Conversations with a 2 1/2 year old...

Early Saturday morning, somewhere in the MidWest...

Boy: "OH NO! My pancakes!!"

Me: "What pancakes? We don't have any pancakes."

Boy: "My pancakes!!"

Me: "The last time we got pancakes, you wouldn't eat them."

Boy: "Oh noooooooo!!! My pancakes!!!"

Me: "We don't have any pancakes. How 'bout a banana?"

Boy: "Okay, I have pancakes." (as he lifts his shirt and walks out of the room)

FAVE FOTO FRIDAY!

The boy, disovering that you can pull the grass out of the ground in the backyard, taken 09/09/06.

I'm often awestruck when I look at him, because even after almost 3 years, I find it hard to believe that I'm a part of something so amazing...

Movie of your life

Not surprising, really...

The Movie Of Your Life Is A Cult Classic

Quirky, offbeat, and even a little campy - your life appeals to a select few.But if someone's obsessed with you, look out! Your fans are downright freaky. Your best movie matches: Office Space, Showgirls, The Big Lebowski

If Your Life Was a Movie, What Genre Would It Be?

I actually pushed past my fear of being attacked (I say that so it comes across jokingly, but I'm not kidding... I rarely take him to the park on my own because I'm afraid someone will jump us and try to take off with him, and I won't be strong enough to stop them... how sad is that...) and took the boy to the park tonight after the husband left for school. It was an absolutely gorgeous day here in Ohio. One of those perfect days - temperature in the low 70's with a breeze, crystal blue sky dotted with fluffy clouds, like the opening shots from 'The Simpsons'. Just wonderful.




For some reason, his tongue is constantly out right now, pressed against his upper lip. It's cute, don't get me wrong, but I'm worried that his little lips are horribly chapped by this, and when I try to put some Burt's Bee's lip balm on him, all he wants to do is lick the tube... yuck.




We met a little girl and her father there. Kelli ("WITH A I, NOT A Y!!" Kelli talked like she were speaking in all capital letters.)was about a year older than the boy, and spoke of herself in the third person. "COME HERE LITTLE BOY, KELLI WANTS TO GO DOWN THE SLIDE WITH YOU!" It was a little odd.



He didn't seem to mind the fact that KELLI WITH A I was bossing him around, until she started poking him. When that started, he stared at her for a second, then said 'Nope!' and went down the slide. That's my boy!



Now we're home to have pizza for supper, because that's what he said he wanted. He's going through a little thing right now - there are times when he'll go for 3-4 days without eating hardly a thing, yet it doesn't seem to affect him. We're in the middle of one of those spells right now, so if pizza is something he'll actually eat, then by all means, pizza it is.

Fave Foto Friday

I am late to the game today, because I'm just now getting home from having dinner and hanging out with a friend after work. I LOVE Pax's idea of Fave Foto Friday and had to participate in this one!!

My favorite is a picture of my best friend and me, from our Senior year in high school. I'm on the left. In one click, the photographer managed to capture the essence of our friendship.

Wow... I think my brain actually hurts... not just a headache, but my actual brain feels fatigued. I've been working on a proposal for my job, that I'll be presenting to our management team sometime in the next few weeks. If it's successful, we'll all be issued laptop computers between now and the first quarter of next year that will enable us to work from home more often. If it's successful, these redneck yahoos I work with need to worship me like a goddess, because not one single one of them has done jack-diddly to help with this.

Lazy bastards.

Could it be? Who knows...

This just may be the magic key we've been looking for to get the potty training ball rolling. What did parent do before Elmo, I ask you? And what makes it even better is the fact that the potty they show Elmo using is EXACTLY the same potty that the boy has. HALLELUJAH!!! We watched this for the first time yesterday afternoon, Mommy, Daddy and the boy all in the living room together, in front of the tv, as a family. I even brought his potty into the room with us. After seeing Elmo on the potty, the boy ran to his, lifted the lid, and sat down (pants still on, but it's a start). He stayed there through the entire 45 minute show. He got up when it was over, and he was totally soaked, so hey, maybe he's starting to get the idea.

I both love and hate the fact that my life right now seems to be evolving around something like this. That I'm so excited by the fact that he just ran in the room and said to me 'Elmo has a potty! He goes pee pee!'... I just don't know how to feel about that.

A little... Eww, who likes to talk about pee and poo?

A little sad, because he's growing up so quickly... which leads into

... irritated, because I'm missing so much of it, because I have to drag myself everyday into a job that I just CANNOT stand right now, while the husband stays home and does seemingly very little around here (Were it not for the fact that the husband has put NO EFFORT WHATSOEVER into trying to potty train the boy, we'd probably be through it by now. But don't get me started on that. Yes, I'll be the first to admit that I'm completely jealous of the fact that he's home everyday with the boy, and experiencing all these wonderful things with him, and believe-you-me he knows I feel this way...).

Who in the world would've ever thought that all that would come from a simple DVD on potty training?

Here's a new one for you, Mou!

WELL BUTTER MY BUTT AND CALL ME A BISCUIT!

Show of hands, how many of us have been wanting to say the same thing for a while now?

Thanks to Pax for sharing this. It is so good, I had to post it here as well. The video is about 8 minutes long, but worth every second.

Mou, this one's for you...

While on vacation last week, I caught the 1996 made-for-tv movie version of Shirley Jackson's incredible short-story, 'The Lottery'. I still vividly remember reading this story for the first time in my sophomore-year English class. What a punch that story packs! As you can imagine, when I read that this movie version starred Dan Cortese and Keri Russell, I was a little skeptical, but I watched anyway.

In the interest of stretching the story into a 2-hour movie (including frequent commercial breaks, mind-you), they beefed up the plot some. Dan Cortese returns the the small town that is the home of the lottery, to bury the ashes of his recently-deceased father at the grave of his mother who is buried there. As he checks-in at the local bed-n-breakfast, in walks Keri Russell, whose parents run the place. One look at each other and the Davey Jones-esque stars start sparkling in their eyes. Love at first sight, except for one small problem. Well, two small problems. The local deputy sheriff also has his eyes on the fair-Keri, and Dan, being no dummy, has figured out quickly that there's something not quite right about this place. When the deputy gets wind of the blossoming romance between Dan and the fair-Keri, it's obvious that he needs to run this troublemaker out of town as quickly as possible. As Dan and the deputy square off in one very exciting, testosterone-driven scene (mind you, the deputy has just set Dan's car on fire, so Dan is a little peeved), Dan puffs out his chest and says to the deputy...

"I'M ABOUT TO STOMP A MUD HOLE IN YOU!"

Canada Geese 1 - Father-in-law 0

We paid the obligatory weekend visit to the in-laws yesterday. They're leaving at the end of this week for a month's stay at one of their time-share places in Florida, a welcome break for all involved.

I don't know about other places, but here in an around Dayton, OH, we are invaded every year by hoards of Canada geese. They're beautiful creatures... from a distance. Up close, they're nothing but a pain in the ass, hissing and spitting if you get too close to their nest, and pooping ALL OVER the place. The complex of condos where the in-laws live includes a small pond, which the geese love. Over the years, my father-in-law has made every effort to get rid of the geese... a series of ropes strung back-and-forth across the pond to create a kind of web that would stop the geese from landing there... a plastic alligator head, weighted just-so so that it would float menacingly around the pond with just its eyes and snout poking up from the surface of the water... a remote-control speed boat to chase the geese from the pond... and this year (my favorite, by-far, because of its simplicity!), two boards that he bangs together while he runs at the pond, yelling at the top of his lungs.

Did I also mention that he's the president of the condo association?

So yesterday, the father-in-law, the husband, and my precious little son go out for a walk. My mother-in-law and I sat on their patio, enjoying the nice day and talking. I think we're bonding in a strange way, but that's for another post. We heard the men return from their constitutional, and went inside to greet them. Only my husband was in the room. As I looked around for my son, I noticed an odd-looking trail of footprints on my in-law's pale beige carpet. Small, dark footprints that went this way and that.

Yes, lo-and-behold, the small one had, unbeknownst to anyone, tracked something in on the bottom of one of his shoes.

Upon further inspection, I discovered that, yes, it was in fact a big old goose turd. I was mortified, yet overwhelmingly amused at the same time. I managed not to laugh, though, until my husband said 'Ah, the geese are FINALLY getting their revenge on you!'

I don't think my father-in-law appreciated the humor of the situation.

And, to top it all off, I think I'm coming down with the cold that the boy had earlier in the week...

All good things must come to an end

Alas... my vacation is over (remember - Saturday and Sunday don't really count, since I'd have those days off regardless). I have accomplished absolutely nothing this week; my house is still the national disaster it was this time last week. I haven't cleaned and organized the closets. I haven't gone through the boy's toys and gotten rid of the things he no longer plays with, nor have I gone through his clothes and sorted out the things he can no longer wear. I haven't blogged as much as I wanted to. I haven't read the books I checked out from the library. I've not been sleeping well, so I don't feel at all rested, and I'm already dreading going back to work on Monday.

Ugh.

Now it will be February of 2007 before I can take an entire week off again, because of the way the Casa de Insurance metes out your vacation a few days each month until you've 'earned' your yearly quota. Socialist bastards.

I'm in a quandary over my friend-from-work JB. Remember her? The one that baled on the Dave Matthews concert back at the beginning of August? In all seriousness, she is deeply, deeply disturbed. She has valid and complicated mental health issues that she kind-of gets help for (ie. she goes to the psychiatrist once a month for the good prescription drugs [which she mixes with large quantities of alcohol], but that's about it). She tried a few days ago, and not for the first time, might I add, to overdose. Thank heavens she has a friend staying with her right now that decided not to go into work Tuesday night, otherwise she'd be gone.

My question is this... at what point do you say to someone 'I'm sorry, but I love you too much to watch you do this to yourself any longer.'? I've known her since I started at the Casa de Insurance 7 years ago. We started getting to be close friends 4 years ago. She's been with me through some pretty rough times: my miscarriage and subsequent diabetes diagnosis, the death of my father (at which time she drove me to the hospital when I got the call that he'd gone into cardiac arrest, held my hand when we went into his room with my minister to say a prayer over him when he was gone). She's been this way the entire time. She knows she's need serious, long-term help, but she refuses to do anything about it. I suppose, deep down, I feel obligated to stick by her because of what she's seen me through, but to be honest, it's getting to be exhausting. But I just don't know what the next step is, or how to handle it once I figure it out.

Some vacation...

Now that I FINALLY have the chance to blog, this is the best I can come up with???

my name...

Your Penis Name Is...

Ivan the Terrible

Penis Name Generator

my husband's name...

Your Penis Name Is...

Fatboy Slim

Penis Name Generator

Two things...

1) I'm VERY impressed with my name, and
2) I will not comment on my husband's name...

Just a cold...

The boy's fever is gone. His temperature was normal Tuesday morning, thank heavens. I did not get much sleep Monday night, choosing instead to lay awake worrying about his termperature spiking to 115 degrees and what if I'm not awake to do anything about it?

The husband, of course, slept through the entire thing.

We're not completely through with it all, though, because there is still a bit of a cough, and lots of snotty sneezing.

Not the relaxing week I'd hoped for, but still better than being at work.

WELL CRAP ON A FUCKING CRACKER!

Of course.

My first real day of vacation... Saturday and Sunday don't truly count, because I would've had those off anyways. And maybe today doesn't really count, since it's a holiday... BUT STILL!!

I'm being punished for taking time off work.

My poor, innocent little son has a temperature of 101.5 degrees. Thankfully, we have not had many fevers to deal with over the course of his short life. The reverse of that is that, when he does have a fever, I start to freak out a little bit (like I'm doing now!).

Last year when I took a whole week off at one time, the husband and I both came down with a God-awful stomach flu at the same time. For two days, the boy had the run of the house.

Now this.

Children's Tylenol has been forced down the throat... we'll do another temperature check in a few hours (which will be a joy for both him AND me, as I'm sure you can imagine!)... please God let this go away without a trip to the doctor.

I left work today at about 4:20 pm, AND I DO NOT HAVE TO RETURN UNTIL 1 WEEK FROM MONDAY.

I'm so happy about this, I could cry.