Monday, February 28, 2011

Some Girl Peed on My Son's Head

The weather was gorgeous today so E. and I went to the park. 

Who just happened to be walking under the jungle gym at the exact spot and the exact moment a little girl decided she couldn’t hold it any longer?  That would be my son.

What are the odds?  Out of all the kids at the playground, E. was the one that got peed on.  He was un-phased by it all, but I was completely grossed out and at a loss for what to do.  I thought about going up to her mother and saying, “Excuse me, Ma’am.  Your daughter just peed on my son’s head.  I think she owes him an apology.”  But, she looked stressed out enough already.

Is this scenario in the mom handbook?  Did I miss it somehow?  I might have skipped over it because I thought it would NEVER happen.  But, I guess motherhood is full of surprises and this won’t be the last.

Sunday, February 27, 2011

Serious Silly Arguments

Two days ago, Dave and I had an impassioned argument over Hawaiian shirts.  That’s right.  Hawaiian shirts. 

I know (or hope) we are not the only couple who has silly fights.  What’s the craziest thing you’ve fought about?
           
I loathe Hawaiian shirts.  Their bright colors and large flowers screaming Look At Me.  In fourth grade I had to answer the question of what I would do if I was queen.  Back then I said I would have oatmeal every day (I know, dream big, right?)  If I answered the question again right now I would ban Hawaiian shirts everywhere except Hawaii.  If you visit Hawaii, you can rent a Hawaiian shirt, but you can’t take it home with you.  That’s my rule and I'm queen, remember? 

Or, if you’re like my husband and you worked as a water park supervisor for years and your faded green Hawaiian shirt has sentimental value, you should take a picture and be done with it—not wear it out in public where you will embarrass your wife with your obnoxious flower-print shirt.  I’m getting all riled up again just thinking about it. 

I am probably the least sentimental person I know (except maybe my mother).  Every six months I purge my house of whatever we haven’t used and is taking up space.  I arm myself with my goodwill trash bag and take up my battle with clutter.  And, by golly, that Hawaiian shirt is standing between me and victory. 

Hey, that sounds pretty good…  Maybe I’ll bring that up tonight since the Hawaiian shirt fight remains at a standstill.


Monday, February 21, 2011

Yo' Mama

Right now I am writing in a coffee shop in my hometown.  A spunky little girl sits at the table next to mine.  She looks about five or six, sports a shirt that says Totally Cool, and is outclassing her two older brothers by telling yo’ mama jokes.  Yo' mama's so fat she sat on a rainbow and skittles popped out.

Her mother apparently is not taking the jokes personally.  Unphased, she studies her personal planner at another table.  I imagine she is penciling in an activity for tonight: Teach Abigail the finer points of etiquette, i.e. not to tell yo’ mama jokes in public.  Or perhaps: Teach Abigail more yo’ mama jokes, ones people haven’t heard before.  I guess it depends on what she takes more pride in. 

Wikipedia says yo’ mama insults are especially likely to incite violence.  Should I be worried?  I thought they were a thing of the nineties and they went out of style like Vanilla Ice and bowl cut hairstyles.  I guess I was mistaken.  The art of maternal insult lives on.

Friday, February 11, 2011

'Nuff Said Friday

I'm going to start 'Nuff Said Fridays.  I'll post a picture that requires no explanation.

Here's one for today:

AW2AW5X3SPYX

Wednesday, February 9, 2011

Homemade Vanilla Recipe

Did you know it's super easy (and a lot cheaper) to make your own Vanilla?  I love this recipe so I thought I'd share!

Ingredients:

2-4 Vanilla Beans (They look like sticks)
1 cup Vodka



1.  Buy Vanilla Beans.  They are usually available at your local heath food store and sometimes Target or certain grocery stores.
2.  Buy Vodka (if you don't already have it...)
3.  Pick out a jar.  I usually use a jelly jar.  A clear jar is preferable so you can see how dark your vanilla is.
4.  Put Vanilla sticks in jar (I break them into thirds first).  Add Vodka. 
5.  Place jar of vanilla in a cupboard and shake it every once in a while. 
6.  Enjoy your pure Vanilla and the satisfaction that you just saved yourself a lot of money.



*Adapted from Ruth Yaron's recipe in Super Baby Food

Wednesday, February 2, 2011

Can You Say Mommy?

This is a transcript of an actual conversation last night.


Mommy: E., Can you say snack?

E.: nac

M: Can you say shoes?

E.: oos

M: Can you say diaper?

E.: doo doo

M: Can you say guitar?

E.: lu-lar

M: Can you say Mommy?

E.: doo doo


I guess I know where I stand.

Tuesday, February 1, 2011

A Long, Long Walk

I remember E’s first steps: arms outstretched for balance like Frankenstein, toddling a foot or two, and then falling into our arms, giggling with the glee of accomplishment.  Now all he wants to do is walk, or more often, run.

Dave and I took a day trip to a random city on his day off a little while ago and E. would have nothing to do with the stroller.  When in it, he screamed as if it was an electric chair and not a lovely invention meant to get parents where they want to go in a reasonable amount of time.  No, E. had to walk with his fleshy little hand gripping my index finger. 

After the first couple blocks I couldn’t imagine going any slower and then E. found a way.  He decided to bend down and feel the sidewalk every three feet.  And then, it got even more leisurely when he engaged in his first imaginative play.  This involved pretending to pick up something off the ground and eat it.  I thought about shouting to the cars and fellow pedestrians, “He’s not really eating. He’s pretending. I don’t let my kid eat rocks. Really, I don’t.”

And for that matter, where was he getting the idea from?  It’s not like I go around picking stuff off the ground and eating it. Really. I don’t.  (Maybe Dad???)

E. did show me that sometimes it’s nice to dawdle, hold hands with someone you love, and pretend the ground is covered with blueberries just waiting to be eaten.



P.S. Turtle's eye is almost all better.