… that’s Husband’s favorite cereal bowl he’s wearing.
Shhhhh …
Monthly Archives: April 2013
Meow.
Yesterday, Husband showed me something so awesome on the internet that it’s all I’ve been able to think about.
Are you ready? Here it is.
 |
| (source) |
So this morning I googled “cat bathing suit” and found all manner of bathing costumes, including this wolf one:
 |
| (source) |
And so, when my mother came over to pick ONE up for church this morning, what was on my computer screen? This.
 |
| (source) |
Purrrfect.
Saturday.
Here is the man who gives me so much writing material.
The picture above was taken last weekend at my high school reunion. I found out later that he was *told by his boss he couldn’t go, and if he did, he‘d have to find a new job. Husband said, “It would be a lot easier for me to find a new job than to find a new wife.”
So wise.
I love this man. I’m having trouble being nice to him lately because I’m a hormonal mess. But … I LOVE HIM. One day I’ll be back to normal and that will be a welcome change. Right now I would love to snatch the weave out of someone’s head, just for sport. I feel rage-y.
*For the record, his boss was joking. Husband still has a job. But I appreciate what he did for me, and I’ll pay him back for it one day.
Dr. Hobbs.
Maverick (otherwise known as “ONE”) has been full of interesting thoughts this week.
****
ONE: “You know, Mommy … penises are a lot like volcanoes. Except pee comes out of them instead of hot lava.”
Me: “Excellent analogy.”
****
The next day …
****
ONE: “You know, Mommy … lips and mouths are a lot like bathtub plugs. They hold the water in our mouths. They also hold bad words in.”
Me: “They sure do.”
ONE: “I know that because I’m four years old and I have a lot of thoughts in my face.”
 |
| In December 2011, right after he received his first “doctor’s kit.” |
My mother predicts that ONE will become a doctor one day because of his extreme interest in the human body. I neither encourage or discourage his fascination. I try to remain matter-of-fact in my reactions and my answers to the never-ending stream of questions.
The thing is … pretty much every day he mashes on my boobs and demands to know if I have milk in them yet. That’s a little much. No, a lot much. So, I decided that while I cannot control what he might think of or ask me, I can help him improve his bedside manner.
Changes.
ONE and TWO are officially sharing a room. It’s bittersweet and very cute. My “baby” is no longer a baby … no more changing table, no more crib. It’s full-on, big boy mode now.
Here is an iPhone camera journey of the past few days:
Right after I took this picture of ONE next to the huge dresser, he pulled all of the drawers out and it tipped forward to fall on him before I pulled a ninja move and pushed it back upright with my body weight.
That was stressful.
That’s an understatement.
 |
| ONE’s bed is on the left, TWO’s is on the right. |
 |
| Unsure what to do with the diapers for TWO, I just arranged them nicely and called it a day. |
 |
| Most of their toys are stored in their closet. I donated a lot of the junky ones … SHHHHHH. |
For now, TWO is still sleeping in the Pack N’ Play. Last night he got out of the “pink bag” he’s been zippered into lately and refused to put it back on. He seems interested in his big bed, but I’m not sure he is ready to sleep in it without freaking out. We‘ll see.
In the meantime, I have shut the door to Pepper’s room and I never want to look at it again.
SO OVERWHELMING.
Wednesday.
I Need An Assistant.
 |
| Here are some of the people who watched me incorrectly eat a tamale. |
I need someone to follow me around and assist me with LIFE, because I seem to be incapable of functioning at full capacity.
Like just now, when I opened our storage closet outside to get a beach ball out and somehow accidentally turned on the air compressor and freaked out and called Husband repeatedly (no answer … GOOD THING I’M NOT IN LABOR) before realizing the mayhem would stop if I just unplugged it from the wall.
Also: the tamale. Before Saturday, I’d never eaten a real tamale before. I don’t know how that’s possible, but it is what it is. I didn’t realize you have to unwrap it from the corn husk before you eat it … I mean … they look just like burritos. So I was eating a lovely lunch this weekend with my fellow alumni and their families when I took a great big bite out of my tamale and discovered too late that the corn husk is not … biteable. And once you bite in, there is no ladylike way to deal with the situation.
Also: the slide. Last week, I tried to be adventurous and take the boys to a park by myself. It was going well until TWO followed his big brother to the very top of the play set, a good 12 feet up in the air, and was standing on the top of a platform looking over the edge like he was thinking about jumping. Bigger kids were running all over the place and I just knew one of them would knock him down and he was going to break something.
I didn’t think any of this through before I climbed up to where he was, squeeeeeeeeeeezed through the opening with my huge belly, and picked him up. The only way down was via slide. So down all three of us went. A little girl was standing at the bottom and I yelled at her “MOVE!!! We can’t stop!” before we landed in a pile. I’m sure it was quite a spectacle, there were people everywhere but I was so stressed out from the ordeal that I was oblivious to the stares.
Never. Again.
In the past few weeks I have: screwed up our bank account, mismanaged multiple situations, called my children by the wrong names, and scheduled the delivery of the boy’s new bedroom furniture for tomorrow … not thinking about the fact that we still haven’t gotten the OLD furniture out yet. A queen-sized bed and huge armoire aren’t going to move themselves. I don’t know what I was thinking, but we have no choice but to press on.
Tonight will be the first night that the boys will share a room — this was unplanned. We still don’t have mattresses for the twin beds that are arriving tomorrow. Until we can procure some, ONE will sleep in the toddler bed that his little brother rejected, and TWO will remain in his Pack N’ Play. Husband will have to disassemble ONE’s old bedroom furniture when he gets home from work, and I have no idea how he will get it out of the house. Good luck to him.
I’m fairly certain from this point on, with the boys sharing a room, no one will be getting enough sleep. I normally do not operate in this helter-skelter kind of way. This is not who I am! Luckily, this weekend my friend Melody brought me something called Natural Calm. You mix it with water. It’s safe for pregnancy and I hope it will help me cope with life, because what I really need is an assistant and some Prozac.
 |
| Please make me calm. |
Making A Difference.
My mom gave me this book yesterday and I haven’t been able to put it down. If you have a son under the age of 18, you should read this book.
I’m finding it particularly helpful because I am not a man so I don’t really understand the maleness of my boys. I know better than to try to squash it, but I don’t really know how to shape it. The world doesn’t need any more sissies or sex addicts, so I encourage all mothers of boys to:
1. Read this book.
2. Don’t shame your sons because their penis is their favorite body part; apparently that is normal. Our job is to teach them how to keep it in their pants.
3. Stop doing things for them that they can do for themselves. STOP IT. You’re screwing up their self-esteem. Let them be little men from the time they are small and build them up to be big men who know how to cope with life.
Clearly I don’t have all the answers — this is why I read self-help books. I just don’t want my daughter to be surrounded by idiots when she grows up. I only have control over the direction of two future men in this world, and they are both yelling at the top of their lungs because they want an ice cream sandwich. So … fingers crossed.
Modern Mommy Madness 