First, go read this....you definitely have to read this to pick up what I'm about to put down.....
Please excuse this next part....I was having a moment....
MY KIDS STILL DON'T KNOW THEIR ADDRESS....WHAT THE HELL AM I DOING WRONG AROUND HERE.
YOU MEAN TO TELL ME A FREAKIN' BIRD IS SMARTER THAN MY KIDS!?!?!?
COME ON. THEIR BRAIN IS SMALLER THAN A PEA!
Okeedokie....I'm over it now.
Thanks.
The weather around these here parts was quite delightful Saturday. It must've been 'cause Big Daddy was working up a storm....which doesn't happen round here too often. (yea, yea...he does do SOME things...but he was all about tearing it up Saturday)
So I thought I would share some pics of our afternoon.......
Notice the duct tape on the blower....told ya it can fix anything!
Work hard.....play hard!
This came in through email, and thought I would share:
A STUNNING SENIOR MOMENT
A very self-important university freshman from Ottawa
University took it upon himself to explain to a senior citizen
standing next to him while waiting for a bus, that it was
impossible for the older generation to understand his
generation.
"You grew up in a different world, actually an almost
primitive one," the student said, loud enough for the other
passengers nearby to hear.
"The young people of today grew up with television,
jet planes, space travel, man walking on the moon, our
spaceships have visited Mars. We have nuclear energy, electric
and hydrogen cars, computers with light-speed processing and ."
Pausing for breath, the Senior took advantage of the break
in the student's litany and said:
"You're right, son. We didn't have those things when
we were young ... so we invented them.
Now, you arrogant little shit, what are you doing for the next
generation?"
The applause was resounding...
Don't you just love senior citizens.
The best part about this little story.....the seniors were taking the BUS! And that's the way I like 'em....off the road!
Not much happening around these parts...just the norm.
Oh...don't know what the norm is....let me fill you in....at least the last 12 hours or so......
We got home around 6pm. Almost immediately J Boy grabs a kitchen chair and pulls it over to the high shelf that contains all the sort of things we try to keep up out of his reach. He climbs up and reaches for Big Daddy's chap-stick. What does he do with this you may ask? Well, he eats it...that's what. And because I have read, and re-read the label along with Googling it's contents, I know NOT to call poison control about this.
Moving on...it's dinner time. We eat...they scream...we force them to eat...they scream more...that about sums up that.
On to bath time. The kids USED to take a bath together, for convenience sake, but since the water acts as a laxative for J Boy's body, we have ceased this practice for health reasons...besides, J Girl refuses to get in the bath with him anymore after that one awful incident. So they bathe separate....although whomever went first waits by the side of the tub while enduring repeated screams from the washing parent that falling BACK into the tub would DEFINITELY not be in their best interest.
Right about now, I have a few loads of wash going, cleaning the carpet by the back door that the dog decided looked a little like grass some time today, dinner dishes to do, clean clothes to put away and a freakin' mess of playdoh to pick up.
By this time, it's about 8pm. Bed! J Boy goes down without much of a fuss....as long as he has his juice, Bink, 3 babies and maybe a car for good measure. BUT, we endured countless hours of pure, unadulterated hell trying to get J Girl to go sleep......she outlasted us both. I think I rolled over a little before 11:30pm to find her watching Everybody Loves Raymond. Where was Big Daddy? You see, earlier she conned him into laying in her bed, "just fer a wittle while"......he fell asleep almost immediately.....she didn't......and out she comes into our bed......leaving Big Daddy in her bed.......alone........without the person who begged him to stay! Though this I have to laugh at...talk about having him wrapped!
This morning.....since a good amount happens within a small span of time, I will just give you the Stinky Notes (kinda like Cliff Notes, with a twist).
We get up, I take a shower and get dressed. I make the kids breakfast, sit them down and go dry my hair. EAT YOUR BREAKFAST CAUSE I"M NOT MAKING ANYMORE...AND QUIT FEEDING THE GOD DAMN DOG!, and continue to finish my hair. I pack their lunches, gather their clothes and dress them. We all head into the bathroom to brush out teeth, YOU HAVE TO USE THE YELLOW ONE SINCE YOU USED THE GREEN ONE ON THE DOG! and head out the door. NO, I DON'T KNOW WHERE THE HARMONICA IS SO YOU WILL HAVE TO CALL THE BIRDS LATER! I put the kids in their car seat, buckle them in (yea, I remembered that this morning), run back in the house for my forgotten phone, get back into the car, head back into the house for the diapers I forgot to put in their bag, and drop the kids off at the sitters. Then my work day begins. Hallelujah!
So you see, not much going on around here....just the norm.
Over there ----------------> at Burghbaby I was reminded, and ever so eloquently I might add, about something I wanted to talk about. Feminism. Although not the type of feminism where we should start picketing the white house just yet. The type I am referring to is, what I like to so ever lovingly call, Femtoofoofooboyism.
Got that?
The definition of femtoofoofooboyism is as follows (and believe me, you will never find this in no stinkin' Wikipedia): the art of the male species getting in touch with their feminine side by playing with socially accepted "girl" objects. Does that clear things up for you?
If not, then read on. Said "boy" enjoys the occasional doll play. At times, you may find him pushing a baby in the swing, feeding baby in the highchair, or taking baby for a walk in the stroller. Other days you will catch a glimpse of him burping baby and patting precious baby on the back as he hoists her up on his shoulder.
All this seems well and good, and perfectly normal according to the definition of femtoofoofooboyism.
But, when you throw a curve ball in there, everything that seemed "normal" goes out the window.
Take for instance sleeping with said baby. Now sleeping you think is perfectly normal, right? But how about sleeping with two babies...or three....cause that is what we have going on here. Big pimpin'? Maybe?
Now that we got that all cleared up....does your boy fall under the femtoofoofooboyism or is it just mine...which is fine....but I would like to know now.....so I can prepare for when the kid wants to take tap lessons and wear a tutu. Or, at the very least, prepare his father.
My kids love music....from the time they were very tiny. But lately, their music tastes have become a bit obscured.
Warning: Not for the weak of heart....the boy will crank it up and drag you into the mosh pit and someone is bound to get hurt.
I'll tell you...... 2 sucks! I don't know if it is just boys at 2 or what, but this boy definitely blows my mind.
Tantrums top the list. He can go from giggly, goo goo ga ga Mommy I love you to full blown tantrum in .06 seconds. Sometimes the tantrum has an obvious reason, like a lost toy, and sometimes they come from no where. And let me make this clear...this is no little tantrum...these are full blown kicking and screaming, throw yourself on the floor wailing tantrums.
Moving onto the attitude. My boy is very loving....cuddling with Mommy is something he does every night. But so is hitting. He will hit me when he says hi, or when he is waving bye, or just to slap me in the butt. I'm not kidding, the kid is obsessed with my butt. I have received more pats than a good football player by his coach. He will hit the dog, his sister, the girl next door. If his hand can reach, he will hit.
Food. J Boy has always had a love affair with food. As an infant he went from formula to chicken legs. He will eat everything in front of him, plus his sister's. BUT, he also likes to watch the dog wear it, or the wall or smear it into pictures on the table. He will throw his fork, "drop" his plate, by accident of course, or pour his juice that he insists on drinking from a big boy cup all over his dinner.
And finally....potty training. This one is something I have battled with for quite some time. See, I'm a female...my first child was also of this origin....as you can see I don't have much knowledge on how to work the, um, well, "male" parts. But, I also was relieved to know I still had some time to convince his father to do it research this problem. Much to my dismay, this child has other ideas. He "shows" me he is ready everyday by stripping himself of all clothing, including diaper, and peeing on the bathroom floor. Or the kitchen floor, living room floor, playroom floor, grass, or wherever it starts to stream. I hate to admit it, and I never will if questioned by the authorities, so don't try it. And never tell anyone. If that's not possible cause you suck at secrets, then just never, never name names. Here goes..........
I have, on occasion, may have used a teeny tiny little itty bitty piece of duct tape to cover the taps of the diaper so little prying hands can't take it off.
There, it's out....I feel much better now. But this does not, in any way, solve the problem with 2.
Does One Step Ahead sell a bubble I can keep the boy in for the next year or so? Going to check it out now....and if not....wait a while....cause you just might see one with a little light bulb picture next to it signifying "parent invented"......BY ME!
