Wordless Wednesday -- Western Edition...

One day he announced he was a "boo boy." We were confused, as of course he's a good boy. Then he promptly put on his cowboy hat and commenced to becoming the next (and way cuter) John Wayne. I tried to narrow them down, but people he's like Lay's potato chips. You can't stop after just one!

Not Me Monday

Since I forgot last week (and silly me, it was a contest week) I'm catching up!

I did not spend almost an entire night staring at my 2 year old while he stared at me defiantly resisting sleep. I also did not give up around 4AM and told him he’d get a spanking if he got out of bed before the sun came up. Nor did I go back in when the child was so desperate he asked for the spanking so he could come to bed with me. I didn’t go back in there and sit with him for a few more minutes until I couldn’t sit anymore. I did not allow him to have water and goldfish crackers in bed to buy sleep either. I am not considering put the child into his toy room and sleeping on the couch until noon.

I did not put my 2yo into his toy room so I could nap and instead spent a ton of time making a baby registry full of pink things I’m not allowed to buy. Nor did I lay down when I was done with that and laugh at the sound of my 2yo singing the theme songs to all of the Playhouse Disney shows he so much enjoys. I did not enjoy listening to “whoa whoa woovers!” and “igger and pooh… pooh pooh pooh” and “dot dog dot dog yeah yeah” over and over again. I did not worry just a little bit when the them for Tigger and Pooh became a song about poop. I did not spend the rest of my ‘nap’ wondering how a kid who was up as much as I was last night has the energy to run around yelling ‘whoa whoa woovers!’ at the top of his lungs for ten minutes while beating on a leap frog drum.

I did NOT laugh when my 2 year old (who has not decided that sleeping through the night is for the dogs) who was sleeping in my bed after a nightmare rolled over into my hair and then said “hee hee hee … Kleenex! Ha ha ha” in his sleep.

I did not spend an hour outside a bounce house gymnasium waiting desperately for them to open so that I could let my kid bounce out some energy. I did not take him for ice cream and a run at the park when the place never opened.

I did not leap for joy when the doctor said my glucose was great and that I wasn’t anemic. And I certainly did NOT almost cry when my doctor told me I was measuring 2cm ahead and while looking at my son said “but honey, you’re not going to make a seven pound baby.” My husband did not almost start laughing when he noticed I almost started crying. That scenario did NOT play out in about 3 seconds.

I am not considering begging for a C-section just because I’m irrationally terrified of giving birth to a giant this time, nor am I thinking how nice it would be to schedule it so the husband can give definitive dates to work, and we can just go ahead and get a tubal ligation done at the same time. I would never consider those things.

I also did not nearly begin to cry when my husband was 8 minutes late coming from his office for the doctor appointment because I forgot my phone and couldn’t remind him and there was nowhere to park within 500 yards of the building he was in. The feeling that I needed to cry did NOT begin at 10:02. I am NOT on some sort of hormonal roller coaster.

I did not let my son skip dinner when he wanted to watch the “Buzz Movie” instead. I did not shut off the Buzz Movie while telling him it was dinner time, which did NOT cause a bunch of crying. That crying did not turn into my son passing out on the couch, which I did NOT take pictures of. We did not wake him up and take him to Target and then bribe him with cookies so he’d be good.

I did not spend nearly an hour doing figure 8s and circles in my driveway on a bicycle at 28 almost 29 weeks pregnant because I couldn’t bear to tell my toddler no when he said “Mommy ride bike too? Pleeeeeeeeeeease!!” in his cute little two-year-old lisp.
I was not lazy and did not tell a naked two-year-old to go ‘pick out clothes’ after he got his dirty. ‘Picking out clothes’ does not require that he go upstairs by himself, open one drawer for pants and another for shirts. I was not amazed when he came back with a totally normal looking outfit that did not involve blue lion printed pajamas with feet.

I did not call the IRS to find out what to do if my tax preparer has been sitting on my completed taxes for over a month without filing them. I did not call that tax preparer’s supervising department to complain and find out why my taxes have been sitting on someone’s desk for a month rather than being filed. I did NOT stump the guy at the IRS, because he’s not NEVER HEARD OF THIS HAPPENING BEFORE. I am not so angry about the whole situation that it makes me feel just a bit guilty as a Christian. I also did not tell the preparer’s supervising agency that I did not CARE that the preparer was a “volunteer.” I DID however WANT to tell them that my mother volunteers to save people’s lives and stop their houses from burning down but she doesn’t stop half way through and decide it’s just “too much hard work” or whatever excuse he’s using no matter how hard the job gets… And that signing a piece of paper, and clicking “send” on a computer after reviewing it for mistakes is a heck of a lot easier than what she does.

I did not feel guilty after swatting my dog for eating baby wipes she found to hear “Mommy – don’t hit Kleenex, that’s not nice” from my two year old. (In two-year-old speak of course.)
I am not terrified that in two weeks I’ll be leading a bible study discussion on the book of 1John. I do not feel completely and totally incompetent and unprepared for that to begin. I most certainly do NOT think I’ve gotten in over my head and have NOT been praying that I don’t mess everyone else in the class up.

I did not buy my son a $1.00 packet of stickers and watch as he laboriously removed every. single. one. And put them on his shirt and pants before we even left the store. I did NOT treasure the concentrated look on his face as he peeled the stickers back OR the quiet time it provided.

I did not eat (homemade) chocolate chip cookies instead of a meal three times this week.
Does not love how when Little Monster says ‘bounce’ it comes out BOUNCH in a funny little way.

I did NOT unintentionally post this because a certain little two year old was pulling on my arm and made me accidentally hit the "enter" button before I could schedule the post!!!!

Life in our house lately...

Do you feel sorry for my husband yet?

You haven't lived until...

You spend over thirty minutes looking in your two-year-old's nose with a flashlight, trying to determine if that thing you see is a booger or a goldfish cracker. You then call your mother, who is an EMT to determine if it's safe to let said booger or goldfish cracker naturally find it's way out since it is jammed past the soft part of the nose thanks to teeny fingers being jammed 3/4 of the way up there (and probably a nose sucker and a Qtip and my finger -- only you're trying to get the thing out, rather than lodging it in there). When she doesn't answer, you try to call your husband who is working late to see what his perspective is, since it is probable that because you are pregnant and a bit hormonal that perhaps you're over reacting. After getting dressed (at 5:30PM) and contemplating taking a shower before driving your kid to the ER to have booger/cracker removed, you decide to chase the child around the house with a Kleenex in an attempt to get him to blow his nose. The only problem is the kid hasn't been sick enough to KNOW how to blow his nose properly. He sucks in, bringing the cracker up further. Your mom calls back and determines that since goldfish crackers dissolve a bit, you can wait and see what happens. Just in time for the kid to sneeze and launch snotty, soggy goldfish cracker chunks all over your clean bed.

I hadn't lived until yesterday folks. If I die tomorrow, I know my life will be complete. That is, until I decide to give Little Monster raisins for snack.

These are better.

I promise. Saturday Little Monster helped Daddy give the truck a bath. He ended up getting one too despite the cool temperatures. If you promise not to judge us for washing our car even though much of the area is hurting for water (we aren't on base, we make our own water or something) or letting our 2 year old get soaking wet with freezing water when the temp was below 70, I promise not to show you the pictures of goldfish cracker jammed so far up his nose you need a flashlight to see it.

Good. It's a deal.

Hormones -- they are a changin'

I don't know what the difference is from one day to the next, but lately my life has been a roller coaster ride. I go from happy to mad to OHMYLORDJUSTSTOPTOUCHINGMELEAVEMEALONE to weeping because I need hugs from my guys and they're both down-right scared of me. I'm pretty sure it has something to do with the pregnancy and the extra 'girl' hormones raging through my body.

The other day I was not having a good day. I felt icky. Icky enough to spend most of the morning in bed while I let Little Monster watch way too much television and paid way to little attention to him. And then, all afternoon he drove me nuts with his clinging. He sat next to me, wrestled me and snuggled me all day. Either in my bed, while I was trying to get work done on the computer, while I was trying to cook dinner. He needed to be touching me ALL DAY LONG. And it got old. Unfortunately for my husband, it usually gets REALLY old right about the time he gets home. Perhaps it has something to do with having to split my affection between two people suddenly. Maybe it's because I feel internal pressure to be the 'perfect' person who has dinner on the table by a certain time. Who knows. I just feel bad that lately I've been blowing up right around dinner time. I'd like to blame it on the clinging of Little Monster and his ability to run around the house like a hyper little monkey, but I really think it's my problem.

Why? Because yesterday was no different. I did feel a little better so we didn't lounge in bed all morning. (By the way, Little Monster's idea of 'lounging in bed' is really climbing in and out, jumping on me, and running around the room for the majority of the morning.) But yesterday, I didn't stress and get upset when I suggested lunch and Little Monster said "No!" I didn't worry about it as much when he wanted to be sitting in my lap while I worked at the computer. When he wanted to sit in the laundry basket playing with empty plastic bottles it was no big deal. I didn't get upset when he got into the pantry and pulled out the pudding, brought it to me and said "Mommy? Cook Pudding?" Instead, I suggested that we make it after we ate lunch. We ate lunch, and I helped him make some pudding. It was fun. He had a blast -- both making and eating it. And while we were waiting for timer to go off to signify that the pudding was done, I got to hear him yell "PUDDING TIME! YAY!" every time something in our house beeped.

I don't know what makes the days so different. Is it because the sun was trying to come out yesterday and it wasn't raining? Is it because despite the horrible day the other day I did manage to get half the house cleaned, and I've at least gotten some of the clutter taken care of? Perhaps it's the looming weekend and plans for fun and relaxation along with the knowledge that if the house is clean for the weekend, I won't spend the entire time stressing about the dog hairs in the carpet and the dishes in the sink?

Whatever the reason, I hope I can have more days like yesterday. And soon. Because these days when I have a little more patience, when the silly Little Monster I love is silly instead of naughty (I don't think there's much of a difference day-to-day here), days when I will be able to greet Not the Momma with a smile when I see him at the end of the day -- they are much nicer than the other days.

UPS - Take Notice

HI! How are you? I appreciate that you drive a brown delivery truck and bring me all kinds of goodies! I LOVE it when you show up with your packages wrapped in brown boxes. It feels like Christmas every time -- even though I generally know what's in the box.

So, please forgive me for being frustrated with the fact that you come like a thief in the night. The last three times you have arrived with things we've been waiting for, there has been no knock, no doorbell ring, no nothing. At this point, I wouldn't be surprised if you threw the packages out of the truck as you drove past exceeding our 15 mph speed limit at 35mph.

Forgive me if I'm a bit irritated that a package I've been waiting for sat on my front porch overnight because you came AFTER my husband returned home from work at 5:30 PM and we didn't go anywhere for the evening. I'm glad the package was still there this morning when he left for work.

Please don't be alarmed when, if this should happen again, I contact your company to let them know (as if they'll care) how irritated I am. It has been raining for days and days and days, and you threw my box onto my sopping wet doorstep to sit and soak overnight. All because you were too lazy to put your finger out and ring a doorbell or knock. I don't care if you stick around for coffee and conversation, just ring and go. It's fine. But at least let me know you've been here. So that my books don't end up soaked with 4 day old rain, or the box bottom doesn't fall off when I go to bring it inside, OR so that I can get it off of my front porch before someone else takes off with my child's beloved Pocoyo DVD.

I like you UPS. You bring me nice things. Please tell me when you've been here so that I can like you even more.

The end.

I wanna be mad.

But it's hard. Especially when I encouraged the behavior. The other morning as Little Monster and Not the Momma were wrestling in bed, I told Little Monster to lick Daddy's arm. It was really to help him get out of a head lock.

The problem is, now he's licking me. And I don't like it. So it's really all my fault. I can't blame anyone else.

Plus, how can I stay mad at this?

Yipee!!

Hooray for double digits!!!!!

I know the second I give birth I will regret not treasuring this pregnancy more. I will miss the little cute squirms that I get about 10% of the time that I can feel baby girl move, and I will forget that last night as I was eating my grilled cheese sandwich (lovingly prepared by my husband who makes a killer one) she tried to reach out and grab it. I will forget that she nearly did touch the sandwich and that she took my breath away, made me wince and almost brought tears to my eyes with one little movement. As soon as my womb is empty I will regret that I didn't enjoy those painful moments more. I did last time.

But who cares. 99 days people... I'm hoping for more like 92, but double digits are official today! HOO-RAY. Now let's pray. Because as we're in the double digits it means the third "uncomfortable" trimester is about to begin. If the second trimester is any starting point for what 'uncomfortable' is going to be, I'm going to try to fall asleep and not wake up until some time in June.

Seriously, though. It's exciting isn't it?

Not Me Monday?

A blog I've taken to reading, My Charming kids, has started a Monday Bloggy Carnival. And like everything else I start, I'm not sure I'll finish it or be consistent about it, but I'd like to participate when I can.

The Carnival is called "Not Me Monday."


It's a silly fun carnival that anyone can do. You just talk about all the stupid things you wish you hadn't done or been caught doing as though you didn't do them. Er, I mean you talk about all of the things that you most certainly did not do during the week. You can click on the image above and it should take you to a sort of intro.

This week we did not spend way too much money on baby girl clothing while waiting for an installation at Best Buy that happened because we didn't have anything cheaper planned for the day.

I did not laugh uncontrollably until I nearly wet myself and could not breathe in the car because Little Monster screamed as loud as I have ever heard him in response to one of Not the Momma's animated stories. I did not have trouble regaining composure. And I most certainly did not ignore the scream that came from the back seat when I should have talked to Little Monster about loud noises in the car.

I did not vacuum my driveway after cleaning out, Schmitty. I did not not vacuum my driveway because I didn't want the neighbor to think know we're slobs. I also did not wear myself out cleaning out the van and pass out on the couch later in the day while Little Monster ran free in the house to do as he pleased.

We did not forget to feed Little Monster lunch Sunday because we were too busy looking for one of fifteen things we should have laying around the house that would make the printer work. After not forgetting to feed him lunch, we did not let him eat fruit snacks instead.

I did not purchase a gift for my sister I should have purchased almost six months ago.

Little Monster did not bite my butt again this week.

I did not look at a skein of yarn for oz rather than yards when figuring a pattern, pick a yarn I loved, and then proceed to grow to hate the yarn because it's hard to work with and realize that I only bought enough to do 1/3 of the project. I most certainly did not spend more money on the project than I wanted to in the first place.

I did not fall in love with an office chair that I bought to replace the dining chair I've been sitting in.

I did not abandon my husband while he played video games on Friday night to go sit and crochet with the gals at church to return two hours later and find him asleep before 11PM with all of the windows open, the fan on and extra blankets on the bed. I did not grumble as I shut the windows turned the fan of and removed the extra blankets.

I did not let Little Monster put on pajamas in the middle of the afternoon after we bought them, and then let him continue to wear them when he had a bad diaper explosion that leaked on them. I did not use baby wipes to clean the poo off of the coveted batman pajama shirt instead of throwing it in the washer because it was easier than the tantrum that would have followed.

What didn't you do this week?