Aaahhh..

Our stuff is gone. All of it has been packed into a truck and is well on its way to the East Coast. Now, we're officially in limbo. Without an address or house, but not quite homeless. We're enjoying some family togetherness in our fifth wheel before we try to haul this thing across the country in a crazy blizzarding el nino year.

Our holidays were amazing, complete with Little Monster turning into Ralphie from A Christmas Story both when he sat on Santa's lap and forgot to tell him what he wanted for Christmas, and when he discovered the Light Saber Santa left for him. He, apparently was going to use it to save us all from the bad guys. Let's just hope I don't have any reason to give him soap poisoning and blind him anytime soon. For now, "naughty words" are any words that he doesn't want to hear from one of us. As for the words that come out of his mouth, they never stop. I swear the child even talks in his sleep.

Butterball is quickly becoming her namesake -- a little turkey. Fat thighs and goofy personality. Can it even be possible that she's pulling herself to standing and thinking about cruising on the furniture. So much for living in an RV arresting her development. She makes this incredibly cute face that's somewhere between a smile and a grimace when she's feeling silly.

I messed up again this year and failed to send out Christmas Cards. I still haven't even sent out a Christmas email to anyone. You'll all forgive me, right?

We spent most of the Christmas holidays enjoying each others company in our RV, but there was a break for a long, wonderful Christmas Eve service at church with many beautiful pieces of special music. It was probably a little late for two little ones, but we managed. We visited a friend, and Little Monster (I think for the first time in history) didn't have an accident at their house.

I hope everyone had a very Merry Christmas!

It's all in the timing...

We all have that family member. You know the one. The one that likes to tease you. They get just the teeniest bit of pleasure in making you squirm. They know all the right buttons to push and when to push them. So they do.

I have one of these family members. She always catches me at least once during our family reunions. This year, she wasn't at Thanksgiving dinner so thought I was getting off Scot free.

Then, today we visited the hardware store to get the folks a new Christmas tree. We turned our backs for two seconds. When we turned around, there Little Monster was, ten yards of felt ribbon unfurled around him, half of the spool ripped off. My mom, while holding three large spools of her own ribbon, told him to put it back. He promptly ignored her and continued to unroll the ribbon. At that moment, I turned around gave him a stern talking to, and swatted him on the butt because he didn't listen.

At that very moment, I turned around and there was that family member. Watching my normally angelic little boy --What, you don't believe me?? Well, I guess if you read this, you know the truth -- being incredibly naughty. And she commented on it. Oh yes she did. The one moment in the entire store when you really don't want anyone looking, let alone that family member.

Oh well, at least she'll have something to tease me about at the next family reunion we go to. Plus, my dad ran her over with the Christmas tree when we were in the checkout lane. ;) If you're reading this, family member, you know you are loved!

Wanted!

Boy Aged 3, goes by Little Monster. Other Aliases include but are not limited to Bo-Bo and Wolverine. Last seen wearing denim pants, brown shoes and grey hooded sweatshirt. Rosy cheeks and messy hair. Possibly covered in dirt. Carrying a rope.

Dog. Aged 13. Jack Russell Terrier, White and Tan. Some aging apparent on face in muzzle and eyebrows. Goes by the name of Buster. May or may not be wearing a red collar.

Approach with caution as the two could be considered armed and dangerous. They were last seen on Saturday afternoon. They are believed to have escaped from the high security facility known as Grandparents backyard. The escape was believed to be a team effort out of the back gate. Their motives are yet unknown as are many of the details of the escape.

---

Either I have a Doctor Doolittle on my hands, or we're in big trouble. Maybe a little bit of both. This morning, while I was taking and unexpected nap with Baby Butterball, Little Monster came in crying because Grandpa said he wasn't allowed to play outside anymore. Why? Because Grandpa had found the dog outside of the gate, while Little Monster was attempting to climb over it out of the backyard.

We interrogated both parties. According to Little Monster, Buster was tired of being in jail. So Little Monster helped Buster to get out of the yard, then decided he needed to "rescue" Buster. The dog, however still refuses to talk.

Go Huskers?

I grew up in a college town. A college town that revolved around their football team. You don't go shopping, eat out, go downtown, or do anything outside of your home on home game Saturdays. And heaven forbid you accidentally wear your favorite purple shirt the day Nebraska plays Kansas State. So when I met Not the Momma, a big hunky football-y player looking guy, I asked him what his feelings were about football and sports in general. His answer, something I can't repeat because he is, after all, a sailor, made it clear that I didn't have to worry about becoming a football widow. There would be no worries about needing to throw giant Superbowl parties, or whining about turning the game down so that the kids could sleep.

Being away from all of the sports craziness has made me want to embrace it, just a little bit. So, when we returned to Nebraska, I bought some "Husker" gear for the kids and I to wear this weekend for the game. We went out to dinner the night before the game last week, and Little Monster learned the phrase "Go Big Red!" It's actually rather cute to hear it come from his little mouth. Especially when he forgets that he's supposed to say 'big' and it comes out "GOOOOOOO witttllllllllle Wehhhhhh-ehhhhhhd! Go Big Wed!"

It's surprising how quickly little ones pick things up, and what they mean. Little Monster today somehow picked up that we were all wearing red, and that all of our clothing had the "huskers" logo on it, and I somehow missed it. Imagine my surprise, then, when we skyped with Daddy earlier this evening:

Me: Never mind the shirt I'm wearing.

NTM: Ah, you went out and bought some husker gear, eh?

LM: GO BIG WED!


And now that the child has learned team spirit, for a team to which he doesn't belong, I now must pray that my husband has not changed the locks to the house when I return. Or that, now that we have orders, he hasn't up and moved without us.

How about some Beta Carotene?

Auntie L: You know, LM, carrots are good for your eyes. They help you see!

LM: Carrots not good for mine mouth!

Strange Happenings

Mom! Don't worry! Dat not a monster! Dat just a car driving by. It not a bad guy. Where dat car going?

Probably to the grocery store. I don't know where they're going baby.

Dey not toming a dwama's house?

Nope. They are not coming here.

Oh, Okay.

----------------------------------

Buster! Buster! Tum outside and pway wif me. It a nice day outside! Tum On! (the pitch going higher with every sentence) Tum ON! Tum on Buster!

Buster, it a nice day outside, Tum on! Don't be mad! Tum on! Tum on! Tickle Tickle Buster!! You tum outside wif me and you pway wif me.

-----------------------------------

Baby, Buster is old and probably needs a nap. Let him take a break and he'll come outside with you again in a little bit.

It IS a little bit! Buster need tum outside wif me and get da bad guy monters out of da yard.

------------------------------------

After all of that, he came inside, took off his pants.

Me tiwerd mommy. Me take off mine twothes, me get mine jammas on. Me need take a shower first though. Den me get in mine bed.

He proceeds to remove the REST of his clothing, go downstairs, find pajamas and pull-ups, put them on. If the child goes downstairs and crawls into bed and goes to sleep, I'm going to start praying, because surely it is a sign that the end of the world truly is near.

Good Listening skills

Tonight, in order to celebrate Little Monster's birthday, we went to our favorite Chinese restaurant.

Little Monster was in rare form, arguing and demanding things.

I tried to remind him to turn on his listening ears. In the car, after some arguing about whether or not he was good enough to get his fortune cookie, I gave it to him.

"Mommy! MOOOOOOOM! HERE!" as he is shoving the paper into my hands.

It read "Your good listening skills will open many doors."

After spending a good forty minutes of:

"Little Monster, sit on your bottom. What do you say? What do you say? Use your manners. Turn around and sit down right. Please use your spoon. Use your spoon. Little Monster, remember your manners. Little MONSTER! EAT YOUR RICE. NO! Slow down. Don't slurp your lemonade like that!"

I couldn't help but laugh loudly and uncontrollably. Nearly to the point of tears.

When I showed the fortune to Not the Momma, his response was "MY BUTT!!"

and then we heard:

"Yeah, and my butt too!" come from the back seat.

Later that eventing at Target, we were discussing how he would be rewarded for his "good listening skills." I explained that he needed to turn on his listening ears. His response (which nearly toppled the old woman in front of us she laughed so hard) was:

"Mommy, mine wiss-ning ears bwokeen. Me need buy new ones!"

Maybe his new ones have the listening skills his fortune cookie spoke of?

Recipe for a good party?

Little Monster turns three this week. It seems like time is passing faster than it should. It isn't fair. Between he and his sister, I'm going insane trying to keep up. Butterball can sit up, and she's rolling over and around and over to get to thing she wants, mere seconds from crawling.



We had his birthday party early because the kids and I are planning a trip home for November. I was stressing it a bit. I invited what I thought were a few too many people (the E-vite said 32 people were coming). The house was trashed, its normal state these days, no matter how much I don't want to admit it. I was exhausted from being up all night most nights nursing a hungry little girl. I didn't exactly know when I was going to find the time to get everything done for the party.



Not the Momma's plan was to set the party up in the garage. Mine was for the front yard. I let Not the Momma have his way. It was a good decision. (I refuse to admit he was right. ;) -- I just won't.) After I thought about it, if it was going to be foggy, then it was going to be better if we had a place to warm up, and if it was sunny our horde of babies was going to need a shady place to hang out. I had spent quite a few days thinking about what to serve for food and cake.



I ended up doing everything very simple. We hung some streamers, NTM grilled some hot dogs, and bought some pre-made salads.



For days before the party, Little Monster knew something was going on. We had invited the Fire Truck to come out, but hadn't told him about it, but he knew that his friends were going to come over, there was going to be a bouncy house, and he was going to get a fire truck cake and sprite. What else could he want, right? The night before the poor kid didn't sleep more than an hour at a time. The morning of the party, I brought him with me to pick up the cake. Despite his exhaustion from lack of sleep, he still buzzed around the grocery store like a free electron. He buzzed from the front of the grocery cart, to my leg, to the shelves. The wait at the bakery nearly killed the poor kid.



When the bouncy house showed up, his energy went through the roof. I half expected him to vibrate through the walls of the house, anticipating the fun he was going to have.



And then it began. His friends showed up. They bounced and bounced and bounced. And I kicked everyone out and made them eat some lunch.



As they were finishing up eating, the fire truck arrived. The look on Little Monster's face was priceless. He was a little big confused. And when they began to back the truck into our driveway, we had to restrain him from running into the truck barefoot.

He was so excited to 'drive' the truck and push buttons! All in all the party was a success. I think it was mostly because I didn't try to plan much. We made the kids stop jumping to eat, and let them do whatever the rest of the time. They even had a 'fire' in the playhouse while the truck was here!

A Day for Praise!

Some days we are tested more than others. Will we praise the Lord when things aren't going as planned? I had one of those days last week. The plan was to go to the pumpkin patch with a friend. Apparently, someone else had other plans.

When we left late, I wasn't worried about it. For once in my life, I wasn't anxious about being late. Praise the Lord!

We picked up my friend, got everything in the car, and headed to a local coffee joint to get caffeinated before dragging three children under three to the pumpkin patch, a mere two days after one of the biggest rain storms we've had in decades! Praise the Lord! The fire season is over.

I had forgotten the address and directions that had been posted for us by our group, but I had the iPhone, and the GPS (never need a map again!). I had been to the town the farm is in a billion times (more like three or four). We were running late, but it wasn't like it was a ten minute activity.

I typed in the farms' name in my GPS and it found an address! the first time! That rarely happens! Praise the Lord the thing finally did what we bought it to do!

So off we went, heading to the farm. We turned onto the road that was supposed to head into the farm. We turned left onto the last road! After thirty minutes of whining from the back seat about when we were going to get to the "punkin patch!" from the three year old, we were within a mile of the farm.

But as we turned the last turn, we were greeted with a golf-course and a gated housing community. Somehow I doubted that this very public, farm could be found in the middle of a gated, very private community. So, no big deal. We turned around, parked and I looked up the address on my iPhone. Turns out, the address was wrong. Again, no big deal, I plugged the address into my GPS, and it took us to the other side of the town. We headed through, and ended up in the middle of a farming community. A vineyard on one side, an orchard on the other. Private homes everywhere. But no halloween-y pumpkin patch farm. We were forty minutes away from home, who knows where the pumpkin patch was, but it was almost 1:00. The kids needed to eat. So, we decided to fore go the pumpkin patch. We ended up at a McDonalds (not the one I had planned on going to after the pumpkin patch) where the boys could get out and run around the play castle for a while. J, who is 1, spent the entire time splashing in a rain puddle. and Little Monster pooped in his pants. We decided it was "mommy time" and headed to Panera to get some good lunch, that wasn't fried in oil and processed beyond recognition.

Praise the Lord. For good conversations, a lesson in humility for both me and my son, a lesson in my dependence upon technology and getting to spend some time in the sun. And for good food. even if we didn't make it to the pumpkin patch.

Don't be confused if...

... you happen to see us, and my child bounces around yelling "Piss off." he's not really saying piss off. He's saying "BLAST OFF." We don't let our kids watch British shows where people have potty mouths. Or if when he says he's going to get "funky", he forgets about the "n" in the word. At least don't be as confused as I was, and think maybe it was time to lay the smack down in the house about what we're watching on TV, and what we're saying. And don't be surprised when Not the Momma laughs uncontrollably when he realizes why I'm upset and staring at Little Monster as he's repeatedly "blasting off" all over the living room.


...you drive through our neighborhood, which has completely lost power due to winds and rain, and you see my husband sitting on the couch enjoying television on his giant flat panel. Because, friends, that's what generators are for. And extension cords.

...you see me with a giant size 3 diaper wearing baby instead of the teeny (giant) newborn I just brought home. Who knew that babies grew up? Who knew they grew up this fast?

...that tiny newborn actually sits strapped into the grocery cart.

...you see Little Monster pedaling on his bicycle. It happens.

...you call me and you hear lots of yelling. It happens a lot. Especially because the phone only rings when Little Monster has managed to smear poop all over the bathroom, Butterball is crying because she's hungry and wet, and I'm trying to get ready to leave.

...I forget something. Children (even non-nursing ones) have a way of sucking the brain cells right out of their mother's heads until they can barely walk, let alone remember anything.

...you see me online a bit more. I got a new laptop and it is fancy! (That is the major reason for the lack of posting -- I had to get it all up and running!)

...I begin to whine about the cold again. I'm getting ready to go somewhere that is actually cold, instead of pretending to be cold like the area where we live now.

...the sun shines in Coastal Central California. It happens. It also rains here. And we get nasty winds. Once every "hundred years!" Even if it's happened three times in the two we've been here.

...This coming Saturday it rains, even though the weather is supposed to be nice. The only time the weather people are right around here is when they forecast a temperature range of 45 to 65, partly cloudy and a chance of fog, or if the storm of the century is coming.

A typical day in my life.

Today is one of those days that I will look back on and laugh about. Eventually. Eventually, but probably not tonight. Maybe not tomorrow. But probably sometime pretty soon.

It started out a bit too early. Right about 3:00 AM. And again at 4:30 AM. And 5:15AM. 6:30AM.

Then, Butterball decided to exercise her lungs. And the capillaries in her face. For three hours. Without stopping. After I gained about sixty new grey hairs, and sympathized with every mother whose ever thought about doing horrible things to their four month old, I put on some crazy music, and she finally went to sleep. Ten minutes before we needed to leave for the afternoon play date. A play date that I definitely needed. Little Monster needed it too. In fact, I'm not sure who needed it more.

The last time we went over to this friend's house, Little Monster had a diaper explosion of catastrophic proportions. There was poop everywhere. Thinking of that, I packed an extra pair of socks, underwear and pants. I didn't want to have a problem. I also packed an extra outfit for Butterball.

We got to my friend's house and the kids began running around the backyard, playing and having a good time. It was hilarious to watch them all play together, using such big imaginations. And then it happened. One of the children came into the house and announced:

Little Monster's pants are down!!

What? His pants are down?

We looked outside to find Little Monster standing in the middle of the yard, jeans and underoo's around his ankles. There was a streak on his leg, and poop on his shoe. He must have had an accident and then tried to clean it up for himself.

I walked over to begin getting him cleaned up.

Did you have an accident?

Yes. Me doop in mine pants.

I see that. As I began pulling off his pants, careful not to disturb any remnants within his pants, I noticed that there were no remnants in his pants. Not even a skid mark was left in his underwear. WHERE WAS THE POOP?

Little Monster -- where is your poop?

In da back ward.

You pooped IN THE BACK YARD?

I began cleaning up Little Monster's shoe while he went inside the house. Without pants or underwear. My friends began searching the backyard for the poop. And that's when my friend's husband came home. To a bottom-less Little Monster. What a nice surprise for him, huh?

After hosing down the backyard, his shoes, and getting him dressed in his 'backup' clothing my friend offered me a cup of coffee. I took it, and considered asking for something to "Irish" it up.

Luckily, things settled down. Butterball enjoyed playing with other mommies, the kids threw a wedding in the backyard, complete with veil and flower girl. And there were no temper tantrums when we had to leave. I felt refreshed, glad for the time with good friends who wouldn't judge me for having a three year old who would poop in someone else's backyard.

So, I began making dinner. As I got elbow deep in chopping veggies, Butterball started whining and crying in her chair. And Little Monster, sitting on the toilet was whining for a butt wipe. Just in time for Not the Momma to come home and find out what my life is like every day.

Every. Day.

blatant, obnoxious begging

Click and vote. Or I will hurt you.





Just kidding about the whole hurting you thing. Sort of.

4 months

Our little Butterball turned 4 months old last week.

FOUR MONTHS OLD?

I go back and forth between "Has it already been four months?" and "How has it only been four months?" It feels like she's been part of our family forever.

Obviously, Little Monster likes her, so we plan on keeping her. And Not the Momma -- he's pretty smitten, so smitten, it's kind of gross. But don't tell him I told you. It would damage his macho pride.

She's only been here four months, but you wouldn't know it to look at her, she can hardly believe it herself!

She's trying to sit up. She is this --> <-- close to doing it all by herself for more than a few seconds.She's already stealing my soda.
Look at the cupie Hair-do. Or is it a mohawk? She certainly can't be making rebellious statements already can she?

I guess she can. She was done having her picture taken. Poor kid.

She's doomed to a life of cameras in her face and photos on the internet. Just more fodder for her therapist later.

Sometimes it takes a while...

... for the electricity to connect to that little light bulb that goes off. You know, the one that goes on when you finally come to a realization? Mine came on today.

Little Monster is pretty good, and in order to keep it that way, often I'll bribe reward him for his behavior. A common conversation in our house is something like this:

Mommy, I get tookie?

Yes, Little Monster, if you're good.

I AM good!

He is. Every child is good. Some children are just naughty. I don't like using the word "bad" because it is a personality description rather than a behavior description. So, I changed the way I phrase my bribesrewards to include the word behave. Then, we started having the following conversation:

Mommy, I get tookie?

Yes, Little Monster, if you behave.

Me AM have! See, it in mine pocket! (Then he pulls something pretend out of his pocket and shows me, waving whatever it is around like a card or a piece of paper.)

(Isn't that hilarious! His HAVE, pronounced with a long A, like CAVE is in his pocket!) It only took me two weeks, to realize he thought I was saying "be Have" not behave.

So then I got to wondering how else can I phrase my bribereward statements? I started asking him to "listen and follow directions." But that doesn't work well either. When he forgets, he reminds me that he wants to listen. So he wants to, but he forgets, or can't. What do you do with a kid like this? I mean, besides smother him with kisses and hugs and pretend to be "ZURG" when he insists that he is NOT, in fact, Little Monster but Buzz Lightyear instead.

Adventures in Milk

Not the Momma is a wonderful Daddy. He helped me get everything into the car for our trip to the potty train. He even remembered to pack the double stroller, knowing I have a friend with a little one who is not quite walking yet. Because he is such a wonderful father, I didn't think anything of it when Little Monster was sitting in Schmitty, with his seat moved to the back, with a sippy cup of milk.

NTM, thank you for giving Little Monster some milk. That was a huge help.

I didn't give him any milk, Mary. I thought you did.

I didn't give him the milk. I thought you gave him the milk.

We simultaneously shuddered and I yelled for Little Monster to put the cup down. The cup that Little Monster had been drinking out of for at least ten minutes.

How OLD is this milk NTM?

I don't know. I. Don't. Know.

(I tilted the cup to check for its consistency) Well, at least it's all still liquid. No chunks.

Needless to say that Little Monster got some fresh milk after that. He did not suffer any intestinal distress so the milk must have been fairly fresh. Please tell me that we're not the only family that often finds sippy cups in odd places (and prayerfully not being ingested) that sometimes contain a substance that is more cheese than milk?

The Potty Train

The trip was postponed, but it did happen. Little Monster got to ride the POTTY TRAIN!!! Really, it was a train up in the Santa Cruz Mountains. It was pretty.

I think he was so overwhelmed he didn't know how to react.

He is ready to give his ticket to the "maaaaan."

I have no idea what this is all about, other than I told him to smile. This is what I got.

Then the train whistle blew. It was a bit loud, and he was surprised by it.

In the end, I think he had a good time.

Oh, Brother.

Little Monster has positively got to be the best big brother in the entire world.

This morning I tried to catch up on some missed sleep. It didn't work entirely too well, but I don't miss the zzz's. I got to witness the sweetest thing ever.

Hi butterball. me wight here. Mommy, she waffing at me. Butterball. me hold yours hand. one two fwee four five. fwee four five turtles on yours jammas. tickle tickle, butterball. hee hee hee, you tickle me! ha ha.. You got mine shirt! ha ha!! (butterball giggles) Butterball waffing mommy! Butterball, you sweet. I wuv you. I wuv you too. Wook butterball. here yours wegs. you wook at yours body? at yours belly? ha ha. wook at yours turtles jammies. me here butterball. hi! hi! yours brudder wight here. You want pway wif baby toys? Me share wif you. Me got you. me got you. (gives her a hug) i wuv you too butterball.

For about thirty minutes, Little Monster, without prompting, played cooed and laughed with his sister. It was some of the best non-sleep I've ever gotten.

Make Me Laugh

Things Little Monster has done that have nearly brought me to tears:



Daddy "Go bug Mommy."

LM "No. I bug Daddy."







Mommy "Okay, it's time to say our prayers."

LM (loud breathing like Darth Vader) "Luke, I am your Father. Amen."





While eating out at a restaurant, Little Monster was misbehaving. Daddy told him to behave and stared him down. Little Monster's response was to open his eyes wide and stare back.



We told him we were going to visit our friends G & J last Thursday. He asked once per hour for the next four days if we were going to visit G & J.



Dad: Let's go to twore. Me want go to target. me get stickers, OOOOKAAAAAY?

LM: No daddy. go in my car.

Dad: okay let's go.

LM: NO WAY! door slam

LM (to mommy) mommy. Daddy and popcorn and movie and night-night and green bike. no bye-bye.

Sunday Sorrows.

My son ate three pieces of pizza tonight. And a brownie. The child used to skip dinner every night.

My daughter is exhibiting signs of jealousy. She whines when her brother plays near her and she can't join in.

They grow up fast.

Music Mania

Little Monster has all of a sudden taken to actually listening to what's on the radio in the car while we drive.
I didn't think it was such a big deal. I love it when we're listening to Derks Bently and the kid starts belting out "sideways! hey! hey!" or if we're listening to Christian music, it's fine for him to sing along.

The problem comes in when I listen to my Lithium station (Alternative rock from the 90s) or when Daddy listens to his rock station (Octane).

On regular radio they blurp out the bad words. On satellite radio, not so much. And although it is hilarious to hear a 2 year old sing the lyrics to the George Michael song "Faith," I was unaware that the Limp Bizkit version took an already X-rated song to a new level.

It isn't so funny when he starts singing along to the limp bizkit version. I am very grateful that to Little Monster, they were just 'sounds' as opposed to telling someone to be quiet in a very rude way. No matter what, I still love hearing that kid sing "brass monkey."

More Monster Talk

I'm sure you're all going to get tired of these little anecdotes. But I think they're hilarious. I've started carrying a notebook around with me to record all of the silly things that he says. And let's face is. This is my blog, in essence, my memoirs. And these are the things that I want to remember.

---

Trying to get Butterball to talk:

NTM: Da Da

Me: Ma Ma

NTM: DA da da da da da da

Me: Ma ma ma ma ma ma ma

Little Monster: Little Monster, Little Monster, Little Monster, Little Monster, Little Monster.
(of course he was using his name, but still, it was hilarious.)

Monster Talk

Where is da mommy store?

I don't know. Why do you want to go to the mommy store. Do you need a new one?

Yes. Mine udder one is bwokeen.

---

On a Saturday Morning drive along the beach:

We stop and pway on wocks? Tweeeeeeeeeeeese Daddy! Me want wook at da fishies. Dey my FAAAAAAAAVOWIT!

---

Not the Momma and I were laughing and having a discussion in the front of the car.

Top Woud talking! SHHH!! Butterball sweeping!!

Weather Woes.

I live in a land of eternal cool and fog. 60 to 65 degrees is great. Wonderful even. Especially between November and March. I so much prefer that to bitter cold that sucks the breath out of you. However, from June through August it's supposed to be HOT. I was fine with the temperature (for the most part) this summer, because I knew that in September and October, we'd be in for some good weather. And good weather we were promised. This week!

The forecast was for 85 degrees (even on the coast!) on Monday, and temps in the 90s for the rest of the week.

The actual temperatures have been lucky to get above 60. And the fog. There was no mention of fog in the forecast. This isn't any regular fog either. This is fog reminiscent of the "mist." I'm afraid to go out into the world for fear that some crazy military experiment bugs are going to eat me. You can barely see across the street.

The fact that the weather guessers changed their graphics to include temperatures that DARE rise above the 60s had me very optimistic. I went out and bought Tank tops. And skirts. And planned to paint my toenails by the pool all week. I got all of my chores done during the crappy weather this weekend so that I would be able to enjoy the weather with my kids. I am craving the smell of sweaty little boy mixed with Coppertone and sunned skin. I had hoped to get it this week. Instead, the air feels crisp. Cool, like autumn. Except how fair is it to have autumn when we haven't had a summer? I mean, other than that one perfect day. Autumn is supposed to come after you've been bombarded with so many hot days in a row that you can't possibly take one more. Then, you wake up and the humidity has gone away, the temperatures are cooler, and the air smells of fall -- freshly mowed grass along with fallen leaves and moist soil.

I feel kind of silly because I was so very excited about the hot summer weather that we were supposed to get. I was so ready for it, that now that it isn't coming, I feel let down. Depressed. Almost to the point of tears when I think about it. If that isn't a sign of crazy, I don't know what is.

Who are you?

Little Monster is a great big brother. The other day we were out and about, driving all over the county. The sun was shining into the back of the truck, right into Butterball's eyes. I turned around and found Little Monster adjusting the shade. I told him to stop playing with her seat:

Little Monster, stop messing with your sister's seat. You're going to wake her up.

No, mommy. I just fixing it. Da sun was in Butterballs eyes. She not happy.

Oh, okay. Little Monster, You're such a good big brother.

No, I dest batman.

Reverse PC translator.

"One person would take the project and run with it and the others would assist and provide input when required. I do believe that there could have been a better way to pick the final briefer other than the junior person; however they emphasized their managerial skills by empowering me with the brief. " -- NTM

Can anyone else translate this? I mean, when I do, it looks like someone typed out the paragraph below into some Dilbert Political Correct-ness translator.

"They were all jerks. They made me do all of the work, and then yelled at me when it wasn't what they expected, even though they didn't tell me what they wanted in the first place. Then, when it's finished, they'll either take the credit for my good work, or pass the buck on to me when it sucks. It was especially crappy of them to make me not only do the work, but present it. But then again, they outrank me and life's a B****. Until you're a Commander, then you can tell some unlucky Lieutenant do all of the s***work."


Disclaimer: The paragraph above is in no way what NTM actually thinks about the people he worked with. That was MY translation of the paragraph he wrote for a paper. He never once complained about anything about this particular class or this group. And trust me, if they actually had been jerks, he would have.

Sleep is a wonderful thing...

After yesterday's bout of "WILL YOU PLEASE INHALE BETWEEN SENTENCES BECAUSE IT WILL GIVE ME 1/2 SECOND OF SILENCE" verbal dysentery by the Little Monster, we headed over the hill to where summer lives so that he could play with a friend.

Play he did. For four hours, that child and his friend ran. And ran. And ran. And wore capes. And yelled "da DAH!" while popping out from behind corners. They rolled cars on the ground and threw balls. They completely and totally trashed his little friend's room. I felt bad because we were there to bring meals to MY friend who recently had a baby. We did, but I feel like we made some more work for her. She said the hours of playtime were worth the clean-up. I hope she wasn't lying. (And I know she's reading!)

As for me, it was definitely worth it! I got out of the house, spent some time with friends, and Little Monster had a blast. It would have been worth it before we got home. Before Little Monster went to bed at 7PM without complaining. And slept for thirteen hours straight. Without sneaking into our room and making a bed on the floor with our bed pillows. I was surprised when I got up at 2AM and he wasn't up. And 3:30AM. And 5:00AM. And 6:30AM. And 7:30AM. And 8:00 AM when he finally came into our room, after 13 hours of sleep, I looked at my precious little cranky Butterball, who hadn't let me sleep much at all and wondered why she couldn't sleep like that.

Oh yeah, she's just a baby.

GOOOOD Morning!

Are you aware that we have not set an alarm clock and actually been able to sleep in until it went off for over a year? Almost two? Little Monster gets up with -- and often before the sun. Every. Morning. Even on Saturday.

In the early days of the whole "no alarm clock needed" phase of our life, we'd wake to screams and cries. That morphed into "MOMMY!!! DADDY!!!!! OUT!!! WET ME OOOWWWWWT!!! Most recently we wake up because of doors slamming followed by demands to be taken to the bathroom.

This morning was no different, except that we had the rare occasion that we didn't have to BE anywhere bright and early. No one was coming over, chores were going to be skipped, and Daddy didn't need to be to work before the sun thought about getting up. So, we told Little Monster to just go to the bathroom. Daddy coached him into moving his stool and putting the seat on. I reminded him to "hold it down" so that the littlest fire hose didn't spray the entire bathroom. And we tried to go back to sleep.

Emphasis on "tried."

After Little Monster used the bathroom, it started. It was as if someone turned a switch on the back of his head and suddenly every little thought that came into that little boy's head came spilling out of his mouth. My mom used to tell me I had verbal dysentery. Who knew it was genetic?

Mom, the sun up? Yes, mom. The sun up. Get up mom. Mom, I tell you a story. A story, mom. A story about a Mommy. There was a mommy who went in a cave and she was in the water. It dark. And then Mommy fall down in water. And yell at daddy get hers swimsuit. And turn the wights on. And then Mommy fall down in da water. And da owange joker come and Daddy wide on owange motorcylce. And joker push mommy down in dark water in da cave. And it dark. And mommy well about hers swimming suit. The end. You like that story mommy? I tell you story about a cave and water and swimming. Daddy owange joker and he push you down and wide on owang motorcycle.

It went on like that for a while. So we got up and got dressed. And we went to drop Daddy off at work. I thought surely, the narrative would stop.

Mommy, the owange motorcycle. Look! I see joker house! It wight dere! Mommy, wacecars need headlights? No. da track is lit. ha ha ha dat funny! Mommy. I need mine skateboard. I pway wif it. wight now. NO, it is in a wittle bit. WE go to fwiends house aday mommy? Is it amorrow? YAY! it amorrow! We go to fwiends house! Mommy - this a timer. It beeping. See? Now it not beeping. Now it is. Now it not. Now it is. Now it not. What is dis mommy? What is dis den? Mommy, i need sit in yours lap. Mom, I want this open, me get this in there. Mom, thank you. Dat in da wiving woom. I want other one. Mom, this mine stuff. I want my softball me wooking for. Mom, a me hold this mom..... Mom what is this? It say "boop boop boop boop" (turns on game) What is this mom? See it boop boop boop. (shuts off game) What is this mom?

I was warned a long time ago by my mother that "someday I would have a child JUST LIKE ME." If this is what I was like, maybe I'll be lucky enough to have two.

I'm FAMOUS on the INTERNETS!!

Okay, maybe not...

My neighborhood is small... and the photographer who took our most recent family photos is amazing. And people are now recognizing me from the photos she's taken.

This must be what Hugh Jackman feels like when he goes to ComiCon. (Did you know he gets naked in Wolverine: origins? Not bad naked, nice naked.)

Fun times, fun times.

Lingustic proof of aging.

Kids grow up too fast. We all know it is going to happen, but when it happens to your kids, you never cease to be amazed.

I don't know when it happened, but my Little Monster is growing up, and it is evident in the way he speaks these days. No longer does he say "boose" when he's asking for apple juice. He asks for apple juice. He corrects us and says his sister's name correctly when we call her "butterball," which is what her name sounded like after she was born. It's getting easier and easier to distinguish "Turkey" and "Cookie" and "poopie" which all came out sounding like "too-kee" not that long ago.

I just hope that he continues to use the word "whackin'" instead of napkin for a little longer. And it's totally fine with me that he messes up his pronouns and says "me" when I is what he wants to say -- even when we correct him. I hope he'll continue to yell at the sun for shining and the wind for blowing as if the world bows to his whim.

I'm not quite ready for him to be a big kid quite yet, so I'll hold on to these moments -- as long as I can...

My schpeal

I have been a member of PWOC (Protestant Women of the Chapel) for a while, now. Today, I spoke, and I'm putting what I talked about up here too. Of course what I have written down is not exactly what I said, but you'll get the gist of it. And you won't have to watch me sweat and shake like the poor ladies did this morning. To God be the Glory for this message. I hope that those who need to hear it hear it.

---

This tour has been extremely pivotal in my faith and my journey with Christ. Even still, since I have been here, I have found myself questioning my faith and my salvation more than I ever have. I started asking myself “Am I really going to Heaven,? I’m not good enough to get in. I haven’t done enough. The answer is No, I alone am not good enough, but through FAITH, I am saved by GRACE. Nothing I do will ever be enough to earn entrance into heaven. And even though I KNOW that, I still heard these nagging voices questioning myself, my faith and my role as a woman, wife, mother and friend. I wondered where are those nagging thoughts coming from? Why am I questioning the things that I know so well? I went to the PWOC International conference last year and attended a class led by Dawn Kennedy, who I believe is the Prayer Chair for PWOCI this year. That class really changed the way I think about those nagging thoughts. It helped me to understand a bit more about what is really going on inside my mind.

She spoke of the voices of God, Ourselves and Satan, what they sound like and how we can react to them. The message she gave me is one I’m going to share parts of with you. I don’t have time to cover an hour class in five minutes, but I can give you some points that helped me. I give all credit to the Lord for placing me in that class last year, because the message I am about to share with you is one that has saved my sanity many times over the past few months (and especially the past few days as I’ve been preparing this) and I know it will come in handy in the future too.

We all have an internal monologue… the voices that are running around inside your head narrating your day, etc. Dawn explained that this internal monologue isn’t only one voice. It isn’t just our own heart. There are three. God, ourselves, and the enemy. All three get jumbled around in our heads as we go about our day, mixing and mingling until we often don’t know whose voice is whose and which one we are supposed to be listening to. Was that the Father leading me in a certain direction, or was that Satan pulling me away from where I’m supposed to go? Or really, is it just the desires of my own sinful heart? Without a little armor, it could be really hard to tell the difference.

First, we know the lord speaks to us through the Holy Spirit. At Pentecost, (you will find this story in John Chapter 14) Jesus explained to his disciples of the things that were to come. They did not want to think about Jesus leaving them. They were afraid that without Jesus being around, they’d have no leader, no guide to help them. Jesus, always the loving reassurer, said to them in

John 14:16-17, “And I will pray the Father, and He will give you another
Helper, that He may abide with you forever – the spirit of truth, whom the world
cannot receive because it neither sees Him nor knows Him; but you know Him, for
He dwells with you and will be in you….(NKJV)

As long as we have faith, we have the gift of the Holy spirit to guide us and help us along the way. It’s easy to believe in God and His loving, gracious mercy. But sometimes, we have trouble believing the influence that the enemy has on our lives. Biblically, we know that the enemy is out there, messing with us.

1 Peter 5:8-11 says:

Be sober, be vigilant; because your adversary the devil walks about like a
roaring lion, seeking whom he may devour. Resist him, steadfast in the faith,
knowing that the same sufferings are experienced by your brotherhood in the
world. But may the God of all grace, who called us to His eternal glory by
Christ Jesus, after you have suffered a while, perfect, establish, strengthen,
and settle [you]. To Him [be] the glory and the dominion forever and ever.
Amen.(NKJV)

How do we tell God’s voice of the Holy Spirit from Satan’s voice or our own?

1. If we know what God sounds like, we can pick his voice out of the mish-mosh the three voices can create in our mind. We know that god’s Holy spirit speaks to us, but we also need to remember that God speaks the truth out of LOVE. Going back to John, Jesus promised his disciples, and He promises us, that we are not alone.

John 14:26-27.
But the Helper, the Holy Spirit, whom the Father will
send in MY name, He will teach you all things, and bring to your remembrance all
things that I said to you. Peace I leave with you, My peace I give to you; not
as the world gives I give to you. Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it
be afraid.”(NKJV)

2. We also know that when God speaks to us, He will not contradict scripture as he says in:

2 Timothy 3:16-17
All scripture is given by inspiration of God and is
profitable for doctrine, for reproof, for correction, for instruction in
righteousness, that the man of God may be complete thoroughly equipped for every
good work.(NKJV)

3. Other ways we can know it is God speaking is because He will not contradict His character, His hand will draw us to Jesus, and is gentle. Conviction is combined with truth, holiness love and Grace. We can see an example of this in:

Hosea 11:4
I drew them with gentle cords, with bands of love and I was
to them as those who take the Yoke from their neck. I stooped and fed
them.(NKJV)

He asks us to do many things, things we often don’t want to do, and convicts us when we resist, but it is always with love that He leads us, always knowing when we need to have that yoke removed, always knowing when we hunger and thirst. He draws US with GENTLE bands of LOVE. He removes the Yoke from our necks, takes away our worries and feeds us, because His goal is to strengthen, encourage, comfort, restore hope and bring LIFE.

So – we know God speaks out of LOVE using the spirit, does not contradict scripture or his Character, and seeks to bring us TO Jesus, not away. He convicts us with kindness. We can use this knowledge to test those voices and help tell us if that little thought or whisper in our mind is God speaking to us and convicting us, or someone else.

Now we go to Satan’s influence. We know He is messing with us, because we are told so 1 Peter, the devil prowls like a ROARING lion. We are to be able to hear him coming and seek shelter in our Lord.

Some things to remember about the enemy:

The enemy speaks truth mixed with error. He knows God, and He knows scripture. He tested Jesus in the desert and tried to use it against Him – if he was going to try to use scripture against Jesus, don’t you think he would try against us, people who are much more easily swayed? The enemy’s thoughts and words are centered in condemnation, predicting that dark future with no hope, accusing God, leading you away from Him.

Remember that the Enemy is sneaky about entering our thoughts. He doesn’t just crawl in and say, “Hi there! Satan here, I’m going to be playing with your emotions today.” He doesn’t show up to us as the cartoony devil on our shoulder either. If he did, we’d be able to see him coming too easily and fend him off. He slithers into our minds and tricks us into thinking that what HE is saying is OUR own thoughts. He replays the words that others say that hurt us over and over again, breaking us down. But one of the most effective things he does is that HE SPEAKS IN FIRST PERSON!!!!

Let me tell you how he speaks in first person. The past few weeks, I’ve been preparing for this devotion. Life got crazy busy. My quiet household turned into chaos, it is messy. I’ve not had time to do much other than ‘exist.’ My kids, who normally sleep pretty well have been getting up at night several times. Everything has been a bit off. The Lord knows us, but so does the Enemy. He knows I am weak when I haven’t had enough sleep and when I feel like my house is in shambles. Because my kids have been up nights, I’ve been sleep deprived and weak, allowing him to crawl in and say things like
“I’m not good enough to get up in front of these women.”

“Everyone else there knows more than you.”

“You know you’re going to quote an inappropriate scripture, or WORSE mis-quote one and distort the Word.”

“No one in the audience needs this message, they’re all CHRISTIAN, and don’t have to worry about these things. The enemy only attacks me.”

“Who do I think I am trying to teach people when I have so much left to learn?”

The devil tricked me into thinking I was hearing myself saying these things. I finally realized YESTERDAY after praying with a group of friends about my devotion, that here I am, about to tell all of these women how to fend off the Enemy! Of COURSE he’s going to play on my insecurities to try and keep me from delivering the message that the Lord has been placing on my heart.

These voices that are without hope, voices of fear and worry – they are not of God. They are not of you -- WE as humans have the desire to live and continue on! They are Satan trying to take your mind off of all of the good we have, trying to steer you into a downward “no-hope” spiral, draining our wells of the living water that is the Holy spirit.

Voices that say “I’m not good enough, Nobody likes me, NO one cares.” Those are the voice of the enemy.

What can you do about it? The best thing you can do is pray. Prayer is our first and best defense. We often try to do things ourselves, I think especially as “independent women” who were raised in the world to believe that we don’t need anyone’s help. But we’re told that if we ask, we shall receive:

Mark 11:24

Therefore I tell you, whatever you ask for in prayer, believe that you have
received it, and it will be yours.(NIV)

And I’ve found that when we pray against the enemy’s attacks, those prayers are often answered quickly.

Satan is real. He is here to mess with us, and trying to keep us from doing the Lord’s work. He tries to get us to confuse our thoughts with his words, he masquerades as the Lord in our mind, making us question ourselves, our faith and our motives. He replays other’s hurtful words in our minds, hoping we’ll focus on him and his goals, rather than those of the Lord.

Don’t let him mess with you. Recognize that prayer –even a small quick cry of help! – can send Satan on his way. Yes, the Lord will allow Satan to mess with us, but he won’t give us more than we can handle. Long before we’re tired he’ll remove the yoke from our necks and stop to feed us. Draw close to the Lord, and you’ll have no reason to fear. Remember what Jesus told his disciples:

Peace I leave with you,. Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be
afraid.

Yes, the enemy prowls around us, roaring like a Lion in our heads, telling us lies, but remember, the Lord is with us too.

In his kindness God called you to his eternal glory by means of Jesus
Christ. After you have suffered a little while, he will restore, support, and
strengthen you, and he will place you on a firm foundation.

Theological discussions with a 2 year old.

Mom, where is Kweenex? Is dat Kweenex house?

Kleenex is in heaven with Jesus, baby.

Kweenex on farm in heaven wif Jesus?

I think there's probably a nice place for her to play in heaven. Maybe Jesus plays fetch with her.

Mom, Jesus wiv in heaven?

Yes, baby.

Jesus take elemator (elevator) to heaven?

I don't think he needs an elevator to get to heaven.

He have a sweep (sleep) in heaven?

Yes.

He have a bed in heaven? Where is him bed?

Yes, he has a bed. It's probably in one of his many mansions.

Oh. Jesus come back here?

Someday, baby. Someday.

When Jesus coming?

Only Jesus knows.

Once upon a Time..

There was a family who visited a chain coffee place. Quite often. Their drink order rarely changed.

One day this family went through the drive through and ordered the usual thing -- Grande java chip frappuccino and a Venti Mocha frappuccino.

Remember this is a made up family and a made up coffee joint. Totally fictional. You can tell because the title of this post is "Once upon a time..."

Anyway -- this family ordered their usual order. The Mommy and Daddy in the family joked that they had come to this particular drive-thru location often enough that they were surprised they didn't ask if they had forgotten about the little one's 2% boxed milk.

When they pulled up to the window there was some commotion behind the counter when the family pulled up in their minivan, SUV. Yeah, they drove an SUV. Not a minivan. The cashier rung up a Grande Mocha and a Venti Java Chip, but the barista brewed drink artists suspected that what the family really wanted was a Grande Java Chip and a Venti Mocha. They took bets. Yes, yes, they did. And when this nice, normal, non-minivan owning family drove up, the cashier carefully asked what the family had ordered. Confused, the Daddy said "those" and pointed to the two frappuccinos on the counter. But the cashier persisted. "What drinks did you order?" When Daddy said Grande Java Chip and Venti Mocha, cheers went up behind the cashier. Why?

Because. The baristas brewed drink artists knew us, them. They knew the family's order so well, that they second-guessed the cashier's order and made what they knew we, I mean the totally fictional family wanted. And they were right.

And they all lived happily ever after.

The end.

**Any resemblance this totally fictional family has to my family is purely coincidental. Also, any resemblance the totally fictional coffee establishment has to a multi-national corporate coffee chain is also, completely coincidental. The vehicle in the story has been changed to protect Shmitty's reputation<./strike> the innocent.

Why God? We had a Deal!!

Remember that line from Friends when Joey turned 30? I'm having that conversation right now. We had a deal. I would get Babies. And I thought they would stay that way -- at least for a little while. Longer than they have. I didn't know they would only stay babies for a heartbeat. Time is going so fast.

My three month old baby girl (who is working on a good mad -- notice the red eyebrows?):

...is now rolling over, nearly sitting up for a few seconds on her own, (we place her there, and she maintains), AND today.... Today she pulled the handle on her little buzzy chair so it would sing Old McDonald. Three times. On purpose.

Isn't she supposed to be only eating, sleeping, pooping and crying at this point? Maybe a giggle every once in a while? I mean, she's not supposed to be putting her foot to my mouth so I'll blow raspberries on it. She's not supposed to be playing with toys like her friend Stretch the Giraffe, and a Crackly book. Is she? I certainly don't remember Little Monster doing all of these things this early! But then, I could be jaded and just hoping my baby will stay a baby a bit longer. I guess I'll just have to savor the noozles on my shoulder, the sweet smell of her breath and the sweetest sound of her baby giggle. Because, I'm afraid all too soon she'll be driving away to college.

That "Thing"

I have body issues. What woman doesn't right? After I got pregnant with Butterball, they melted away. I realized that I'm insane to think I'm fat or overweight or whatever, but that doesn't mean that I'm comfortable all the time.

1. I slump. I slouch, I have TERRIBLE posture. My posture is so bad and has been for so long that it almost hurts to stand up straight. It feels unnatural. It's awful. I notice that when I do stand up straight, I look a million times better.

2. I have post-pregnancy belly. I'm that gal you see walking down the street where you wonder if I'm just entering my second trimester, or if I'm just carrying a few extra pounds. I'm just carrying a few extra pounds. In the front. Where those two giant (9 lb10 oz, and 9 lb 7 oz) babies were. I have this flap of skin and fat that hangs. You think you have muffin top? I am that muffin that spilled out of the cup and is dripping off of the pan -- at least in front.

These two things make it difficult for me to feel comfortable in clothing. I need to find jeans that don't ride up to my armpits (I prefer lower-rise jeans, they don't pinch when you bend). I would like to find shirts that don't make my milk makers look funny or my tummy look like it's still housing children, or showing off my crack. I like my shirts longer. I don't do anything that's expensive, because I'm the cheapest person out there when it comes to clothing. I like to be pretty low maintenance, (no dry-clean only), but the screen printed T-shirts are no longer working for me to wear out. I want to look put together, polished. As if I didn't try to look nice but succeeded anyway. And yes, I'm aware. I'm only three months post-baby, but I feel like it's been so much longer. I'm ready to look like me again. And I need to figure out a way of hiding my gut before I wean, so that when I do it doesn't stick out further than the bumps that live above it.

Suggestions? Places to shop? Brands of clothing? Please. Tell me. I want to hear it all.

Fancy Fixins!

After we left church yesterday, NTM suggested we go to lunch. Our conversation on the way home:

We didn't have to go out to eat at a sit-down place, NTM.

I know. But I thought maybe you'd want to go out.

You mean, you wanted their salad and breadsticks?

No, I thought maybe you deserved to go out to a fancy restaurant for lunch.

So, you took me to Olive Garden?



*NTM requires that I tell you all that there are "Fancy" restaurants for movie stars, and McDonald's out here -- no chains or middle-ground sit-downs that wouldn't be crazy busy. We had to go to a nearby city to get to the Olive Garden.

Bedtime Singalong?

Lately, Little Monster has enjoyed a few good songs before he goes to bed. There is one specific song he gets every night, one I've sung to him since before he was born. Normally, I do this by myself, but tonight Not the Momma decided to join in.

After prayer, Little Monster asked to sing the P-O-A-I-O song. (We have no idea what that is. He's just trying to spell, and everything comes out with P-O-A at the beginning.)

So, simultaneously, NTM and I start singing Gloria

NTM & I: Glooooo ooooooo ria. In excelsis Deo, Gloooooooooo oooooooo ria in excelsis deee eeee oooo.

LM: Ting nother song.

NTM & I: jesus loves me this I know..... the bible tells me so...

LM: Um, dat scary song!! Sing Robot song! Me want boo-bot song.

NTM & I: tomo arigato mr. roboto! (simultaneously without planning!)

LM: Dat too scary. woo sing jeesus song 'gain.

What was really scary about the whole ordeal is that NTM and I had not planned to sing any of the songs, but that we both sang the same songs at the same time with no pre-planning. Perhaps we've been together in the same house for too long. It must be almsot time for him to go back to his real job.

Bedtime delay tactics.

Mommy. Woo sing me a song 'bout a Bee.

"ABCDEFG"

No! Mommy, data a wetter song. Me want woo sing me a bee song.

"I don't know a bee song.

Mommy. sing me a bee song. It goes. bzzz

A bee goes bzz, a bee goes bzz, every buggy makes a sound the bee says bzz

Mommy sing me an ant song.

the ants go marching 1 by 1 hoorah, hoorah.... (continue to the first verse)...

Mommy sing me a tatterpidder song.

I don't know a caterpillar song. You sing me a caterpillar song.

No, Mommy. Onwy woo sing a tatterpidder song. dat too hard a me. Woo sing tatterpidder song. Me not sing it. Woo sing it. Dat a me talkin' 'bout. A tatterpidder. O- TAY? A One time.

Some crazy made-up 2 line caterpillar song. Good night, I love you.

ni-night mommy. I wuv woo. I det up when da sun up?

Yes baby, I'll see you when the sun comes up in the morning.

Otay. Woo weeve door open wight. No mommy. dat not wight.

I adjust the door. Good night sweetie. I'll see you in the morning.

Dat wight mommy. night-night.

At least it isn't Barney

My 2 year old has a favorite song.



Only he sings it:

"I do it mine self!"

The full song:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=p-2X6jsHNVw

Things that make you go hmmmm

Mommy, me need wadder.

You need a letter? What?

No, Mommy. Me find mine softball. M need wadder, get it down. Wike Calliou. Calliou wooz wadder det apples out of twees. Me need wadder, get down mine ball.

No. You don't need a ladder. I'll get it down for you in a little bit.

No Mommy, me need wadder wight now. I flash him a look that says he's being too demanding. He bats his eyelashes and says TWEEEEEEZ!

I said No. I meant NO.

Otay. I get mine own wadder. I do it mine self.

He walks to the edge of the room and picks up a pretend ladder. After a minute, he re-enters the room.

See Mommy, me wooz wadder, me det down mine softball.

He is now holding the Nerf football he's been talking about. At this point, I decide it is worth disturbing the baby's eating to find out what he used for a ladder to get down the football. The football had been on a shelf over 6 feet up. So, I hoist Butterball, still nursing up and go into his room.

LM, show me your ladder.

See Mommy, dis mine wadder!

He holds up a gallon bucket that previously held ice cream, but now is supposed to hold puzzle pieces.

I wooz dis and I det down mine ball!!


This, this is something I don't think I want to know. I don't want to know how an EMPTY plastic ice cream bucket became a step to a ladder for a high shelf. I don't want to know what other things in the room he had to have used to get the football down. Maybe next time, I'll get him the ladder.

Dear Mommy,

Please don't ever cut my hair again. I know that with the trimmers, you're supposed to be able to, but really, you can't. Or if you do try, remember that no matter what the bangs look better before you mess with them.

Love, Little Monster.

The Weather.

As a kid, I lived for summer. It didn't have as much to do with a break from school as it did a break from cold weather. I loved wearing shorts, running through the sprinkler, swimming, and all of the fun activities summer brought. And when it got too hot to be outside, I loved coming into an air conditioned house, that slight smell of ozone filling the air, to curl up on the couch with a book.

We have summer here, in that we don't skip June, July or August, but the weather during the "summer" isn't what I'm used to. It's cool and foggy most days. Not warm enough to wear any fun summer clothes or fill up the inflatable pool for splashing and lazing in.

Every once in a while, though, there will be a glorious, "hot" summer day where the sun shines and the wind isn't coming off of the beach. The temp will be about 80 or so. Even rarer are when those days come on a weekend, when we don't have plans.

This past weekend, though the planets aligned and we had one glorious day of summer. We woke up early, got donuts at our favorite shop on the way down to the beach where we spent the morning riding our bikes along the coast. We grabbed a quick lunch during some light shopping, and then filled up our swimming pool and spent the afternoon in the front yard splashing and getting each other wet. At the end of the day, smelling of Coppertone and summer, we got subs for dinner, at ate outside before heading home to lounge inside in front of the TV barely able to stay awake for the heat and activities of the day.

It was a glorious, wonderful, heavenly summer day. And the next morning we woke up, opened the windows, and like a dream, the summer was gone. It had given way to the onshore flow, marine layer and fog. Summer, I miss you. Come back soon, okay?

With Love,

Happy Birthday Mom! You're the greatest. I can only hope I'm as good at being a mother as you.

What? What's that you Say?

First Read this Article about "The Third Man" phenomenon.





Why was there almost no mention of a possibility of the "God" factor?? I mean, COME ON! Do we really need to talk about who is there with is when we are at our lowest, our loneliest, our darkest hours? Do you really have to ask who that "third man" is? You can believe it's biochemistry, or some sort of brain thing making you "feel as though" you're not alone.

Some of us know the Truth -- that we are not alone. He is with us wherever we are, to provide comfort and guidance, especially in the circumstances they're describing in the article.

"Imagine the impact on our lives if we could learn to access this feeling at
will," he says. "There could be no loneliness with so constant a companion.
There could be no stress in life that we would ever again have to ­confront
alone."

Imagine. I think I may have heard something about this somewhere before?

Deuteronomy 31:6

"Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid or terrified
because of them, for the LORD your God goes with you; he will never leave you
nor forsake you."

Joshua 1:9

"Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not be
terrified; do not be discouraged, for the LORD your God will be with you
wherever you go."

Today I'm grateful that we're not alone. I know my mom was a few days ago. She was driving down the road when her Check Engine light came on. She stopped at my Dad's shop on the way home. He ran all of the checks, but the light never came on for him. Her car was fine. She left the shop and proceeded home. There was a huge accident at the major intersection near her house. The intersection she would have proceeded through at about the time the accident occurred -- had her Check Engine light not come on. We're not alone people.

IMpossible!

right? It has to be impossible that thinking it is funny to MOON people is something that is bred into little boys, right?



please, please, please.



This morning, Little Monster walked into my office while I was working. I had asked him to put his underwear and shorts back on after he used the toilet. It appeared as if he had done neither. He showed me his underwear and then said:



"there's a car in my underwear"



"There's a car in your underwear?"



"No Mommy. See!" (He turns to show me the thing who is on the butt of his underwear. Then he bent over and pulled down his underwear, revealing his round little bottom. He giggled and ran away.



Where do they learn this stuff? We're pretty protective about what he watches on TV. PBS, Sprout, Noggin... I can't imagine Little Bill running around mooning people. I'd bet it was Calliou. Or that Moose guy who hangs out with Zee. He's always been a little suspicious to me, never letting Zee get a word in. Yeah, I'd bet it was Mortimer Moose.

And now it's our turn.

Do you remember when you didn't have kids? Do you remember when you used to know everything about raising kids? When you knew what rules your kids were going to follow, how they were going to behave outside of the house?








Isn't it funny how that all changes when you actually have kids? You become that parent that lets their child sass just a little bit, because it isn't worth the argument. The sticky chocolate fingers and vanilla bean frappucinno because they've been good all day seem a little less indulgent.






I used to know it all. My kid was never going to be that kid. The one with a holey pair of jeans, dirty fingernails, pajama shirt and messy hair running around the store making obnoxious airplane noises. Sometimes the Lord teaches us a lesson in humility by putting us in the place of those we have judged. I know I judged one too many parents in my single, child-free days. I apologize to all of those well-meaning, tired parents who just didn't have it in them. I apologize to those parents who really didn't think it mattered if their kid looked like a dork in sandals three sizes too big, a pair of jeans with a hole in the knee, T-shirt tucked into their spiderman underwear, Batman pajama shirt with cape and goofy sunglasses on if he was happy.




Yeah, I really sincerely do. And it has nothing to do with the fact that recently we left the house in sandals several sizes too big because they are his rocket boots. The fact that he wore those "rocket boots" to Costco with upside down, red goggle sunglasses meant for babies --his "race car goggles" -- has not influenced the decision to write such an apology. Neither has the fact that maybe we have left the house in pajamas, because it was too much of a fight to convince the kid that he wasn't superman or batman or whatever caped crusader he went to bed as the night before. None of those things have led me to publicly apologize to all of those I have secretly judged before.


Isn't it amazing how much you learn about other parents when you become one?

Ninety Eight Percent Complete

After days and days of cleaning poop from walls, toilets, legs, feet, hands, arms, trash cans, sinks, carpets, and potty chairs, we're almost done.

Little Monster has successfully gone in the potty with only a couple of accidents. During this training period, we've put him to the test too. We've disrupted our schedules, traveled long distances and given him full strength apple juice (creator of one of the accidents).

He's gone through more nights than not without using his pull-up and refuses to soil himself if possible. (It wasn't possible to avoid the accident after the apple juice).

So, I guess it's time I take him to the potty train. When he started yelling at me to change his diapers saying "I need a diaper change!" I told him it was time to be potty trained. He misunderstood and believed that there is an actual potty train. I tried passing off the caboose at the KOA we recently stayed at, but it didn't cut it.

So, the potty train trip is planned. Stay tuned.

How can you say no...

to this face??

We can't. We're in trouble. Big Trouble.

It's coming!

I grew up in a small-ish town. A town where when you went out to shop or eat, you were likely to run into someone you knew. It was annoying sometimes, but usually it just makes you feel like you're home.

Each time we move, I wait for the place to feel like home. Our house usually feels like home pretty quickly. I am quick to unpack and arrange, slower to decorate, but we know that "home" is where the family is. It can be in an apartment, a detached home, or between duty stations, our fifth wheel.

To get the area to feel like home, often takes quite a bit longer. Often, I have to find out where we 'fit in' to the community. We need to get to know how to get around the area without consulting maps, find our favorite restaurants, shopping centers, etc. I love it when I finally find that sense of community -- when wherever we live becomes like that small town I grew up in. I am always amazed when I start running into people I know when we're out and about.

I do get a bit sad, though, at the same time. Each time a place has become home, every time I start finding friends at Target, the grocery store and the take-and-bake pizza place, it means our time at that location is drawing to a close. It happened in Virginia Beach, and it's now happening here. Twice in one week I've been out and run into people I know. Are we really that close to a PCS? Where did the time go? Didn't we just get here? No. The area just became home -- I know my way around and friends are everywhere. The time to move is fast approaching. And although I'm excited about a new coast, a new climate and a new home, I'm saddened to leave another area that has become home.

Reasons for Laughter

Daddy takes LM to the potty -- in a public restroom. Potty training is working!

He helps LM to use the toilet. Then tells LM to wait patiently while he uses the bathroom himself.

As Daddy is washing his hands, LM asks:

"Daddy, did you get all your pee pee out?"

Yes, Little Monster.

"Good Job Daddy!!!!"

Conversations

(Whispering)

Me: LM, Go bug Daddy now.

LM: No, I budding woo white now.

Me: I think it's Daddy's turn.

LM: No, It still yours turn.

I'd like to tell you a story...

But I think it's cuter coming from Little Monster...

Wast Night Dwami and Dwampa tum in airpwane. Dey tum in bwoo airpwane. And when Dwampa dwives eveebuddy say "aaaah, we all die! We twash!" And wast night we go wif twaiwer to mountains. In da mountains we went on dadenture for tweasure. Tweasure wike sticks and tine tones. And we see dween birds. And I hold one. Den we go twimming in da pull. I pwash and pwash and dwampa a shark! AAAH! Dwampa det me!! And me get apple boose and i need doop in mine pullup. I no want doop in mine pullup, but apple boose hurt in mine tummy. Me go on potty twain. Den we brock off Dwami and Dwampa in da airpork. Dey fwy home to eh-eh-ehbwasta. And I doop in da potty. and I get one deterdem (M&M). But me want big chalk-it. Big chocate me big wike YOOOOOOU!!! Dat a me talkin' bout.

Did you catch any of that? He speaks pretty fast. Here's the translation:

We've been busy the past week. We picked up Grami and Grampa from the airport and headed East to Yosemite. Mommy and Daddy tried to teach me that when Grampa was driving I was supposed to say "AAH! We're all gonna Die! We're gonna Crash!" But instead I just ratted them out and told Grampa I was supposed to say that when he drove.

We spent our first day in Yosemite without Not the Momma, but it was fun anyway. We went on a "treasure adventure!" Mommy made up a "treasure map" so that I would know to look for some things. At the end of the map, when we got home, he'd find real treasure -- Daddy!! On our adventure we saw an avalanche,

A waterfall:

BIG ROCKS!!! They were THIS big!

We climbed on even more rocks!

Look how much fun I'm having on my adventure! Don't you love my "jungle hat?" Grampa loves the new one we bought him. They FLOAT!

Butterball wasn't sure about the heat. She's never felt anything this hot in her whole life. Mommy almost went insane because she cried about the heat so much. This is what she thought about the cold nights and hot afternoons:


One day during the trip, Grami, Grampa and Daddy went on their own Adventure! Mommy said it was too long and too scary for me and Butterball so we had to stay back at the trailer. I think they all had a good time though.

I can't believe Daddy climbed up this despite the Danger! He's a superhero!


Here's Grampa right before they climbed up the scary, scary cables at the top of Half Dome:


Here's Daddy on the cables. Grami stayed behind for this stuff because it was extra scary! Daddy has a jungle hat just like mine. I think he wants to be cool like me.



Grami had fun though, and they saw lots of pretty scenery:

I was really good and didn't use my pull ups the whole time. I was a big boy and used the potty. Everyone was proud of me. Butterball cried a lot, but Grampa was the cure for all of her tears. She loves him very much and stopped crying every time he held her. See, here's Grampa holding her. Isn't she cute? I like that outfit on her. Grampa is wearing his new floaty hat too. I'm glad he likes it. It took me forever to pick it out. Mommy got tired of standing in the store while I dug through the racks.


When we got back from our adventure in the mountains we found my friend George at Fisherman's Wharf. He let me hold his bird. I was scared, but I didn't let on too much.

We went swimming twice while they were here. Once at the campground, and once at home. I had a ton of fun both times. Grampa swims like a shark, but I'm a shark hunter, so that's okay. I was scared at first, but he helped me get past it and he helped me jump into the pool a bazillion times. I even got to spend some time with just Grampa in the pool here at home. That was the best!

After we went swimming, we had to take Grami and Grampa back to the airport so they could go home to Nebraska. It was sad, but Grampa shared his snickers, so it was a little better. It was a lot of fun having Grami and Grampa here. I hope they'll visit us again so that we can have even more fun adventures together!