Responsibilities

I turned the TV on for Alex last night so he could watch a show.  When the show was over and dinner was done, I told him to turn the TV off.  And that is when he said, "But you're the one that turned it on!"  And when Travis immediately told him that was a bad idea, he said, "But the person that turned it on is responsible for turning it off!"

Now, I get where he's coming from here, but this child needs to learn the correct time and situation to apply his knowledge...before he gets himself in some big trouble.

Damn.

Welp, for someone who was just complaining this morning about being large as a barge, that ENTIRE SLEEVE of Thin Mint cookies sure was easy for me to mindlessly devour.

Smart without the ass

There was a helicopter flying kinda low over the road yesterday, and I pointed it out to Alex since he loves anything car, truck, plane, helicopter, construction vehicle.  He watched it disappear into the distance and quietly said, "Man his rotors sure are workin' hard today!"  Once again his little brain amazes me.

Dolla Dolla Bills Y'All

As I mentioned before, Alex is having a little bit of a bumpy week this week.  Yesterday I got a call from day care asking if he had said anything about not feeling good before I dropped him off.  He hadn't, but I knew what was going on.  He has started claiming he's not feeling well and needs to stay home.  I'm pretty sure the novelty of moving and 4K and all the changes along with those things has worn off, and he's a little off kilter.  He is also Star of the Week this week at day care and he just does not do well with that.  I guess he can't handle the pressure.  Wimp.

This morning we added big ol' pile of soggy straw the anxiety camel's back when we said good-bye to Bert.  Today's the day.  Bert and Harley are moving back to California.  This is not a happy turn of events.  I mean, I  suppose it's good for Bert...what with getting a promotion, getting out of the Polar Vortex that has become the Midwest, and getting back to Carlo.  Blah, blah, positive life changes, blah.  Whatever.

Bert and Harley spent the night at our house last night and were with this morning when I dropped Alex off.  Alex said good-bye, started climbing out of the truck, and then asked if he could say good-bye again while climbing back in.  When he got out, he looked up at me almost in shock and said, "But Mom, I'm really going to miss them!  I'm going to miss them because we aren't going to see them for a REALLY LONG TIME."  Soooo, the reality that we won't be seeing them almost every day has finally hit my little man.

Not long after I got to work, I got another call from day care.  The director, who has been part of Alex's life since he was 8 weeks old, called to let me know she had a talk with Alex because he seemed off and she asked him what was going on this week.  He told her he was very sad because Bert was leaving.  She explained that we could always talk to him whenever we wanted and that we will be able to talk to him on the computer.  That seemed to help, but she just wanted to let me know about their little chat.

I know he's going to be fine.  I know it's ok for him to be sad, and it is good for him to learn how to deal with and process his emotions and all that junk.  But all I want to do is quit my job and go scoop him up and snuggle him forever so nothing can hurt his little feelers EVER.

So, I sent his 4K teacher an email checking on his behavior there this week, and giving her a heads up about us having to say good-bye to Bert and Harley.  She replied thanking me for letting her know and passed on a little nugget that made her smile.  Apparently Alex had money in his pocket on Tuesday.  And when she asked him where he got said money, he let her know he got it from working and proceeded to list four jobs he did that he got paid for.  I have no clue where that money came from, but I can guarantee it most definitely did not come from anything resembling work.

Rested.

Are you wondering what exactly it is that you are looking at?  Well, you can join me in contemplation while I determine if this is honestly the reality I signed up for.

The evening took a turn down Total Shit Avenue as soon as I picked Alex up from day care.  He had a bit of a rough day, which would have been fine, except instead of talking to his teacher and me about it for 90 seconds, he went into full-on toddler meltdown mode.  This resulted in me carrying him to the car while he was screaming at me.  That resulted in me yelling at him and then carrying him to his room immediately upon arrival home.  All of that carrying of a screaming 50lb child resulted in my already sore sciatic nerve kicking into overdrive in the pain department.  Fun!

I'm getting to the drawing; I swear.

Alex managed to turn it around and have a good rest of the night.  At bed time, he asked if he could try sleeping without an UnderJam.  We have been trying no UnderJam nights every once in a while with the same pee soaked result, but I don't want to discourage him if he wants to try, so I obliged.  Before falling asleep, Travis and I bet on what time Alex would be in our room telling me he peed in his bed.  I said 3am.

I fell asleep around 10ish.  And between 10pm and 2am, the lovely, favorite-animal-I've-ever-encountered dog, got up, walked around the house, and then pawed at me until I held up the covers for her to jump back up and snuggle in, FOUR TIMES.  Because, why wouldn't she need to patrol the house every hour?  I also had a keen awareness of the clock because I could not get into a position that would ease the sciatic nerve pain in my butt cheek.  Except for laying flat on my back, which I'm not supposed to do whilst growing a baby because it puts pressure on some important blood vessel or something all sciency.

The reason I know this little safety patrol ended at 2 is because that is when Mr. Alex came into our room, completely naked, to tell me that he peed in his bed.  I was an hour over.  So, I let him in bed, went and got an UnderJam because we are not trying any sort of nighttime potty training on my memory foam mattress topper, climbed in bed next to him, held the comforter up so the dog could climb in, and laid down.  Ipso facto, the diagram above.  THAT is how I was trying to sleep.

I was willing to put up with the contorted position and the snoring from BOTH boys, but one big stretch by Alex ending with his elbow saying goodnight to my nose quickly made the couch a much more appealing option.

Ummmm...

25 weeks.  Yes, that is an expression of shock and concern.  I was going to take a bare belly picture, but I almost fell over from shock upon peering into the looking glass, and figured nobody needs to fall out of their chair today.  I feel things aren't going to be pretty in 15 weeks.

Try, try again

After tasting golden cantaloupe:

Mom! Turns out I love cantaloaf!