint.  When we walked in this morning, the director was right near the door and called Alex over to give him something to give to me.  The most gigantic chocolate chip banana muffin know to man with three pictures of him stuck on it.

The lighting in my office stinks, but here's the best shot I could get.

Aaaand now I'm really wishing I would have cut his hair a couple weeks earlier than I did.

She's back

I have once again entered the 7th Circle of Hell known as Jillian Michaels workouts.  I tried going back to the 30 Day Shred that kicked my ass before, but I just could not stand to hear the same "motivational" phrases over and over and over again.  One can only hear that a trainer wants you to feel like "you're gargling your heart" so many times before one snaps.  So, I bought one of her new 30 day dealimabobbers, "Ripped in 30."

Dude.

I thought she was a heartless bitch in the first one.  I thought wrong.  She was a glimmering ray of sunshine in the first one compared to the second.  There's a lot of yelling and sarcasm and angry Jillian in this new one.  And the first week is no joke.  I could barely walk my hamstrings hurt so much after the first day.  But I have exactly 30 days until I am in a wedding again, so I'm putting her to the test.

Recently, I set up a little workout space for myself in the basement so I can submit to Jillian's torture without the judging eyes of my beast child.  Seems a closed door and a set of basement steps are not enough of a deterrent.  Each and every time I have headed downstairs to workout, Alex is hot on my heels requesting to watch me.  That would be all fine and good, but he's 3...he's not going to be entertained by his mother's fat butt flailing all over the place, flinging sweat against the walls for 30 minutes.

The first time he came down, his mind was blown by finding all of his old toys down there so everything was fine.  The next time, not so much.  The time after that, he wanted to participate.  He actually did pretty well trying to coordinate his little body for the warm up.  But things got a little tricky when he tried to take over my mat.  He said excuse me, but then tried to kinda nudge me out of the way so he could do push-ups.  I've said it before, and I will say it for the rest of my days..It's a good thing he's cute.

Last night, he was sitting on the steps, eating a pickle and watching me die a slow, sweaty death.  A couple of minutes in, he said, "Wow Mom!  You're really good at exercising!  Good job Mom!"  I think Jillian could take a few lessons from him in the motivational department.

Xtreme Close-Up

Kinda distorted his face a little...but still cute in my book.

Portrait of a Confused Mother

Alex:  Mom, why is the second name "sticks?"
Me: ...ummm...what?
Alex:  Why is the second name "sticks?"
Me:  Huh?  Who's second name?
Alex:  It's second name is "sticks."  Why?
Me:  What?!  I don't know what you're asking me.
Alex:  Gymnastics.  Why is the second name "sticks?"
Me:  Ooooooohhhh!  Yeah.  Ummm.  That's just the word.  And you're pretty cute.

Just for good measure

Let's go ahead and add the following to the accident/injury list:

Scraped knee.
Scraped shoulder from wrestling on a concrete driveway because why not.
Gouged chest, length of both arms and legs from taking a digger on an escalator at the mall.
Rescraped knee from tripping over nothing on his excited way to show me a new hose extension.

The only thing not scraped or bruised this weekend was his precious little face.  And good thing too because let's be honest...this kid needs his good looks to stay alive.

Excuse me.

We have entered a new stage in our house.  The Farts Are Hilarious stage.  I'm thrilled.

Alex has been farting so much lately that Travis very easily got me to sharply ask Alex what he's supposed to say when he toots...when in fact it was Travis's nasty ass.  Blaming the dog is so yesterday.

I'm starting to think my sanity is dependant on them being separated.  I can only handle one at a time.  Or neither of them.  Oh the bright glimmer of solitude!  Don't tease!

Chemical-free Cleaning

Proving his intelligence once again this morning, I caught him licking the sleeve of his coat.  The same sleeve that is used to wipe anything and everything off of his face.  The same coat that I had recently commented on its disgusting state.  And why was he licking it?  "Because it was diiiiiiiir-TY!"  And licking it is your preferred method of getting it...cleaner?  Oooookkkkkk...but how 'bout I just throw it in the washer when we get home instead.

The only thing that stopped me from laughing at him was the immediate gagging after getting a tongue full of food remnants, dried tears, and boogers, and in turn the horrible spiky ball in my stomach that shows up when he looks like he's gonna puke.

Dinner is served

Last night we had a yummy pasta(sweet!) dish with peas(yay!) and mushrooms(I love those!) and asparagus(what.)  That kid loves him some pasta.  He eats frozen peas straight out of the bag and frequently risks losing a finger to my knife while I'm cutting fresh snap peas.  He steals the mushrooms out of anything I am eating.  I'm pretty sure last night was the first experience with asparagus.  Apparently he's not a fan.  When he was close to finishing the first plate, I asked him if he wanted more.  "Yes!  Yes please.  But nothing that looks like those things."

The pasta I used was mini-ish penne.  Halfway through dinner Alex figured out that those bad boys fit perfectly on the tines of a fork.  After spending a solid minute twenty putting pasta on his fork, he informed Travis and I that he was eating it this way because it was easier.  Uh huh.  More fun?  Yes.  Messier, which is synonymous with more fun?  Absolutely.  But easier?  Nice try.

Either way I didn't care much.  He liked what I made, he was eating and with how long it was taking him to get the pasta on his fork, and I actually got to eat my meal without getting up more often than a incontinent squirrel.

Soon..

It's almost 3pm and, although I have had zero contact with daycare, I sit here with an uneasy stomach awaiting the day's report.  I have been reduced to a shaking Chihuahua by a being that has not yet been on this planet for 4 years.

I would talk about yesterday's behavior, but given he figured out Pig Latin and was forced to immediately prove me wrong last time, I am going to keep my hopes and dreams to myself.

Pull up a chair...

We've been havin' a rough couple of days at the Julius's - Madison Chapter.  Friday was an "absolute RockStar day."  He stayed on the green light all day and was just an all around peach.  So we headed into the weekend with high hopes.  I kept my high hopes even after I had to remove him from gymnastics for not listening.  And I still maintained my sunny disposition in spite of Travis accidentally dropping him on Saturday evening.  I was still lookin' at the world through rose colored glasses...until Sunday.

We went to the zoo and to lunch with Kari and Trevor and all was good.  Then we got home and I tried to get him to take a nap.  He was sparing me from a screaming fit, but he was by no means heeding my instructions to lay down.  I told him he didn't have to sleep, that he could read a book or talk to Uno, but he did have to lay down on his bed.  I closed the door and hung out in the kitchen for a couple minutes listening to him rolling around his room like a piece of heavy driftwood.  I tired of that rather quickly, and went back in his room to remind him he needed to stay in bed and rest.  I closed the door and went out to the garage to talk to Travis instead of stomping around the house being all irritated.  At no point during this episode did I think to talk to Alex about not touching the dowel holding the window open.  The window that is right next to his bed.

A couple minutes after I got out to the garage, I thought I could hear Alex crying, so I reluctantly headed back to the house assuming he was whining about having to nap.  About three steps toward the house and I realized this was not a whining cry.  He had absolutely hurt himself.  I bolted into the house and threw open his bedroom door to find him kneeling on his bed, terrified and screaming, with his little wrist pinned between the window and the sill.  He had pulled the dowel out and the 1920's wooden window had crashed down on his arm, and he couldn't get it out.  So that was cool.

Poor kid, his face was soaked with tears and all blotchy from screaming so hard...ya know, while he was waiting for us to hear his painful shrieks from the garage we had retreated to in our frustration.  But, silver lining?  He was so exhausted from the ordeal that he fell asleep on my lap.  So not only did he take a nap, but I had to sit and snuggle him for an hour.  I couldn't get up and risk waking him, duh.  Oh, the other good thing was that nothing was broken in his wrist.  That was good too.

After he slept, all was well and we had some friends over.  Things started out a little rocky with Hazel falling off a swing...twice.  And then our neighbors came over.  All three kids went into the playroom to get toys, and then headed outside giggling with excitement.  So much excitement that the neighbor girl tripped over absolutely nothing, did a somersault and landed on the sidewalk with her face.  Awesomesauce.

We had a little break from the mayhem on Monday.  Alex had a rough morning.  Rough enough that I got a text mid-morning asking if he had a particularly bad weekend...always reassuring.  But, he had a great afternoon.  Nobody injured themselves Monday night.  Phew.

Aaaaand Tuesday.  Alex had a horrendous day.  So bad that I cannot believe his teacher didn't call me.  Oh!  It has been brought to my attention that perhaps I wasn't quite clear on my whole pulling him out of school thing.  I meant to say that I am going to pull him out of school for the day.  Let's not get crazy here and think I'm gonna stay home with this beast.  Ha!  Anywho, at the pinnacle of his craptastic behavior yesterday, he kicked wood chips at his teacher's face.  I'm gonna let that sit there for a minute while and just revel in the amazement that he can be that much of an ass.  Needless to say, I was furious when we left daycare.

I had to stop at the bank on the completely silent ride home.  The teller sweetly asked if I only had one little one with me and she had two suckers in her hand.  I said that yes, I did only have one, but we were not getting suckers today.  She sheepishly put the suckers away and tentatively wished me a great afternoon.  As I was pulling away from the window, Alex had the stones to ask me why I said we weren't getting suckers.  I slammed on the brakes, whipped my head around and asked him just what about his behavior today made him think he was going to get a sucker?!!?!?!  He responded with a barely audible "nothing" and lowered his head.

I wanted nothing more than to send him straight to his room for the rest of eternity when we got home, but I had agreed to help a friend pick up a tv stand...and then go to dinner.  I hadn't 100% decided on dinner, but I did have to follow through on my promise for the tv stand.  Alex kept himself in a very good mood, had perfect manners and was being super cute, so I decided to go to dinner.

We were done getting the tv stand a little earlier than when we were supposed to meet our other friends, so we took a detour to Old Navy because Alex has 1 pair of shorts and 2 tshirts.  He continued being wonderful while we shopped.  He was silly and well mannered.  So I let him climb out of the cart to play with a soccer ball.  The store was pretty empty, so when he asked if he could kick the ball a little I saw no harm.  Apparently the slew of weekend injuries had been washed from my memory.  He was about 15 feet away from me, chasing the ball when I heard a very loud crashing bang.  I spun around as I heard his shrill scream a whole .2 seconds after the crash, only to see him holding his eyes in pain.  Immediately it was clear what happened.  He chased the ball and bent down quickly to pick it up and smashed the outside of his left eye socket on a low hanger rack sticking out.  Luckily, it's only a little bruised.  But it obviously really hurt and scared him, so he was crying very hard.  And with one giant exhale, a gargantuan booger came flying out of his nose on a string of snot and slapped itself onto his cheek.  So there I was trying to comfort him while also trying to desnot him.  I got it off only to be faced with the fact that I then had snot all over my finger and nothing to clean it off.  So...I wiped in on the bottom of my flip flop and went back to snuggling away the owie.  Done and done.

I thought the owie storm had passed when we were making it out the door this morning without mishap.  Alex got to the bottom of the back steps before he realized that he forgot he desperately needed to take his watering can in the car with him, duuuuuh Mom.  I held the door open for him so he could get back into the mudroom to retrieve his prized gardening tool.  Which is when he walked right into my lunch bag full of a zillion tupperware containers because heaven forbid he wouldn't have ten options for snacks when I pick him up.  After he tried to blame me for him running into the bag, I heard him say, "Great...now both my eyes hurt."

Here's to hopin things are on their way up.