Tuesday, April 29, 2008

2 Year Old Receives Pink Slip

Dear Almost Three-Year-Old:



Due to the recent and marked change in your behavior, I feel the need as CPO (Chief Parenting Officer) to inform you that it is our desire to reconstitute the governance to which we had all grown accustomed, and our highest priority is to reestablish some semblance of order. I also wish you to know that while we will diligently seek a peaceable reconciliation, we are prepared to take further action as necessary, some of which may be categorized as desperate drastic measures. We will not succumb to your attempts at subversion. Consider yourself on notice.


Due to your litigious nature as of late, many have hypothesized the catalyst of such a marked change. Some theories include:

a) ingestion of a foreign, presumably toxic, substance

b) having been temporarily overtaken by an extra-terrestrial given to fits of rage

c) the mastication of multitudinous quantities of bananas resulting in simian-like behavior

d) the receipt of a blow to the head, either self-induced, or by a sibling, effectuating the similitude of a tiny terrorist


While these hypotheses have been taken into careful consideration, it has come to our attention that most "experts" (sans children) consider the causation of this change to be an expected phase, and in their professional opinion, cavilling and cavorting in even the strangest of ways falls within their own defined "normal" limits.



heh.



That being said, as CPO, I am willing to continue our working relationship and to allow you to continue to reside in your current domain, receiving the same level of care and compensation to which you are accustomed in the form of unconditional love and hugs, clean laundry, hot meals, *toys with which to play (see below for details), the reading of books, and a timely change of wet/soiled disposable undergarments pursuant to, and in spite of, your abhorrence of said toilet training. (additional explanation below)


While it is my intention to make every effort toward a peaceable resolution, there are several behaviors which will not be tolerated.


For example:


While you are free to play with the myriad of play things available to you (as long as they are put away when not in use and handled in the manner in which they are intended), *the throwing of said play things will result in their immediate removal from the premise.


And consider yourself warned, that the (presumed) fit that follows the abeyance of toy privileges will also not be tolerated and may result in the precision usage of duct tape.


The grace period for your aversion to toilet training is nearing its end. Obviously, you are not in any way moved by beatings berating and bribes in the form of small candy-coated chocolates. Fine. Just know that while you are free to continue in this barbaric and boorish behavior, the day is fast approaching when I will no longer be your succor (or your sucker) in this area. If one day you suddenly find yourself standing naked in the middle of the yard with baby wash in one hand and the garden hose in the other, remember that you were duly warned. And bathe the dog while you're at it, would you?


Banging your head when you are angry does not hurt me; it only leaves sizable lumps on your noggin. Please stop.


Your categorical determination to scream your head off while riding in the van unless I am holding your hand is growing old and hyperextending my shoulders which gives me momentary lapses and visions of driving into a tree. Please stop.


While I recognize there exists a small language barrier between the CPO and yourself, it grows smaller by the day, and will no longer be considered an excuse to ignore or otherwise disobey said requests and/or commands. Comprendez-vous?


While everyone is entitled to change their mind, your incessant indignation over your cup being filled with the wrong drink, the precise one you requested, by the way, is, well...crazy. I think there is medication for this kind of crazy.


And lastly, yes, I know that you cannot yet read. I taught you to communicate through speech, and frankly, I question the wisdom of that decision at least once every hour on a daily basis, especially when you respond to conciliatory requests with screams and shouts of, "NO! I NOT DO DAT!" You will be taught to read one day, but until then, I am referring you to the EPO (Executive Parenting Officer), better known as Daddy, for any questions you may have concerning this notice.


The CPO is out to lunch until further notice.



Sincerely,


The CPO

Better known as Mommy.

Thursday, April 24, 2008

I knew it! Laundry IS hazardous to my health!

Seeing a







brown recluse






on my husband's freshly folded



















made me





woman screaming







and want to call






The Garland mobile health lab\'s hazardous materials team exits the Blanton student services building at SMU. They were investigating a suspicous envelope that was reported by a mail room clerk around 12:40 Friday afternoon.





Just sayin'.

Thursday, April 17, 2008

in which a comma changes everything

Two weekends ago, as the baby's birthday party was winding down, all of the guys disappeared. Outside. We just assumed that they were looking at Jay's new old truck that he "accidentally" bought on e-bay (that's an entirely different post). Anyway, quite a while later, they all came bursting in the front door saying stuff like, "Ooh, grunt, sweet ride, grrr, lots of power, blah, blah..."




And I knew they could not possibly be talking about this.










So someone asked, "Where have you all been?"



"Well, we just took a ride in the new Lexus. Aw man, it's great. Smooth, quiet ride. 0-60 in blah blah blah..."



The girls eyed each other, and in one swift motion, car keys were snatched away and children were hurled handed gently to the guys, and the front door slammed behind us. We were gonna take us a ride in L's new Lexus, and we'd be back when we got back. Hmph.



Five of us hopped in with L behind the wheel and decided to take it for a spin in a town that all but rolls up its sidewalks by 9pm. Oh well, the interstate is near by.


Taking a new car for a spin is not rocket science, but when you have five females oohing and ahhhing over the new leather smell, and listening to the "car lady" talk and tell you how to do things with your new car, and oh turn here, and look, something shiny...well, things can go awry. Like driving a whopping 60mph on the highway and still missing your exit.


I personally think it's that even a sweet ride like a Lexus is not necessarily designed to accomodate that much estrogen in a single spin. And estrogen, as we all know, can cause uncontrollable, inexplicable laughing that ends up in inane conversations like this one:


C to L: (in the front seat) Wanna hear something stupid?


R: (all concerned in the back seat) Ohhhh, did she say, "You're so stupid?"


K and me: (also in the back seat now howling with laughter) bwah haha No, haha, she said...


C: (laughing) No, I said, Wanna hear something [comma] Stupid?





Yes, she actually said comma.





R,K and me: (gasps! then giggles...)


L: ...


C: (laughing uncontrollably, trying to explain)


L: ...


R,K, and me: (by now snorting and out of control)


L to back seat: Did she call me stupid?


C: (trying furiously to stop laughing so she can talk) No, I said, Do you wanna hear something stupid? You know like a stupid story? I had a dream about my cat... *snort* Do these seats have a moisture barrier?


(entire car erupts into more snorts and giggles for fear C has wet her pants from laughing so hard)



L: NO! There's no moisture barrier! WHY??!!???! Does there NEED to be?




And it continued downhill from there...




Taking a short spin in your friend's new Lexus: $10 (for gas)



Hearing a dream about a cat coming up and down out of the toilet: Um...what's the going rate for a therapist these days?



Laughing with friends: PRICELESS

Wednesday, April 16, 2008

Tuesday, April 15, 2008

weird and random

Michelle at What Was I Thinking? tagged me for a MEME.




The Rules:

1. Link your tagger and list these rules on your blog.

2. Share 7 facts about yourself on your blog, some random, some weird.

3. Tag 7 people at the end of your post by leaving their names as well as links to their blogs.

4. Let them know they are tagged by leaving a comment on their blog.




Hmmmm. Random or weird. I realize some of you are probably chomping at the bit to do this one for me, but remember...if you know something weird or random about me, you just might be involved, so think hard before being so willing to answer, thankyouverymuch.



Ok. Here it goes.




1. I love Charles Ingalls. You know, "Pa" from Little House on the Prairie. Not in a romantical way, but I lurv him. Random or weird? You decide.



2. I am on a mission to read (all?) of the classics that I somehow missed out on in school or decided to "Cliffs Notes" my way out of. Sad, I know. I'm starting with Jane Austen. I like her.



3. I am afraid of my eyelash curler...that one day it will not let go and I'll be left lash-less and screaming like a little girl.



4. I'm pretty sure I'd rather sing to a crowd of 20,000 than speak to one of 20.



5. I attended college but didn't finish. I'd secretly like to get a degree, but then there's the whole school thing. Ugh. I'm just not sure what I'd want a degree in. Psychology? Writing? Howtomakeamilliondollarsquickandnotgotojail?



6. I sometimes count and trace all the right angles in a room. Do I have a secret love of geometry? Heck no! I think this would be better categorized as obsessive/compulsive behavior or neuroses? Think again before you decide to "call the little men in white coats." I know at least one of you who does something very similar. Don't make me out you.



7. I was voted "Most Talented" in High School, along with a guy named Neal. I was the Concert Choir chick who sang and accompanied the choir on piano, and he played electric guitar in a garage band. He's probably still way cooler than I am.




Ok. That's it for me. Now it's your turn. I'm tagging:

Kirsten at Welcome to Our Chaos

Andrea at South Asia Shefs

Jen at Raise Mine Ebenezer

Alicia at Right Wing Mom

Scott at Bald is Beautiful

Alicia at Renewed in Him

Christie at Smiling at Tomorrow

Monday, April 14, 2008

scratch my itch, pweez

W decides he has an itch he can't scratch this morning and sidles up next to me. He just stands there for a minute looking at me. Then he spins around with his back to me and says:


I gotta itchy back.


So I start to tickle and scratch his back, and he wiggles and giggles and turns it into a game.

giggling

W: I gotta itchy elbow.


Me: tickle, tickle, scratchy, scratchy


more giggling

W: I gotta itchy toe.


Me: tickle, scratchy, tickle, tickle


snort, giggle, snort

W: I gotta itchy bell-wee button.


Me: scratchy, tickle, scratchy, scratchy


giggling slows for a minute

W: I gotta itchy bottom.



*insert record needle screechy sound here*



Me: ...



Game Over.

Wednesday, April 9, 2008

wordless wednesday...rewind



My soon-to-be teenager riding a pony at Camp Lejeune, NC, summer 1997.

Tuesday, April 8, 2008

rotten egg, moldy cheese & vomit

No, I am not cleaning out my refrigerator, though I need to. And these are not items I found while straightening the couch this morning. And no, this is not my menu plan for this week.

Believe it or not, these are the jelly bean flavors that my kids are daring each other to try out this afternoon. Aack!

You see, some genius at the J*lly B*lly company apparently thought it would be great to make jelly beans that while they look alike, have very different flavors, and then my husband, in his infinite wisdom, thought he should bring some home.




For example:

Black - licorice or skunk spray

Yellow - buttered popcorn or rotten egg

White - coconut or baby wipes

Tan - cafe latte or ear wax

Orange - peach or vomit

Ok. You get the idea. GROSS! They even wrangled their unsuspecting little brother into their little game before I could stop them.

Here is what happened.

W: Hey guys, whatcha doin'?

R & E: You wanna play?

W: Yes! I doooo.

R: Here ya go. Eat this.

excitedly takes green jelly bean
W: Ok!

chewing, chewing, chewing...

R: What's it taste like?

eyes beginning to water
W: BOOGERS!

uncontrollable giggles from R & E

Poor W takes off running for the bathroom making gagging noises.

Me: Are you ok?

W: COUGH! HACK! AACK! GAG! PHBST! SPIT! HACK!

Me: W? You ok? Spit it out and wash out your mouth, baby.

running out of bathroom with watery eyes

W: Yeah, I'm ok. Dat was NASTY! Can I have anudder one?

Me: *eye roll*

Monday, April 7, 2008

a happy birthday indeed

Dear Mama and Dada,

I liked my party. Thank you for inviting my grown-up friends and babysitters. I liked having Rob and 'Neen, Ernie and Roe, Jason, Mandy, Perry, Jim and Connie, and Kasia at my party. I had fun. I like my new toys and my new clothes. But I think I liked my cake the best. It was yummy. I did not like it when ice cream fell in my shirt, but you laughed anyway. I guess I showed you. I put cake in my hair. So there.

Yours truly,
'lijah


Edited to add: Thanks Kasia for the great sequence of pics!









Saturday, April 5, 2008

Happy Birthday Baby!














Happy Birthday precious boy! I can't believe you have been with us for a whole year already. I don't know where the time has gone. Everyone says it...but I really do remember the day we brought you home. It was a Friday afternoon. And it really does seem like yesterday. You were less than 24 hours old, tiny and soft, incredibly sweet and immeasurably loved.














You were such a good baby. You liked to eat, and you were really good at it! You liked being held, but as you got a little bigger, you preferred to be laid gently in your bed. We always had the sound of ocean waves playing while you slept and wondered if you'd grow up thinking you lived by the sea. It was really just to buffer the noise of your big brothers and sister while you slept.















You had the softest, roundest cheeks! I kissed them at every available opportunity, stopping only for fear of completely devouring your sweetness.














I loved that you slept next to our bed, and most mornings you would wake up with the cutest little coos. You didn't cry; you'd just play with your toes until someone came to get you.















From the very beginning, you loved being held by and hanging out with your big brothers and sister. You probably don't realize it yet, but you are one lucky little guy. They all love you so much, and I love to watch the way you light up whenever they play with you. Pure joy. That's what it is. I am so amused by your curiosity as you take in the flurry of activity around you. You can't wait to get in on the action! And it won't be long now.



















They have taught you so many things...





Like how to get the most fun out of your bath.





How to play with big kid toys.






Really important stuff like how to down a cookie.






How to party like a rock star.






And how to use the "clicker."












I'm sorry that teething has been so rough on you.















You're usually such a happy little guy. Your smile lights up the room, and you are quite the chick magnet. (But don't tell your big brothers I said that.)
















You have the same cute little gap between your teeth just like your big brother did.
















I love your long eye lashes. And get a load of those baby blues! Yummy!















I am completely enamored of you. You've without a doubt charmed me, and I love you more every day. I love how you fold in two when you laugh. I love it when you cruise the furniture and then snuggle your little head on my leg; I'm not sure if you need a hug or you know I do. I am amused by you when you know you are getting into things you shouldn't and you look at me, shake your head and say, "Nah Nah Nah." I find it incredibly sweet that you have chosen your middle fingers to comfort yourself instead of maybe your thumb, because it has afforded you the nickname "rockstar." I'm proud of the way you've mastered the sippy cup; you're a real pro. I don't think you'll miss your bottle nearly as much as I will because it's just another sign that you're growing up. I love everything about you from your fuzzy little head to your pudgy little feet! I am so blessed to be your mommy.

Happy Birthday Baby!

Wednesday, April 2, 2008

Tuesday, April 1, 2008

who knew 'dis is what he gonna did?

Our older kids were born in Tennessee, but the younger two boys were both born in Louisiana...which is why we sometimes lovingly refer to them as Boudreaux and Thibodeaux.

That's BOO-drow and TIBBA-doe...for you Cajun-impaired.

But I'll get back to that in a minute.

Well, we had some family come visit over the Easter weekend, and what do you do when company comes a-callin'? You have a "boil." Obviously. Or actually, a "burl." I don't know. That's just what they call it. Maybe one day I'll do a post of Louisiana sayin's.

Anyway, what with it being Easter weekend and all, we could not find any live crawfish, only the already-boiled variety because apparently nothing says HALLELUJAH! HE IS RISEN! like throwing live mud bugs into a huge vat of burlin' water while they try to crawl out of the pot and bite you on the foot...and then callin' it dinner. So we bought some shrimp to boil instead.

Back to Boudreaux. Now all our kids adapted quickly to the eatin' of the crawfish even as little peeps, but the peelin'...well, that can be difficult. But we decided it was time for Boudreaux to learn because, as an experienced peeler, you can spend your entire meal peelin' and never get to eat because the little ones will pop 'em in their mouth as soon as you've peeled 'em, and quite frankly, it's hard to keep up.

Side note: There are several schools of thought concerning the peelin' and eatin'. I've seen the one at a time folks who peel and pop, peel and pop. Then there are those who suck the heads...and honestly? Please don't sit by me if you do that. 'Nuff said. Then there are those who patiently peel and peel and peel until they have a nice little pile and then go after 'em. You gotta admire that kind of delayed gratification, don't ya? But you have to develop your own style once you know how.

Today was Boudreaux's day. It was time to learn how to peel one. So he carefully chose one.

Ok...this one looks tasty.




Then "Papa Jim" showed him how to peel it like a man.




Mmmm. That's some fine eats.




Then what does he do?


He promptly sticks his finger in his eye...hot spice and all...


Oh Lordy, who knew 'dis is what he gonna did?


...and comes running into the house with "Aunt Connie" screaming, "My eye! My eye!" Though dramatic, she was actually fine, but the boy did need a little flushin' with the cold water.


Boudreaux was fine and lived to peel another day. I guess the whole "don't put your finger in your eye" thing will need to be added to the instructions when Thibodeaux gets a little bigger.



Anyway, here's the end result of a "burl." You just throw down some newspapers. But not just any newspapers. It doesn't matter if they are dated November 14, 2005, and have been riding in Connie's car. Let's be clear. She MUST HAVE READ THEM. Anyway, once we find some already-read papers, we just pour it all out on the table. Because we're fancy.




Cousin Marlana and Uncle Joey.




Cousin George caught 'im one.




Papa Jim and Aunt Kim.




Cousin Marlana with a big 'un.




So should any of you ever come visit, chances are there's a burl in your future.


But don't worry.


If you're a wuss, we also have a grill.