Apparently, I Am O-L-D

Out of nowhere last week Claire says to me, "Mommy, was there a space shuttle that had a woman on it and it blew up and she died?"

I knew she was talking about the Challenger so I answered, "yes, Claire, there was. The lady was a teacher and it was very sad."

"She was a teacher?"

"Yes, she was. Her name was Christa MacAuliffe and she was going to teach from space but she didn't get to. Where did you hear about this?"

"Oh, we talked about it in summer camp yesterday," she replied. "Was it a long time ago?"

"Well, sort of. Mommy was in the fifth grade when it happened."

"Oh," she said, eyes wide and mouth in a big circle. "It was a REALLY long time ago!"


Just when I thought we were going to have an intellectual discussion about something that really touched my childhood, she goes and calls me old! Kids!

No Rabbits Were Harmed For This Post

Who knew that when I mentioned I hadn't been feeling well for several days that the pregnancy questions would arise from you silly bloggers?

Not me for sure. See, pregnancy is SO not on my to-do list right now. In fact, I am trying to talk RxMan into going to see the saint doctor who makes sure his little boys will never swim again.... The only child this family will have will come from the loins of a woman across the pond or at least way south of the border- 'cause my loins?

They are closed. for. business. FOREVER.

Yep, that little bundle of boy that I was blessed with nearly eighteen months ago has caused me to swear off the whole reproducing thing for good.

When I was expecting him, I thought oh, three is the perfect number of children. We should certainly have just one more after this little guy. Shuh- right.

The person who said two is easier than one? Yeah, C.R.A.Z.Y. And the idiot (me!) who waited 6 years to get pregnant for her second child? She's flippin' crazy too because it is completely like starting over only you don't have to buy the crib.

For me, the seven year age span has been a blessing in many ways: Claire is a huge help. She doesn't get jealous. She is understanding; she is uber independent. But there are pitfalls: they will probably never be really close. I lost all the independence I had just gotten back.

I could go on. And on. And on. But the simple fact:

I. AM. NOT. PREGNANT. Thank you, Jesus!

I simply have hurt some muscles in my chest and have something called costochondritis, which is much better than the heart attack or blood clot that was originally suspected (and definitively ruled out). *giant sigh of relief and prayer of thanks*

So, thanks for your well wishes and any baby mojo around here is sent out your way with much pleasure.

Makeup Artist

Off The Radar

I am not feeling well and haven't been for the last several days.

Sorry I have fallen off the edge of the blogosphere....

I am seeing the doctor today for more tests to try to figure out what is causing my mysterious symptoms- or if I am just crazy.

I'm voting crazy, what about you???

Where Has The Cool Gone?

So, I'm sitting on my couch, folding my eleven hundredth load of laundry and my daughter is at the neighbor's and Liam is napping.

I have the television on and am watching and singing along to the theme song when I realize that I have just sat through and enjoyed almost an entire episode of this program:




The trouble? My KIDS ARE NOT WATCHING with me.


This mommy is in serious need of an adult play date, don't you think? Anyone else need a little kid-free time?

All Boy

I have complained lamented often lately about my son's bad behavior. The hitting, biting, scratching and otherwise aggressive behavior that is apparently not uncommon to many of you who are also raising cagefighters. That was a relief to find out but I am still perplexed as to how to curb the behavior. The good news is that it really seems to be less often and able to be avoided with proper napping and sleep. *fingers crossed*

I saw some family members on Sunday that I rarely see. They, of course, oohed and aahed appropriately over my children, especially Liam. See, in my family boys, you know the holder of the penis, are particularly prized. Liam is the first boy in about 15 years on that side of the family and, as such, is a bit of a novelty.

My aunts remarked on his new big boy hair cut. They gushed over his use of "thank you" and loved it when he climbed on top of the dining room table. "He's busy, isn't he," they proudly remarked.

Busy, yes. Rotten, yes. He's darling in a daredevil, scare mommy to death sort of way.

But when he found my mother's vacuum cleaner and managed to detach the long attachment and came into the family room wielding it as a weapon, trying to take out the other little ones (girls) in the room, I knew that I was in for it. The almighty penis could certainly not spare him from their wrath as he tried to beat down their granddaughters. Oh, these women were going to let loose on me with a diatribe about "spare the rod, spoil the child" and "when little Billy was that age...."

Uh, was I ever wrong.

In unison, they all giggled as I wrestled the murder weapon it from his hands and he wailed as if I had beaten him with it. Then, one by one, they all nodded and said, "All boy. That one there is all boy...."

So, I guess the next time he tries to go all cagefighter on someone else's kids, I will just smile and say, "oh, that Liam- he's all boy." How do you think that will go over at the park?



**No girls were harmed in the making of this post. The intended weapon of mass destruction was removed from the offender's grasp before he struck.

Daddy

When I met my husband I thought he was a really nice guy. I thought he was courteous, polite, respectful, and a little dorky. But I didn't even think about what kind of dad he would be, 'cause, well, I wasn't looking for someone to father babies.

Well, let me tell you- I sure hit the jackpot. My husband is right up there in the realm of superhero dads. It's true. This man was born to be a father. He delights in his children. He endures dance recitals with a smile (and, yes, he got to go!), he cheers at softball games, he changes crappy diapers with little complaint. He even gets up at 5:30am every. single. day. and lets me sleep in just so he can play with his son before he goes to work.

So, on this day, I say thank you to him. I thank him for my beautiful children, Claire and Liam. I thank him for his help and love. I thank him for being a part of our lives.

Happy Father's Day, RxMan.

Now, all of YOU: stay away from the pharmacy today. Seriously. The man needs a break and you can get your meds tomorrow or at Walgreens, CVS or Eckerds. So, let all the dads who work today have a break and stay home! Thank you very much!

Hair's The Word

Before: see those little curls in the back?

After: No more curls; he's a big boy now...

First haircut: it's done
Little curls cut away
Now he's a big boy

I took these photos last Saturday when Liam got his first haircut. I was nervous and weepy but I managed to get through. He, on the other hand, did swimmingly. No tears, only a few little unhappy faces.

Another first come and gone.

Babysitter Blues

**As I type this, I am reminding myself I was once young and selfish.

For the last couple of months, we have been paying this seventeen year old granddaughter of my mother's friend to watch our children. Lately, she has mostly watched Liam while my husband and I attended Claire's softball games. We didn't take him because he is in a bullying, aggressive stage and tried to take out the other little children that were there and because I was tired of trying to stop him from eating rocks and running on the field.

It was a real relief to have her. Recently, though, I have been a little irritated with some of the things she has done. One thing is she doesn't pick up after herself; my house is a wreck when she leaves. I think this is in part my own fault as I wasn't specific in wanting her to do this. The second and most annoying thing is that she is on my computer when I am not home. Again, I didn't specify that she not do this but I don't like it. Mostly because if my kid is awake and she is only going to be there two hours, she should be devoting all of her time to playing with him.

Then one day I saw her Facebook page after she left. I don't know how it happened but as I was shutting down my PC before an electrical storm, the page popped up. Of course, I looked! I am a nosy person by nature and I had to peek, especially because it was on MY computer and she was doing it while at MY house, watching MY awake kid.

I didn't like what I saw. There were pictures of her with alcohol in her hands and some of the things written were really sexually charged. Now, this page was only on my screen for a few seconds but long enough to change my entire opinion of this girl who I thought was very sweet and innocent. My husband assured me that more teenagers are like this than not and not to worry about it because she isn't doing those things while at our house.

Still, though...

So, I ignored my hesitations because, well, it is difficult to find someone to watch your kid- you know that. She is nice and both of my kids like her. Her family is close to mine. She watched Liam last evening for Claire's last game and was supposed to watch him again this weekend for her dance recital.

As I am walking out the door to take Claire to her game, the sitter, Molly, says, "Oh, about Saturday. I can't watch Liam 'cause I made plans to go to a lake with my friends."

What!!!?? Excuse me??!!

You can't watch my kid while my husband and I go watch my other kid in a dance recital just so you can go have sex to a lake???

I am furious. Livid. I can hardly look at her without smacking her pink lip gloss off her sunburned, seventeen year-old face. I say, "okay" and leave.

Now my husband cannot go as we have no one else to watch Liam. *steam rising from my ears*

At this point, the biggest part of me says good riddance to bad rubbish. I am pissed as hell that she doesn't have the forethought to see how importance a recital is to a family whose child is in it. I have no plans to take her up on her shrugged off, "if you can't find anyone else, I guess I can still do it...sigh". Nope. This family is done paying her $7 an hour to watch my darling boy. We will make do, as always.

Teenagers! Ugh!

Ingenuity

Summer vacation began about 10 days ago. There are good and bad things about summer: I appreciate the less structured routine for my daughter. My son, though, at 17 months still thinks 5:45 is the perfect time to rise and shine.

I did something a little sneaky this year, though. I convinced my daughter that attending a half day summer camp at school for 4 weeks (beginning today! woot!) would be the perfect cure for the dreaded seven letter word of summer- BOREDOM!

Back when you and I were little, this summer camp would have simply been called summer "school" but the savvy folks in our district refer to it as "camp" to trick kids and parents into it. No trickery needed on my part 'cause I think three hours of FREE babysitting by a teacher with a Master's Degree sounds darn near heavenly. Not to mention the snacks, learning and recess? Sign me up! I only wish there was a program for the little man...

Kidding! Okay, not really!

She and her dad needed a little prodding and convincing but I did it! She's going today and every Monday - Thursday until July 3. Ahh. It was much easier to convince her of this than that the orange and yellow Starburst are the good ones and she should make Mommy eat the red and pink ones.

Yep, that's me. I am a wicked, wicked lady. Just think if I used these powers for good instead of evil....

It's Potty Time

Okay, I am participating in both Haiku Friday and Photostory Friday today so, bear with me....

We bought a potty
Took off the diaper; guess what?
He peed! What a shock!

Our pediatrician recommended buying a potty just to have around for Liam to get used to it. (We're not even attempting potty training now, though.) On a whim, I took off his diaper and sat him on it and he peed! In the potty! Of course, that was the only time he peed on the potty, the other few times his diaper has been off he has peed on the floor, ottoman and laundry but, hey, the kid's only 17 months old. I took the photo because it was his first time on the potty- who knew I'd capture his first time peeing, too?

For more haiku fun, go here or here. For Photostory Friday info, see MamaGeek!

I'm Raising A Cage Fighter

My son turned 17 months old (*sigh*) on Tuesday. I remember from way back when my daughter Claire was this age that it is a tough one- their brains are so much faster than their communication skills. I remember a lot of whining and fit throwing.

What I know I don't recall from Claire's past is the hitting. Or the biting. Or the general aggression that I am experiencing with my son Liam. He really likes to do these things. I don't think (read: I'm hoping that he's not) that he is being malicious in these actions. Many times they are a result of being tired and, as I said, not having the verbal skills to relay his feelings to me.

But, seriously, what's a mom to do when Liam picks up the attachments for my vacuum and goes all cage fighter on my little girl? Granted, she's eight and he's so little but there is no way she is going to fight back or defend herself. And I don't want her to! He is still pretty much a baby and reciprocating these actions wouldn't help at all.

So, what do I do? We have tried being stern and saying "no!" loudly and firmly. So far it isn't working. We have feigned crying and he laughs. Really. And then usually smacks us in the face. I call him a redneck but I don't want to raise a redneck! I want him to be a nice, polite, ornery little boy- not a menace to society.

I need your help. Some of you have sons. Is it a boy thing? (That is my leaning, honestly.) And, for the love of all things good and pure, what can I do about these bad behaviors? Please help!

Romance ISN'T dead

When my husband and I were dating, life was filled with flowers, love notes and many unexpected expressions of his love.

After ten years of marriage, romance is a little hard to find amongst the clutter of a toddler and the chaos of an eight year old.

He recently told me he was bringing a surprise home. I think flowers? Candy? Jewelry?

Nope.

It was these:




Nothing says everlasting love like earplugs, do you think?

What's For Dinner?

I took a walk Sunday afternoon with my neighbor and returned to this:




My son "dining" on green beans, Arby's roast beef, a chunk of banana and loaded baked potato Pringles- all served on our finest china.

Daddy assured me that there wasn't any Michelob Light in the sippy cup but I dumped it out because after seeing the meal the man prepared I'm not putting anything past him...

What does your baby daddy consider dinner for your kid(s)?