Helping?

Once again, I have a coworker for my working from home days...

This cold has got to give up sooner or later, right?

Cough Cough Hack

Sam spent the Monday and Tuesday before Christmas home sick with me.  And that little Outbreak Monkey got the rest of us sick.  I woke up at 5am on Christmas Eve to the sounds of Alex's little feet sprinting to the bathroom to throw up.  He didn't have a fever, and I'll spare the details, but it seemed as though his stomach was upset from drainage from some congested sinuses.  We called Gramma and she said most the family was sick anyway, so we better get our butts home for Christmas.  And what Gramma says goes, so we packed up and headed on over.

Alex was ok until mid afternoon and then he went downhill fast.  He was still in rough shape in the morning.  It was about 7:30 when I finally asked him if he remembered what day it was.  He pathetically replied, "Yes.  I remember.  It's Christmas Day."  And when he said "not yet" after I asked him if he wanted to go see if Santa came, I knew we were in trouble.

He did a good job throughout present opening and was super polite.  But he didn't last much longer than opening...

He is still in rough enough shape that he stayed home from day care today.  Lots o' Paw Patrol in the Julius house the last 3 days.

Merry Christmas!

Nothing says "Merry Christmas!" quite like black Angry Birds wrapping paper.  But when you have a 5 year old that is certain Santa knows he likes Angry Birds, and in turn is certain Santa will use Angry Bird wrapping paper for his presents, and you couldn't find any festive Angry Birds wrapping paper...you use black Angry Bird wrapping paper.

Yep.

In case you were thinking I sound like I have things under control lately, I figured I'd share what I discovered last night.

I was looking for an email from Alex's teacher.  And when I look at my email inbox on my phone, it shows the profile pictures of the people included on each email.  It does not do this when I have my inbox open on my computer.  Anywho, while I was scrolling through, I noticed an email she sent that I replied to, and there were two profile pictures sitting side by side.  Her very nice picture and mine.  This.  This is what is attached to every email I have sent my son's kindergarten teacher for the last three months:

Once again, I am the epitome of class and grace.

This baby.

Are you even kidding me with how cute this baby is?

Sage Advice

Latest word I hope he never figures out he's saying incorrectly:  Facesplat.  This is used in lieu of "faceplant."

"Mom, here's a good tip for you...don't ever facesplat...it'll hurt."

Noodle Store Adventures

I had a couple errands to run on Sunday, and since the other adult in our household had a self-induced stomach ache, I took the boys with me.  The first stop was Alex's haircut.  All went well until Sam pooped.  I went into the bathroom to change him and there was no changing thingy on the wall, so I put the little changing mat I have on the floor and put Sam on it.  And he was pissed.  Screamed the whole time I was changing him...in a very echoy bathroom.  Oh well.

As we got into the car after the haircut, I noticed a tear in my jeans.  Right at the bottom of the zipper.  I noticed this because I could see my red underwear through it.  Now I had a decision to make.  Go the four minutes back to the house and change my jeans, or take the chance that the tear wouldn't go any farther and my shirt was long enough to cover it.  Oh, I took the chance.  But the sad part is what swayed me...I really really didn't feel like taking my shoes off to change my jeans and then have to retie them.  That was what sealed the deal for me.  I am not proud of that.

The next stop was the bookstore.  All went well there and I managed to not show my underwear to anyone.  Including one of Alex's day care teachers who was there as well.  This bookstore is in the same strip mall as Noodles.  Alex saw the Noodles sign, gasped, and asked if we could have lunch there.  Here's the thing:  he loves Noodles.  But 97% of the time we go, he ends up throwing up in the bathroom.  Usually it's because he's taking too big of bites.  Sometimes I think he just likes the excitement.  Other times I think he does it out of habit.  But rare are the times we make it out of Noodles without a dramatic sprint to the bathroom.  I told him we could go, but that he had to promise to take small bites the whole time because we had Sam with us and I couldn't leave Sam sitting on the table while I ran to the bathroom with Pukey McPukerton.  He promised, and again I found myself taking a chance I wasn't sure was going to pay off.

We ordered, found a table, got situated, and awaited the arrival of our food.  Within seconds of sitting, Alex very loudly asked, "Why does it smell so bad in here?"  I tried to quietly explain to him that he was smelling the perfume of the lovely elderly woman sitting behind us.  "Why would someone wear that much yucky smelling perfume?" he shout whispered.  I don't know honey.  I would have moved to a different table, but there were a scant few open, and we had the stroller and car seat in addition to the two of us.  I was certain the yucky old lady smell was gonna make this kid vomit.  I reminded him to be polite and we went back to waiting.  Once the food got there, he was very conscious and verbal about taking small bites.  And he did really well until the very end.  He took a huge forkful of noodles and looked at me with slight panic.  I calmly asked if he had too much in his mouth and instructed him to spit it back in his bowl.  I did that calmly while terror streaked through my body like lightening.  I did a quick survey of our fellow retaurant attendees, located the nicest looking one, and was seconds from asking a complete strange to keep an eye on my sleeping baby while also not stealing him.  Luckily, I did not have to call on the hopeful kindness of strangers...with a few sips of Sprite, Mr. Alex was right as rain.

You'd think not dealing with puke would be the highlight of lunch.  And it was right up there, but Alex topped it with the following conversation:

Alex:  Mom?  When I'm a grown-up, will you still be alive?
Me:  I'm planning on it.
Alex:  Are you sure?  'Cause that's a long time.
Me:  Well, I'm a grown-up and Gramma and Grandpa Z are still alive, so see?
Alex:  K.  'Cause do you remember that thing we were talking about?
Me:  No...
Alex:  Ok.  It's just that I always want you to be with me.
Me fighting tears with every fiber of my being:  I will always be with you buddy.

And that was only topped with a purchase of a remote control Yoshi that can climb the walls.   Yes, I know it's almost Christmas and he's spoiled and I shouldn't have spent the money and I should have made him wait.  But...it's a Yoshi that can climb the walls.  That shit was comin' home with us.

Winners!

Day care had a pop top collection contest to have a big ol' pile of pop tops to donate to Ronald McDonald House in Madison just before Christmas.

Back story:  Travis has been collecting the tops of cans for well over a year.  Did he have a fundraiser?  Nope, not one he was aware of anyway.  For over  year I have been finding little piles of pop tops everywhere.  In the kitchen, on his dresser, in the dryer.  It has been driving me mad.  And then I got the note in our family cubby at day care.  I brought it home and handed it to him while telling him his ship has finally come in.

Day care posted a picture of the results of the contest.  Pretty sure it looks as though that Julius family has a drinking problem...

Sentences

Yesterday was NOT an all smiley face day for one Mr. Alex.  In fact, yesterday was a day wrought with disrespect toward his teachers.  His teachers all pointed out that he was not an instigator in any of the "collective behavior incidents," but he was an active participant.  I was first told he was having a rough day by his teacher when I was in making copies for her.  And then I got a call from the office staff explaining that the boys involved in the "collective behavior incidents" were so out of control during the time the teachers were keeping them in from recess as a punishment, they had to be separated in the office.  And then I could hear him screaming during his time out at day care...while I was inside and he was outside.  And then I got to read over his daily behavior report and the incident report from the office, sign both and put them back in his folder.

Needless to say, I was not a happy Mama Bird.

While we were getting in the car to go home, he was whining that he didn't want to go home because it was going to be boring.  I quickly assured him it was by no means going to be boring.  Why?  Because he earned himself wall washing.  A friend of mine makes her daughter wash walls as a punishment and it was the only thing I could think of.  I can't just have him sit in a time out.  Doesn't do any good.  Wall washing it is.

But once we got home, I realized that would most likely cause more of a mess than anything, so I quickly changed my mind.  I told him to get one of his notebooks and come sit at the table.  And then I had him write, "I am sorry for yelling."  And as soon as he told me he was done, I said, "Write it again."  And when he was done with that one?  "Write it again."

There were a lot of tears and claims that it was too hard and taking too long.  But after about the 10th "Write it again." I think it made a dent.  After he finished that one, he asked if he could write a note to his gym teacher saying he was sorry for being disrespectful.  I let him only write that one once.

Stamp It Up!

Wanna guess who got a blue snowflake stamp in the stocking St. Nick left at day care for him?

The one on his neck is killin' me.  It looks like a prison tattoo.  

This was all accomplished during the 4 minute drive home from daycare.

Listening...and listening...and listening

This is currently my favorite picture of Alex with one of his aunts.  Her expression sums up pretty much every person's feelings when listening to one of his long winded stories or massive instructions for whatever game he has concocted.  It's a solid mix of "ooooooh shit, how am I supposed to remember all of this?"  and, "Ok...is he done now?  no...not yet...maybe now?"

Fancy Tree

Alex and the little girl that lives next door hung the ornaments on the tree.  Can you tell they are not very tall...and then only a little taller when using a Lightning McQueen step stool?

The other sporatic ornaments and "icicles" were randomly placed by goofy nephews.

He'll Be Moving Out Soon

So first this kid loses a tooth and then yesterday.  Yesterday.  YESTERDAY!

I was upstairs going through another size of clothes that Sam has already outgrown, and I heard Alex messing around in the kitchen.  I heard a chair being pushed around, some cupboards opening, the refrigerator opening and closing.  I went down to the kitchen to see what mischeif my little man was getting himself into only to find him MAKING HIMSELF A PEANUT BUTTER AND JELLY SANDWHICH.  All by himself.  Just sitting at the kitchen table, making himself food, like it was no big deal.

While holding back tears, I commented on how proud I was of him.  He just looked up and said, "Fanks, Mom.  Can you open the jelly jar though?  It's kiiiiiiiiinda sticky."

Slippery Little Suckers

Previously on Chocolate Sprinkle:  Alex lost a tooth at school on Friday...

The tooth apparently came out while he was eating his green beans during lunch at school.  Such a good boy eating healthy food!  He told me he bit down on a green bean and then noticed his tooth was inside the shell of the bean and "I was like, 'What?!  That's not supposed to be in there!  And then I knew I lost my tooth.'"

So he took the tooth out of the bean and went to the office to get a treasure box that they give to kids when they lose teeth at school so they can safely take them home.  But instead of taking his directly to his backpack, he gave in when another kid asked to see it.  And that kid apparently only sees with his hands and not with his eyes, because he grabbed the treasure box out of Alex's hand and sent the tiny white tooth flying out of the box and bouncing down the expansive white tile floor of the hallway.  So instead of coming home with the first tooth to fall out of his little mouth, he came home with an empty treasure box and an apologize letter from that kid.  I am not happy with that kid.

Anywho, we decided to write a letter to the toothfairy explaining what happened:

"Dear toothfairy i lost my tooth at school and i kan't find it."

He also told me he was going to be sure to sleep with his mouth open so the toothfairy could see the gap in his mouth where the tooth used to be so she would know he wasn't lying.  At first I was all, "Awwww, how cute is that?!"  And then I realized that his little mind had already worked out that people might lie about losing teeth to extort money from the toothfairy.  And then I got scared about how his mind works again.

Since I'm a super on top of my shit mom, we finally put the letter under his pillow last night, and sent him off to dream land.  This morning he came into my room all sleepy-eyed and naked, donning his Angry Birds blanket at the longest cape ever, and said good morning.  I asked if he checked to see if the toothfairy came and he lit up like the stage at a Liberace show and ran back into his room.  He threw his pillow off his bed to find a $2 bill pressed to the sheet.  He looked up at me with the biggest smile and exclaimed, "She decided to be SO NICE to me!"

Obligatory picture even though the Awkward Picture Face is still in full effect:

Gettin' Old

Alex lost a tooth!!!

....

And then he lost the tooth.

Of course he did.  Picture and story update to be posted once I talk to him.

Who me?

Who me?  You think I'm cute?

Can't do it

I still haven't cut Sam's hair.  I just can't do it.  It gets tangled when we wash it and it gets greasy super fast, but how do you expect me to give up hair like this:

Observant

Last night while I was getting Alex's bath ready, a full week after the untimely death of Mark the Caterpillar, he looks up at me and says, "Hey Mom...is Mark still with us?"  Nope.  But good lookin' out kiddo.

That Special Time of Year

"Hey Mom!  Mom!  Mooooom!

.....

Do I look like Santa?"

That one little half raised eyebrow speaks volumes to this kid's personality.

Short Lived

Mark has passed away.  His time with us was breif and barely meaningful.  Now all we can do is hope not having any visual triggers will help Alex in his ability to completely forget the caterpillar even existed.

New Friends

I was walking through our garage/shop area at work and spotted a fuzzy little woolly caterpillar crawling along the floor.  I was going to put the little guy outside, but then I figured Alex would think it was pretty cool to make a caterpillar habitat and watch this little arc on the circle of life take place.  So I scooped him up in a container and took him home.

He first had to come with me to the mechanic and wait for the car to be taken down off the lift so we could go home.  He got a little extra adoration from the customer service lady and we were on our way.

Alex was very excited when I showed him, and he immediately asked if all of his pets could be next to each other on his dresser.  I assured him the caterpillar could take up residence next to Bingo Zingo Fast.  After we planned out how we would build the caterpillar's new home, I asked Alex what he wanted to name him.

And from the child that named his fish Uno, Dos, and Bingo Zinog Fast came the caterpillar name of:

Mark.

Aaaaaand we have entered the awkward picture face phase of life:

What Turkey?

I present to you the glorious "chicken" Alex took to school today.  I don't know what you're talking about, I don't see a turkey there.

Imgination

Last night as Alex and I were sitting down to our fancy dinner of Ramen, he suddenly clamped his eyes shut as tightly as possible and announced he was looking into his brain.  And then, "Ah!  A dinosaur!"  As quickly as he had spotted the dinosaur, he smacked himself in the side of the head to "knock the dinosaur out of his brain."

And then he crammed way too many Ramen noodles in his mouth, gagged, and barfed.

I chose this life.

Gobble Gobble Cluck

Alex recived an assignment from school.  He was given a drawing of a turkey and instructed to disguise the turkey so it wouldn't get eaten for Thanksgiving.  The instructions gave examples of disguises students have used in the past; Bucky Badger outfit, sequins, stickers, buttons, etc.  Each kid is supposed to use their imagination to come up with a disguise, and then they will write a short story about their turkey's disguise.

So I asked Alex what he thought we should disguise his turkey as.  His response?  A chicken.

...

He wants to disguise his turkey as a chicken.  A chicken.  So it doesn't get eaten.  This kid is goin' places.

I'm an adult.

I just sat here trying to pick a button off of my shirt because I thought it was a Corn Nut I had dropped.

If you ever have a moment where you find yourself questioning your abilities as a functioning human being...just reread that sentence.  You'll feel better.

On a Roll

How do you stop a baby from rolling over?  No, this isn't a joke, I am for real asking.  Sam has mastered rolling from his back to his stomach, but the learning curve stopped there.  It stopped there and has left us dangling from a crumbling, angry cliff.

Samalamadingdong has yet to figure out how to get back to his back.  And he's cool with that...for about 15 seconds. And then he's pissed.  Not a super huge deal when he's just hanging out on his play mat.  TOTALLY a super huge deal when I lay him down in his crib to go to sleep, and instead of just going to sleep like a good baby, he rolls over, and is livid that he's stuck.  Four times.  Four times he rolls over and gets his diaper in a bunch 'cause he can't figure out how to get back from whence he came.

And yes, I realized while typing this that the solution to this problem is to teach him to roll back over.  Leave me alone.  I'm tired.  I've been dealing with a pissed off baby stuck on his stomach.

Storage

Alex is still rockin' his monster hat from last year.  The tie string thingys have long since gone missing which is fine since he never tied them any way.  But they did leave little holes where they were attached.  And one of those little holes has turned into a big hole by the hands of a certain 5 year old. (Bob Hannigee?  Is that you?)

He has made the hole big enought that he can fit his hand between the lining and the outer shell all the way to the top of his hat.  And since he can do that, he has decided this is a brilliant storage place.  At least that's the story I got when I asked him why there was such a big hole in his hat.  And just to solidify his story, he's following through and "storing" his gloves in there.  I'm just happy he finally found a place to put them so we can stop losing them.  And I was delighted to find what I thought was the third pair of gloves lost crammed up in there.

Happy Halloween!

Sam was totally into it.

I cannot express how excited I am this hat fits his little noggin:

Boys

There is nothing quite like starting your day with your 5 year old yelling to you from the bathroom, "Hey Mom!  Come look at what I made!!"  And then, "I've never made a 'J' poop before!  It musta been curled around my butt!  Hahahahaha!"

And all this on the heels of him realizing that "penis" is the funniest word he has ever known.  At least 8 times a day I hear, "My penis.  Bwwwaaahahahahhaha!"

I live a life of glamour.

Morning Fun

This morning Alex woke me up at 7:00.  His bus picks him up at 7:13.  Wanna guess who accidentally turned their alarm clock off?  Yeah.  Awesomesauce.

In an effort to get things going more quickly, I excitedly told Alex school was serving cheese quesadillas for lunch today!  Doesn't that sound yummy?!  Nope.  No dice.  He wanted a peanut butter and jelly.  Surprirse surprise.

So, I frantically started making a lunch for him while gently shouting getting dressed instructions.  Quick aside:  This kid does not care about clothes.  Like at all.  If he had his choice, he would be naked 99% of the day.  This is an awesome thing when it comes to clothes shopping.  I never have to take him with, and he never bawks at what I buy for him.  This is not such an awesome thing when it comes to getting dressed.  Since he has zero preference most times, he has zero motivation to grab an outfit from his dresser while also lacking any drive to don himself in said outfit.

Anywho, I was telling him to grab some clothes while I made his sandwhich.  I left it on the table and scurried to the sink to clean some strawberries to cram in his lunch with the PB&J.  While I was at the sink, I heard some rustling at the table, but I was too focused on cleaning the berries and attempting to coerce Alex into some clothes to look up to see what it was.  Finally the continued noise got the best of my curiosity and I looked over to see the DAMN DOG EATING THE PB&J.  Of course she is.

So I yelled at her, which prompted Alex to ask me what was wrong.  And when I told him the dog ate his sandwhich, he stood there, completely naked and shell shocked, and juuuuuust about started to cry while telling me that he "really really wanted that peanut butter and jelly."  Yes, I know you really really wanted it and that is why I'm making another one.  Don't cry!  See?  I've already grabbed the bread!  Don't cry.  If anyone is going to cry around here, it's gonna be me!

I went into hyper-pb&j-making-drive, threw the sandwhich, strawberries, and a fun size KitKat in his lunchbox while cramming flip-flops on my feet.  I had him down his allergy medicine while I zipped up his jacket and we took off to the bus stop.  Totally made it.

And just for extra fun?  The dog did this after leaving two puddles of pee and four turds on the carpet in the last 18 hours.

It's no wonder I missed Sam rolling over.

2nd Baby Problems

Sam rolled over!  Twice!  And I missed it both times.  Did I miss it because he accomplished this milestone at daycare?  Nope.  I missed it because I wasn't paying attention.  I missed it because he is an easy baby that can entertain himself for quite some time.  I missed it because I foolishly let everything else get in the way of watching my baby grow.

Last night after we got home, I put him on his play mat in the living room and walked the 6 steps to the kitchen and started opening the mail.  After a couple minutes, I heard all this grunting coming from Sam, so I went back into the living room to find him on his stomach.  I immediately returned him to his back and instructed him to do it again so I could see.  Shockingly, he did not accommodate my request.  He just laid there gurgling and blowing spit bubbles at me while grinning like an idiot.

And then this morning, Travis brought him downstairs while I finished getting ready.  He laid him down on his play mat and quick ran to the bathroom.  I whipped my hair up into my daily ponytail, and headed downstairs.  And I found a very proud, grinning baby, propped up on his elbows.

I cannot believe I missed it both times.  I'm pretty sure we recorded Alex rolling over, but Sam?  We just leave him alone often enough that we have yet to even witness him rolling over, much less record the event.

Any bets on whether he has to come up and pull on my leg to get me to notice when he can crawl?

Evolving Friendships

Alex took off on his bike to go play with some neighborhood friends yesterday, and he came home rather quickly and obviously unhappy.  When I asked what was wrong, he told me the kids he went to play with said they didn't want to play with him.  Oh boy.  

I took a deep breath in an attempt to stave off my protective feelings so I could prevent the homicide of uncaring unfeeling monstrous children, and asked him to explain.  His rendition of events was less than clear, so I just told him I was really sorry he felt sad and that it sounded like there may have been some confusion between the kids and we should try to move on and keep working on being a good friend.

A couple hours later, I was getting ready to put him to bed and I saw my phone flashing its little green message light.  I checked and found a text from my neighbor; the mother of one of the kids Alex said ripped his heart out earlier.  She said her daughter was super upset because she was worried she hurt Alex's feelings because she didn't invite him to play and her daughter wanted to know if Alex was ok.  That set off a series texts between the two kids, using us mothers as conduits:

Alex:  That message is just what I needed.

Friend:  I'm gonna make a card for you, I feel horribly bad.  I love you.

Alex:  :) Jackie is going to charge my dune racer so we can ride in it together.

Friend:  That makes me feel better...see ya tomorrow!

Alex:  Goodnight!

Friend:  'Night!

Here's to hopin' all future friendly kerfuffles are fixed so easily.

So Close

Sam slept through the night!  Now wouldn't it have been nice if Alex had done the same?

I'm tellin' ya...

These two are twins separated by time.  Like half of the egg was just chillin' for a while; waitin' its turn.

They even have the same little elf ear.

Lessons with Grandpa Z

Peas

Don't let this picture fool you...the peas did not go over quite as well as the squash.  But we could totally pretend they did with this picture.

Pumpkin Carving

Alex was very eager to be the designer of his pumpkin.

 After many repeated instructions, and helping me with the carving, I think his idea turned out pretty darn good.

 He was adament that he needed to carry it over to show Grandpa.

 He was also very proud of how big the mouth ended up.

 When lit, I bounce between thinking it's cute and being terrified of it.

LIttle Pumpkins

Hang on honey, let me get you some ranch. (Extra points for anyone that can name the movie.)

Red Store of Wonder

Up until a couple months ago, we referred to different stores and restaurants by color for the most part.  Blue French Fry Store?  Culver's.  Red Store?  Target.  Red French Fry Store?  McDonald's.  Just recently I said something about going to the Red Store, and Alex plainly said, "You mean Target?"  Yes, my little one that is growing up way too fast for me, I did mean Target.

And speaking of Target, we were there last night getting a winter coat for Mr. Alex.  Since we were already there, I begrudgingly also bought snowpants, gloves, and a hat.  I make enough trips to the Red Store without being whiny and forcing separate trips.  So, I loaded up the cart and braced myself for the total when checking out, only to be pleasantly surprised by the fact that everything was on sale!

And good thing everything was on sale because I will be going back today to replace the Spiderman lunchbox the asshat of a dog destroyed while we were gone.

Thanks Grandpa Z!

We have moved on from bananas.  Poor kid hasn't pooed in a day and half.

Last time we were home at my parents' house, Grandpa Z hooked us up with a couple spaghetti squash.  Fresh from the field no less!  We just won't talk about where in the field.  I managed to eat the first one.  Like all of it.  I think Travis had two bites.  Alex claimed he doesn't like it.  He's full of it.  Either way, 99% of it ended up in my belly.

I cooked up the second one and have been snacking on it the past day or so, and I figured it would be an easy second food for that baby we've got livin' with us.  He fell asleep at 6:30 last night and I didn't feel much like attempting solid food at 11:30 when he woke up to eat, so he hadn't tried yet when I dropped him off at daycare with a bowl full of mashed sqaush.  I warned his teacher that we had no clue whether he was going to eat it or not.

Preeeeetty sure he like it:

Picture Day!

They did a surprise picture day at daycare this week.  I kinda wish I had known so I could've put him in a different shirt...but then again, that kid's butt totally warrants this shirt being immortalized in pictures!

Eye of the Beholder

The other night Sam barfed all over my shoulder.  Normally I would call it "spit up" because it's all formula and comes up within seconds of him drinking a bottle, like a "whoops!  Went passed the fill line...this specific ounce cannot stay."  But this time, it was long enough after he drank a bottle that it wasn't just formula anymore.  It was partially digested already and curdely and nasty and therefore can be classified as barf.  And it was all. over. my shoulder.

So I held Sam at arm's length to avoid squishing the barf deeper into both of our clothes and hopefully keeping it out his ear.  Seriously, I don't get it.  That kid will spit up/barf on my shoulder and immediately rub his head in it.  I mean...what?  Why would you do that?  It's wet and it stinks.  That is a combination that should quickly let you know specifically not to rub your head in it.  Maybe he's been spending too much time with Aiden.

Aaaaaanyway, I had him at arm's length and was lovingly telling him he was a gross baby.  And with that, Alex piped up and scolded me, "Moooom!  He is not a gross baby!  He is a cute baby!!"

Ah, brotherly love.

Foodie

Sam did alright with the rice cereal last week, so we decided to move on to actual food this week.  First up:  bananas.  (Which, given this child's need for probiotics to be able to poo normally, maybe wasn't a great first choice.)

I brought him to the dinner table with us and smashed up some banana.  Since he has decided that eating from a spoon is super exciting, he got all wiggly when he saw his spoon.  He opened his mouth all huge and I delivered the goods.  The second it hit his tongue, he sat up straight and looked at me with a glimmer in his eye like, "What is the magical compound you are feeding me?  It is de-LICIOUS!"  He swallowed quickly and immediately opened his mouth back up.  He got almost a naughty look, like he thought I didn't know how yummy this gloriousness was, but he for sure wasn't going to tell me.

A quarter of a banana later, he fell asleep in my lap.

When you start to introduce real food, you have to go one at a time to make sure the kid isn't allergic to what you're cramming down their gullet.  Also, usually more sleep comes with real food.  But I will tell you, it is terrifying when your baby that might be allergic to bananas sleeps incredibly soundly for 7&1/2 hours.  So terrifying infact, you get approximately, ummm, oh yeah, ZERO sleep because you are constantly wondering if it's been long enough since the last time you checked on him to warrant another check-in.

Good news!  He's not allergic to bananas!

When I dropped him off this morning, one of our favorite teachers, who has been there since Alex was a baby, was the teacher in his room.  I excitedly told her we tried bananas and I produced the remainder of the banana for her to smash up whenever she felt like feeding it to him.  She smiled and teasingly said, "Oh that's right...you're one of those."  Ribbing me for the fact that I would rather make his food and bring it in, than have them feed him the jarred food that they provide as part of his tuition.  Obvisously, she was joking and likes to tease me since I am pretty much the only one that does or has done that.  But it did make me realize something.  I am totally ok with feeding my infant completely manufactured powdered most likely chemically produced formula, but when it comes to feeding him something that I can actually pronounce all the ingredients all the jar, I get all "only natural foods for any baby of mine!"  We've all got our thing I guess.

Storm (Drain) Chaser

Alex has figured out that the storm drains are all connected under the streets.  This discovery of an underground storm drain system has blown his little mind.  He gets so excited when someone comes over to the house so he can explain it to them. He clearly thinks none of us stupid adults know about this system.  Because obviously, there is no way we could know and not be super pumped about it at all times.

It has been raining kinda a lot the last three days or so and his amusement with the drain system is pretty much the only reason I'm not losing it from lack of sunshine.  It was raining hard enough the other day to cause little rivers on the sides of the road.  He only stopped running in the little rivers long enough to grab a handful of straw from Travis's fall yard decorations and drop it in the river to watch where it would go.  He watched it until it went into the drain on our side of the street and then he took off at a sprint across the street to look down into the drain on the other side.  Based on the maniacal laugh screaming, I gathered he saw the straw on the other side.

It's the simple things.

Still Twins

They are about a month and a half different in age in these two pictures, but Sam is getting bigger faster than Alex, so I think we're good to go with the comparison.

I cannot get over how much these two look alike...even down to the little dent right up near their eyes they get when they smile.  Alex's eyes are a bit lighter blue, but other than that?  Twins.

Solids...kinda

Sam tried rice cereal.  The first go 'round was not even in the same ballpark as pointless.  It was pointless.  Our kitchen table became Gerber Pointless Arena.  We may not get the same big names as the Staples Center, but the shows are amusing nonetheless.  

The beginning of the second attempt had me thinking this kid might just drink formula forever.  But a couple minutes of me cramming spoonhalffulls of goo in his mouth, he started to understand what was happening and was even opening up his mouth like a little baby bird when he spotted the spoon.

I promise he enjoyed it much more than this picture conveys.  I also promise some cereal actually was eaten.

Future Movie Stars

This kid's hair is just too much.  It's long enough that it get snarls in it when I wash it.  But I am not even remotely close to being ready to cut it.  If I cut it, I wouldn't be able to make him look like Ace Ventura!  (Apparently I have a thing about making my kids look like Jim Carrey characters.)

And people say you can only do fun hair things with girls!  Ha!  

Adventures in School Lunch

Alex has been firmly against getting school lunch.  He wants me to make him a lunch pretty much every day.  And he wants a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.  Every time.  I usually throw some veggies in his lunchbox too, but it bothers Travis that he eats pb&j every day, so we've been trying to get him to try school lunch.  A couple days have been successful.  I thought pancake day was going to be a smash hit, but after he said he didn't like the pancakes, I looked at the menu again and saw they served whole grain pancakes.  Now, I get what they're doin' there, but come on.  If you're going to serve pancakes for lunch, which is glorious, do it right.  Don't try to be all sneaky healthy.  Moments like this are where trust issues are born.

Anywho, this morning I thought for sure he was going to get school lunch...

"Hey buddy!  They are serving mini corn dogs for lunch today!"
"I don't like those."
"Yes you do.  You like corn dogs."
"I like regular corn dogs...not the mini ones."
"Dude, they're the same as the regular ones; just without that annoying stick!"
"I like the stick."
"Fine...peanut butter and jelly?"
"YES!  Thanks Mom!"

Lap of Luxury

I got my haircut on Tuesday evening, which means Travis was alone with the boys.  Not that big of a deal, but it's a little tough right now because all Alex wants to do is ride his bike and play outside and all Sam can really do outside is sit in his stroller.  Anywho, I had confidence in Travis's ability to entertain and feed the beasts whilst I was away being pampered.

My confidence was not proven foolish upon my arrival home.  Both boys were in bed and the house (and Travis) were still standing.  I caught a quick glimpse of the living room on my way to the bathroom,and I saw that the couch cushion covers were not on the couch cushions.  This can only mean one thing:   enough of something got on the couch to require removal of the cushion covers to get them in the washing machine.  I inquired as to what happened, and Travis told me he would explain when I got back from the bathroom.  Oh good!  Whatever happened needs explaining!

Apparently while Travis was feeding Sam, Alex was watching a show.  About half way through, he stood up and said, "Uhhhh..Dad?  I had an accident."  And he wasn't kidding.  He had a lot of an accident.  When Travis asked him why he didn't take a break, he said, "Well, I tried to stop once I started, but I couldn't!!"  (His haircut must have been an omen...Lloyd Christmas strikes again.) Pretty sure that's not what Travis meant by taking a break.  Either way, he didn't take a break and there was a lot of pee on the couch.

When we went to bed later, we discovered the dog had lovingly peed on our quilt.  And she peed enough to soak through the quilt, sheet, mattress pad, and into the memory foam mattress topper.  Lucky for us though, the memory foam soaked up all that pee and nothing got on the mattress!  Phew.  Heaven forbid something would get on the mattress that requires a memory foam topper to make it tolerable!

After helping me change the sheets on the bed, Travis went to the bathroom only to find that Alex had missed the toilet one of the times he managed to make it to the bathroom instead of peeing on the couch.  And from the bathroom I heard Travis yelling, "Why does everything in this house have to be covered in pee?!?!?!?"

We live a glamorous life.

Piling Up

Aaaaaaand, let's go ahead and add tennis elbow to the ever increasing list of bodily ailments I am currently enduring.  Because why not?!  We don't want that silly right arm feeling left out now do we?  No no, that just won't do.

Nostalgic

Since Alex has started riding the bus, I have been reminded of the little traditions of bus riding...

Every time we come upon a railroad track, he gasps and yells to cross your fingers against the window.  We used to just have to lift our feet up, but whatever floats your good luck boat.

And then the other day, we passed a couple of cemetaries in a row.  He took in such a huge breath while simultaneously shouting "CEMETARY!" I had no way of understanding what was happening until we got to the second one and the process was repeated.  Luckily, they were both pretty small, or I think that kid would've passed out cold making sure no evil spirits took over his body.

Not Fair

I received this picture from daycare a whopping 4 minutes after I dropped off Sam:

Given the staggering number of times he woke up last night, there was no doubt in my mind he was going to fall sleep nearly immediately upon arrival.  And I'm very happy he's so content at daycare.  But when does the lady that got up with him every time he woke up last night get to take a nap?

P.S.-That lady is me and I'm tired.

Brain Freeze

I realize it's been almost a week since my last post.  I just haven't felt a whole ton like writing, which is odd, but I'm quite sure will go away.  Now that I wrote it down, I'll probably come up with four different things to write about.  We shall see.  Until then...

We're experiencing technical difficulties!  We'll be right back!

Mini-Gangster

This morning Alex asked me to pack up his dollars and most of his change in his backpack.  Why?  Because he wanted to give money to any kids that were getting picked on to cheer them up.

My very first thought was, "Holy shit.  He's gonna punch a kid, and then pay him off...he wants to take hush money to school."

Yes, I felt bad that I immediatly thought that instead of thinking my sweet boy is looking out for other kids.  But I mean....I think I'm just a little justified in that thought.

The Race Is On

I don't want to pick a favorite between my children, but I will tell you; the one that sleeps until 8:45 on a Saturday is definitely edging out a lead.

Stylin'

I was on Predisone for this ridiculous back issue.  When I got the prescription, the pharamcist told me it might make me feel a little absent minded.  He was not kidding.  I kept finding myself doing strange things like putting the peanut butter in the fridge even though I have never kept it in there ever in my life.  Or putting Alex's umbrella behind the dog food instead of hanging it on its hook, because of course why wouldn't I do that.  And then the other day, around 10:30am, I realized I left the house, dropped off Sam, and came to work donning not a single spec of make-up.  Now, I don't really wear much make-up anyway so I wasn't all that upset about being out and about all sans fards and whatnot....but the fact that it wasn't a conscious decision whatsoever bugged me a little bit.

This morning I arrived at work only to realize I remembered the cloth sleeve for my ice pack, but no ice pack.  That is infinitely more infuriating than just forgetting the whole shebang.  But, ice pack or not, my shoulder/arm/neck still hurts.  So, I grabbed one of those cooler ice pack thingys out of the freezer in our office and leaned up against that.  One problem...those things sweat as they get warmer.

Lookin' good Julius, lookin' good.

Blerg

Feelin' kinda grumpy today.  My face looks like someone sewed a worm to it, so that's exciting.  According to the doc, it will calm down and be much less noticeable at some point in the next year.  I guess we'll just keep our sights on the future and pick out a pirate/villian costume to wear.  Constantly.  For the next year.

I'm trying really hard to keep this in perspective.  It was a very small spot of angry skin cells.  The angry skin cells are gone and can cause no more damage.  There aren't any other angry skin cells to evict from the premises.  This could have been much worse.  Like really really much worse.  This is not a big deal.

But the one thing I'll give myself?  It's on my face.  There is a worm on my face.  Right next to my eye.  One of the two eyes people look at when they interact with me.  Although the pirate/villian attire just may lessen any interpersonal activity.

Gimme 15 Minutes

"So you need a home policy and a car policy?  How about we bundle in some life insurance too for some great savings!"

Sunday Treat

Any guesses as to what kind of treat we stopped for on the way home from getting the dog from the kennel?

I'll give you a hint.  It rhymes with "shmacolate shmice shmeam."

Bus Success!

So, there was no TV this morning and I implemented "bus toys."  What is a bus toy?  So happy you asked.  It is a small surprise toy that Alex is allowed to have if and only if he gets on the bus.  I pack it and if he gets on the bus, he gets to open his backpack and see what I packed for him.

Today's surprise toys were two of his HotWheels with googly eyes stuck to them.  I wrapped them up in alien wrapping paper and stuck them in his bag.

When I woke him up this morning, he began his list of reasons why he couldn't go to school today, so I quickly reminded him of the bus toys.  He paused and asked if he still got the toys if we took the car.  Ummmm...yeah, no.  They are called "bus toys" for a reason ya spaz.  And when I told him that the only way he was going to get to find out what the toys were was if he got his butt on that bus, he was suddenly wide awake and chomping at the bit for the bus to get there.

I may have just set myself up for a very expensive and high expectation school bus riding year, but hopefully we will just need this crutch to get us over this reality check hump.

True Love

Last night, I noticed a rivet had fallen out of one of our knives and mentioned it to Travis.  That is when he pointed out we got our knife set for our wedding and we came to the realization that we have been married for 9&1/2 years.

And that is when I said (engage sarcasm font), "Wow, honey.  Our years of marriage have gone by in the blink of an eye....but one of those long, slow, painful blinks...like when you have sand in your eye."

He's such a lucky guy!

I DO love him!

So here's the thing.  I like babies.  They're cute and all.  But I don't particularly like infants.  I'm talking less than about 3 months old.  I mean, I loved Sam right away and all, but holy man once he started actually responding to me and for real smiling at me, I totally found mysefl saying, "Oh man, I really do love you!"

I honestly don't know that I told him I loved until about a couple weeks ago.  I realize it doesn't really matter since I could be telling him he's a boob-faced monkey and as long as I had a smile on my face while I said it, he would smile back at me like an idiot, but still.

I also realize that he is still technically an infant, but I feel like there should be subsets that categorize infants when they are just blobs that don't do anything other than eat, sleep, poop, and cry, to when they can walk and talk and stuff.

Like there should be infant-infants, baby-infants, baby, toddler, monster that has taken over my life.  Although that last one could pretty much be applied to all ages from conception on.

 I guess my point in this is that infant-infants, quite frankly, kinda suck.  But babies sure are cute.

Change is hard.

Now that Alex is on his second week of Kindergarten and the reality of this change sticking around has set in, he is decidedly not excited about going to school.  He is not ready for school.  He is getting a cold.  The bus won't get him there in time because it drops off the big kids at the middle school first.  His arms feel funny.  He doesn't get any food at school.  Some mysterious boys yelled at him but he doesn't remember why or what their names were.  He doesn't waaaaaaaaaaaaant to.

Yesterday morning was a complete shit show.  We woke up on time and all was great until the bus was early.  Now, I know the little handy handbook for Kindergarten tells us to be at the bus stop five minutes early.  And I realize the bus was only four minutes early.  But shit.  Yeah, we missed the bus.  But not before I ran out the door with Alex's backpack, waving my arms like a lunatic trying to catch the driver's attention.  He didn't see me.  Ya know who did see me?  My super tall, skinny, pretty neighbor who managed to get her two kids to the bus stop in time.  Awesome.

So I had to drive Alex to school.  Drop off at school is a big turnaround driveway and when you get there you pull all the way to the front, and a teacher comes and escorts your child to the sidewalk.  Or, like in our case yesterday, said teacher has to have a different teacher hold her coffee so she can physically pry your child from your car while he is bawling and screaming that he wants you.  Super duper.

And then today.  Today.  We were ALL at the bus stop.  Alex, Travis, Sam, Aiden, and me.  Because that is how King Alex requested his departure.  But as soon as we got to the bus stop, he wasn't ready to go.  And the crying started.  The bus driver assured me he would be fine.  Yes, super nice (and once again early I would like to add) bus driver, I  know he will be fine.  The problem is that he doesn't know he will be fine.  And then Travis put the nail in the bus riding coffin when he said out loud, "I'll just drop him off."  Well then there was no way that kid was getting on the bus.  And shockingly, it ended up being me that had to drop him off.

Any guesses as to how today's drop off went?  Well, if you said the same as yesterday, you would be 99% correct.  Only difference was that there was no second teacher to hold the coffee, so I had to wait for the teacher to grab her coffee off my hood while trying to stop my screaming child from clamoring back into my car.

Yeah, I cried a lot too.  Kindergarten is fun!

Sure, why not?

Since this arm/back/shoulder thing has emerged, I am pretty close to useless at home.  I'm not allowed to lift anything other than Sam and I'm only allowed to do that at the bare minimum.  Mostly because that child is huge.  The doctor asked how old he was, and when I said 3&1/2 months, he replied, "Oh, ok.  So he's still pretty light."  And that's when I had to admit my child is a beast.  He is close to 15lbs.  At 3&1/2 months.  Doctor's response?  "Oh!  So....he's not that light."

In light of all of this, Travis has been getting up with Sam at night.  The sweet baby is down to only waking up once at night, which is super awesome, but is still tiring.  And we found out that maybe just maybe Travis wasn't fully recognizing how exhausing it is to not be able to sleep all night because you are getting up every four hours to feed a baby like I have been doing for the past three and a half months.  On Friday, after getting up once a night for three nights in a row, he called me to let me know he was putting off two of his stops until Saturday when I was going to be at my parents' with the boys, because he was so tired and he needed to go home and take a nap.  Now I really appreciate him stepping up to help since I am hurt.  And he really really has.  But maybe don't be such a baby about getting up at night.  Or at least phrase it in some way that acknowledges the fact that he hasn't had to do a single night feeding since this kid was born.  Moving on.

On Saturday my arm felt really good, so I got up to feed Sam.  Now, I was told one of the medications I'm on sometimes makes people feel a little goofy so I should be aware and careful.  Good good.  So, I get up to feed Sam.  I grab a bottle, open the formula container dohickey that has the formula premeasured, dump it in the bottle, and shake it like crazy.  I sit down with Sam and start feeding him.  And he's acting kinda funny, so I look down and think, "Huh...I wonder why it looks so dark in the bottle.  Am I crazy or does it normally look...whiter?"  It takes me a couple minutes, but I finally unsuction the bottle from my baby velociraptor and look at it.  Yeah.  It's just water.  Apparently the section of the formula dispenser I chose was empty.  But in my sleep/medicated state, I "dumped" it into the bottle and shook it like a polaroid picture like normal.  And then fed my 3&1/2 month old straight water.  'Cause if they tell ya anything, it's that infants really really like straight water.  They're super good at digesting it.

Falling apart

I am physically falling apart.  On Labor Day, I ended up in urgent care because of crazy intense pain in the back of my left arm and half of my left hand being numb.  A while back, I fell asleep in a chair with Sam and when I woke up, I was all, "Huh...I guess I have a pinched nerve or somthing."  It didn't hurt, but my pinky and ring finger on my left hand were tingly.  And they stayed that way off and on the past two months.  Now we're back to Labor Day.  Yeah...not just the tinglies anymore.  So. Much. Pain.  The urgent care doc feels around in my back/shoulder and determines I have a big ol' knot in my back that is pushing on a nerve.  I know of said knot, so this makes sense.  She prescribes pain patches to put on my back and some muscle relaxers.  Sounds 'bout right.  Until none of that is doing anything and I am spending more time moaning in pain while holding my arm than any other activity.

So back to the doc I go on Thursday, and after he pushes on my head a couple times while I summon every bit of strength I have not to punch him in the face, he determines we might be dealing with a bulging disc that is pushing on a nerve.  Lamesauce.  So he prescribes a myriad of other medication, takes me off the pain patches and muscle relaxers, and sends me to physical therapy.  Physical therapist pokes and prods around and sends me home with directions on how to sleep with, no joke, an arrangement of 6 different pillows, and an at home, over the door, neck traction kit.  What does that look like you ask?  I'm so glad you asked.  I cannot not share the hotness of this thing I have to load myself into.


What's that behind the lovely model in a "head halter?"  Why that's the water bag you fill up with different amounts of water to attain the proper poundage to pull your head off your body.  Do you think the bangs and perm will help with a speedy recovery?

I do have to admit that when the physical therapist pulled my head up to simulate what the traction kit will do, it felt amazing and I asked him to do that forever.  Alas, as soon as he let go, the pain came back and, FUN STUFF, was worse.  And that's when he reminded me that the pain is most likely going to get worse again before it gets better.  That we have to focus on the furthest symptom, the numbness, first and we will "accept some complaining of the muscles closer to the source."  Ummmm...I don't remember signing on to accept any complaining.  That complaining had stopped before you went all Dr. Frankenstein on me.  Can you tell the pain is back today?  Back with a vengeance.  Like I swear this pain took some lessons from Bruce Willis or some shit.

Aaaaanyway, so I gots this shoulder/back/arm thing goin' on and I have to have some stupid yucky Basal Cell skin cells scraped off of my face on Friday.  So when the physical therapist told me he wants to see me again either Thursday or Friday, I had to tell him that it had to be Thursday because I am having a MOHS surgery on Friday.  He just kinda looked at me funny, so I said, "Yeah, I'm a hot mess right now and have a lot goin' on.  I'll see ya on Thursday!"  And I didn't even bring up that I wouldn't be able to see him next Tuesday if needed, because I have an ultrasound to keep an eye on some cyst we found when I was knocked up.  I'll say it again.  Hot. Mess.

And all of this was truly driven home when I had to call the dermatologist to make sure I can stay on the three different medications I'm on for my back and still have the MOHS dealimabobber on Friday.

I take 7 pills every morning.  I am 36 years old.  This is ridiculous.

Shit...literally

Even if you have a pinched nerve in your back that is forcing you to lay still on the couch or in bed with an ice pack on one specific spot on your back while taking enough ibuprofen to knock out an elephant...even if you are dealing with that?  You should let your dog out when she scratches at the door.  You shouldn't say to the dog, "You were just out 20 minutes ago.  There is no possible way you need to go out again."  That is not advised.  Why?  Because when you don't get up and risk substantial nauseating pain, the dog delicately places 8 different piles of diarrhea on the carpet in your son's playroom.

Aaaand he's off!

Today was the day.  The first day of Kindergarten.  Ya think Alex was excited?

Little jerk didn't even look back to wave good-bye!

I only cried a little bit.

Back to School Night

I think he's gonna get really good grades...

Settin' My Sights on the Big Top

There is no amount of psyching yourself up that can prepare you for the intense pain of waxing your upper lip.  I need to live somewhere that mustachioed women are held in high esteem.  That or join the circus.  They still have the bearded lady booth?

We'll blame the sleepiness

I bought a calendar the other day.  Yes, I realize it's almost September, but after the wind blew the zillion different paper schedules off the fridge for the 12th time in a week, I decided consolidating schedules was necessary.  That and I want to start writing down my workouts.  Kinda like a gold star visual aid.  And I've decided I want to do each level of the 30 Day Shred 10 times and I want to complete it by the end of October.  Since I can't remember what day it is more often than not, there is no way I'm going to be able to keep track of how many times I have done each level.  Short story long, a calendar was needed.  So, I got a fancy dry erase calendar and wrote down the recent workouts, all of Alex's remaining field trips, and our known plans.  Good good.

Yesterday, I woke up with a slight panic that Alex had a field trip requiring me to pack a lunch.  To the trusty calendar!  My heart settled upon seeing that field trip was the next day so I had time to get the grocery shopping done that would include stuff for a proper bag lunch.  But then I noticed my faithful calendar said that yesterday was the 25th and I swore Monday was the 25th.  So I checked my phone and sure enough, it was the 26th.  So what gives?  Yeeeeahhhhh, I bought me a 2015 calendar.  Awesome.  So now I had to get the boys to day care, get to the grocery store, make his lunch, and have said lunch back at daycare by 8:15.  It was 7:45 when I realized my calendar error.

I got Sam all settled in his room and then took Alex to his room and asked what he wanted in his lunch.  PB&J, cucumbers, red pepper, and a juice box.  I had the stuff for the PB&J and I had a cucumber, although I had no clue if that cucumber was in any sort of edible state.  I didn't think I had a red pepper and I was positive Alex had consumed all of the juice boxes we had.  I knew this because every single day he asks if he can have one so he can have the "breathing tube" from it.  Now, the common man would call that a straw, but potato potahto.

Since I was on a tight time table, I had to go to the smallish grocery store close to our house.  The Piggly Wiggly.  I don't frequent this store as it is way more expensive than the giant store we normally go to, and the selection is quite limited.  But it works in a pinch and a pinch I was in.  I speed walked in and headed straight to the produce section.  No red peppers.  Only English cucumbers.  I could make do with the English cucumber since I was planning on peeling it and cutting it into sticks any way.  But the no red pepper was cause for alarm.  Then I saw a man stocking the bagged lettuce mix and figured I could ask if maybe possibly there were any peppers in the back that just hadn't hit the shelves yet.  I couldn't tell if the lettuce stocking dude worked for the grocery store or for the bagged lettuce company, so my intention was to first ask him if he worked at the store.  But what came out of my mouth was, "Hey...are you a Piggly person?"

...

Are you a Piggly person.  What.  I actually spoke those words to an adult.

After a painful pause during which I could feel my facial expression go directly to "I give up," he informed me that yes, he did work there.  Apparently the produce delivery was late that morning, but the very nice man directed me to the organic section that had some red peppers.  Crisis embarrassingly averted.

Oh!  And when I got home, I found a red pepper in the refrigerator.

Pre-bedtime chat

"Great...now what is this...wait...is this...is this poop on the bath mat?"
"Yep."
"....why...why is there poop on the bath mat?"
"Because I shaked my booty when I got of the toilet to get the poop off."

Is this the new way to clean yourself after pooping?  Am I missing out?  Is toilet paper obsolete?  Maybe he knows how to use the three sea shells.

Still Got It

He's holding on to his rapidly disappearing youth with all his strength!

Almost time

Pictured above is the giant pile of school supplies Alex is required to bring with him to Kindergarten.  Also known as a giant pile of Mama's heart breaking.  He is starting Kindergarten.  In 12 days.  I just cannot believe it.

I know he's ready.  I know he's gonna love it.  I know it's inevitable.  I know I know I know.  But, wow, I am not ready for this.  I just cannot believe in 12 days I will be standing out on the sidewalk, waving good-bye to the school bus taking him to his first day of school.

I just feel so afraid.  All typical fears I'm pretty sure.  But knowing they're typical doesn't make them any easier to swallow.  I'm sure some day this chest crushing anxiety will subside, but today?  Today I'm having a hard time breathing.

He did tell me the other day that he is going to live with me forever, so I've got that going for me.

Hello!