That with which I am unequiped

I wasn't going to blog this story but my friend Kim said it was too funny not to, so, it's her fault.

Jonathan's out of town (read: its just me wrestling the boys every night.) This never makes for a fun week, or day or really even an hour. I think our boys need at least two parents. Probably more would be better.

A couple of nights ago, as I was struggling to get Chubalicious out of the bath tub and MRA in to it (trust me, its easier than both in the bath at the same time, really), I look over to see MRA fondling his nether regions. To which I say:

Me: MRA, what are you doing?
MRA: Mama, see my big BOULDERS!
ME: What?
MRA: See my BIG boulders!
Me: Uh, those aren't boulders, buddy.
MRA: Oh, what are they then?
Me: Uum, well, (fumbling) those are called testicles (matter-of-factly.)
MRA: Oh, well, I think there's a BIIIG ball of chocolate in there.

Let me just tell you that there is absolutely no way of hearing that and keeping a straight face.

Have a great weekend!

Wordless Wednesday

And You Wonder Why I Don't Nap

Last Saturday I indulged in a very rare and long overdue treat. A nap. A nap with my husband.

Chubalicious was down and the Notorious MRA was having some quiet time, very quietly. So I fell asleep. It wasn't that kind of deep sleep where you wake up and feel refreshed. It was more that kind of sleep that while you are asleep you are still thinking and wondering if you really are, indeed, asleep.

I was thinking/dreaming I was having the carpets cleaned. And it was a good nice.

I heard MRA poke around downstairs a couple of times but he was really quiet so I did not get up and just kept on lying there wondering if I was asleep.

Once Chubalicious woke up, though, nap time was over and MRA wanted to show us what he'd been doing.

Jonathan quickly found 2 empty yogurt containers scattered around the living room so we knew he had been snacking, but what else???? After bouncing down the stairs with a stack of papers, MRA invited us to view his art.

MRA: Here are the tracks my toy dinosaur made across the paper.
Me thinking: Yep, looks like tracks, wait... shit, where did you get paint?

 

MRA: Oh, and look Mama at this one - these are my hands.

Me thinking (still sleepily) - Those ARE your hands - wait, did he put his hands in paint?

Then came...
Me: MRA? Are those your feet?
He was VERY proud.

 

Then the indisputable evidence. I asked him how he did it and he proudly confrmed that he painted his feet. 

 

I wish I had taken a photo of the carpet before I cleaned it up. I was thankful for washable paint but mostly really proud of his resourcefulness.

 

Sunday morning he painted all our feet! See if you can guess whose toes belong to who tomorrow!

Would-be Wordless Wednesday!

It is supposed to be wordless, I know. But since I am posting on time and that hasn't happened in a while, well... I just had to say something. Nothing profound or all that funny, but, I am on time!

And to celebrate, I offer TWO photos from last weekend in Orlando. Perhaps tomorrow I can actually find a few minutes to tell you about it!

 

Happy 8th Anniversary To Us

Yesterday was our eigth wedding anniversary! We have made it eight years! We are taking a long weekend in a few weeks for our anniversary so I really wasn't expecting anything AND I was sick so the day wasn't as wonderful and romantic as one might think.

So on my way home I call Jonathan and I am complaining that we should have tried to mark the day better even though I was sick. I am going on and on about the fact that its important and I feel bad that all I did was send flowers and we really should try harder to mark the day with something special even though we are going away soon. And he is letting me go on and on.

And I get home to...

 

I decided to leave it all in place so the boys could see it and they would know that Daddy does nice things for Mama. Let me tell you, they were fascinated. The Notorious MRA mad it halfway through the garage (that's where the trail started) and, with hands on hops, questioned, "Who made this mess?"

 

Chubalicious, on the other hand, came in and immediately started picking up the petals. When he got to my room (where I was standing) he said, very sweetly, "Mama. rose petals made a mess on the floor."

That's when they discovered the food on the bed and the gift.

 

And proceeded to eat half of my chocolates and tear open the gift. The gift was a gift card to a spa that I have wanted to try out and something I am so thankful for.

 

The Notorious MRA, saw the picture of the spa on the brochure that was included and declared it a magical room (yes, I hope so, buddy.) He also declared that he wants to go with me (not a snowball's chance in hell, buddy).

 

Thank you, LB for the wonderful surprise. You always seem to know just when I need it the most. I love you!

Advice From Chubalicious

This has happened twice recently and again this morning as I was leaving the house:


Me: Bye Buddy. I love you!
Chubalicious: Wait. One more kiss.
Me: Ok, hurry up. (lots of smooches)
Me: Have a good day at school today.
Chubalicious: Ok, Mama. Don't bite your friends.


A good thing to remember when working with the public, right?

And I Ran, I Ran So Far Awaaayy

I ran a half marathon last weekend. All 13.1 ridiculous miles. My first. Likely not my last. It's my sister-in-laws fault. She had signed up to walk it with some friends and caught me during my post Life's A Beach Triathlon (the Triathlon for Slackers) high.

The half marathon was in Charleston and they advertised shrimp and grits and beer at the end. How could I refuse the opportunity to be back in my city, see some family, and have a great excuse to eat food I love somewhat guilt free?

So I committed. The persuaded Jonathan to commit. And then, my brother committed. I must admit that looking at the 13.1 mile route on the map was daunting but we all began training.

Last Saturday was the big day. The Notorious MRA and ASA both had the flu and the forecast for the event was a sunny 37 degrees. But we persisted. And I bought some "cold gear" to run in.

On the drive up, MRA vomited all over Chik-fil-A and the forecast changed to include WIND! We decided if it rained we were throwing in the towel and sleeping in. We finally made it to South Carolina, dropped the boys off with my parents and were relieved to finally be in a car without incessant hacking coming from the back seat.

My runner friends all insisted that 37 degrees was PERFECT marathon weather but if you know me, I am a cold weather wimp. I turn mean and angry and I say things to people I love that are rude and ugly. I hate to be cold.

Long story short, I did it! We all did it. Chad clocked the winds at 19 mph around mile 10 which is about were my knee gave out (and my headphones died) but we finished. And we finished within our goals. Jonathan was super fast (although he doesn't think so) and my brother and I finished in stride, crossing the finish line together. Robin also finished with a great time.

I could not have crawled another mile.

My mother-in-law asked if I was going to get one of those 13.1 stickers for my car and all I could say was, "NO! I am more proud of 37*F. I'll take one of those stickers.

I loved finishing with my brother and hopefully we will all do it again next year and I learned that I can run in the cold but I can absolutely do without the wind.

And next year I need to add a little Flock of Seagulls (I Ran) to my play list.

And here are the stats so I don't forget them: Charleston Half Marathon Stats

Wordless Wednesday

Happy New Year!

My husband just unexpectedly became a guest blogger and provided the content for the first blog of 2014.

I just received the following email from him. I think this may give me high hopes of the year to come!

"MRA and ASA had their squabbles this AM as usual. Being that I’m still recovering from the sleep deprivation from the past week, I tell both of them to go to their rooms. They both do while I’m finishing getting ready. When I go up to get them, I open MRA’s door 1st, and not only is he playing quietly, but he’s also both gotten himself dressed and cleaned-up his room (which he quickly told me about). It was one of the more proud moments that I’ve had of him."

Wishing you all much hope in 2014!

Its Me and George W.

Do you remember, oh, I dunno, maybe seven years ago or so., that time when George W. was still president and during a press conference a reporter threw a shoe at him?

I know how he feels. Sort of.

Of late, Chubalicious has decided to remove his shoes and socks whenever he is in the car. It started with a shoe then both, then the socks. And now, now, he chucks them at me while I am driving.

So there I am. minding my own business, trying to get him to school or wherever safely and BAM out of no where a sock flies into the front seat. Presently, I am grateful that its usually the socks but on occasion it is the shoes.

Now, unlike the disgruntled reporter in the George W. episode, Chubalicious does not seem to be at all upset. In fact when I ask him why he does this, he giggles like a madman. There are times, as well, when his aim is not so good and I go to get him out of the car seat only to realize he is barefoot. At these moments, when I ask where his socks are, he points to exactly where they landed (usually somewhere in the front console) and says, "Right there, Mama" like its the most natural thing in the world.

I am not offended by this at all although, sometimes, when I am in a hurry, it is quite annoying. I actually have begun to find the whole thing rather funny. And I am quite certain that on years to come, I will remember these moments endearingly or use them in some way to totally embarrass Chubalicious in front of his friends.

I have no idea how George W. remembers his incident.

Have a wonderful weekend, y'all!

"There is no truth. There is only perception."

So said Gustav Flaubert.

If you asked me to describe my husband, it would be quite different from the description the Notorious MRA gives in the video snippet. I am not sure if my husband is all that happy with the verbals, particularly the wrinkly skin part, but...  the picture part of it is rather nice.

Wordless Wednesday

And Sometimes, There Is a Time to Look Down

A few weeks ago, I wrote about times in your parental life when you just have to look up. Well, conversely, as a parent, there are times when you also need to look down.

Case in point, the return from our vacation in Hilton Head. the drive went relatively smoothly. That is, until we got about an hour from home. It is at that point that the skies opened up and let loose such a volatile rain that I was scared to speak lest I brake Jonathan's concentration on the road.

Of course, this didn't stop MRA from speaking (ASA had FINALLY fallen asleep, I think). MRA jibber jabbered on and on peppering me with questions about rain. Finally, I told him that because the rain was so heavy, we needed to be quite so that Daddy could concentrate on driving. To which he asked, "Why does he have to concentrate on driving?"
The rest of the conversation went something like this:

Me: "Because the rain is making the roads slippery and its very hard to see and we don't want to have an accident."

MRA: "No, Mama. That's not right. Tell me again."

Me: "MRA, I just told you the rain is making the road wet and when its wet its slippery. The rain is also making it hard to see. We have to be quite so Daddy can drive."

MRA (Beginning to melt down): "No Mama, that's not it. You tell me! YOU TELL ME NOW!"

ME: "I don't know what to tell you. Ask Daddy, if you want."

MRA: "No Mama. Now I'm mad at YOU!"

Daddy: "Bud, Mama just told you the rain makes it hard to drive. Its wet and slippery and the car could slide off the road. We need to be quiet so that I can concentrate."

MRA: "That's not right eider DADDY! Now I'm mad at boat of you!"

The only think we could do was look at each other. And with our lips quivering up into a smile, we both broke out laughing. To which MRA yelled, "STOP LAUGHING AT ME!"

And that my friends, is precisely when it is time to look down. Shoulders shaking with our silent laughter and all.

Wordless Wednesday

The Benefits of Planking

Last weekend, I took both Notorious and Chubalicious to the gym with me. I have been so diligent about my workouts lately in preparation for the Life's A Beach Triathlon I signed up for (don't be too impressed, its an easy one and billed as the Triathlon For Slackards.)The boys have mostly been good in the play room there but I know, we would all rather be some where else.

Prior to heading out, MRA asked when he could start exercising. To which I responded by saying that he could begin exercising anytime he wanted and I offered to show him a few moves. He readily agreed. We did not have a ton of time nor do we have a ton of space so I quickly dropped to the floor and showed him how to plank. He did well. I explained he had to keep his belly and knees off the floor so in reality, it looked like something somewhere between a plank and Downward Dog (for my Yoga following friends).

I explained that this particular exercise would make his belly strong, and his back, and his arms and legs, too. He liked that idea.

We went on to the gym and all proceeded as typical.

Until later.

While running errands throughout the weekend, I noticed that prior to opening a door to go into a store, MRA would drop to the ground and plank. He did this at Target and Old Navy. At Dairy Queen, he must have forgotten because he got outside on that filthy exit ramp, stained with grease and gum and God-knows-what-else and planked. The whole time I am fussing away to, "Get up!" Sanitize your hands". "It's dirty down there." "People need to get by." He even did this going into Saks Fifth Avenue at which point I tried to explain that we don't plank going into stores, we only plank at the gym. All my fussing went in one ear and out the other.

The next day I went to his school to pick him and Chubalicious up... and low and behold, walking out the door (with a stream of other parents and children behind us), MRA stops at the door and drops into plank position (really more like Cobra Pose.)

He holds it long enough for me to scold him and say, "MRA, WHAT? ARE? YOU? DOING? Why do you keep doing that right here?"

He looked up at me with his huge grey eyes and an even bigger smile and said, "Mama, I'm getting strong so I can open the door for you!"

Plank away, MRA. Plank often and plank well. You bring the most unexpected moments of joy into my life!

Worth Looking Up For

No one tells you that you likely won't remember your child's first step. I thought I would. Both times. And in reality, I don't remember either.

I do remember thinking that MRA would probably start walking while I was in Spain and my parents were watching him. And I think, think, he started walking right after I returned. I am sure I talked about in the letters I write to him. But his first step. The actual first step. I don't remember.

ASA, same thing.

Its funny the things you do remember, though. Or at least what I remember. The most vivid images I have of both MRA and ASA are sometimes doing the most regular things. Sometimes, it is merely their reaction to something that is what creates the strongest memory for me.

We just returned from a week long vacation in which the pool was a VERY important part of the trip and provided hours of entertainment, as it does for most children.

Now if you have been following this blog for a while, you are probably aware that MRA has been taking some form of swimming lesson since he was about 18 months old. The pool is not such a new thing for him. (ASA has had the same lessons, although he is not as fond of the water as MRA is.)

But, back to the Notorious MRA. His most recent swim teach introduced us to this thing called a swim jogger. It is apparently they only floatation device recommended by the Red Cross. You see, the swimmer must still engage their core and can use their arms and legs to practice their strokes, as opposed to the float-y wing things that go on your arms that keep a child afloat at the shoulder level.

We bought one from the teacher and brought it with us.

Back story: Jonathan and I decided we would alternate going to the gym in the mornings. This meant whoever was not at the gym, getting fit in peace and quiet, had both Notorious and Chubalicious in the pool... ALONE.

One of us, and I am not saying who, chose to put the swim jogger on MRA. He fought it at first. However, with in minutes, he realized he could swim. And swim some more. And then when he was a little tired, he could doggie paddle around instead of hanging off me. It was a break through moment for both if us.

I'm telling you, harps were playing and the Angels were literally singing in praise. This meant I only had to hold one baby in the pool.

MRA figured out, very quickly, how to maneuver. HE. WAS. A. SHARK. Within the hour, HE WAS UNSTOPPABLE. And he was having the time of his life.

Enter Daddy.

Jonathan comes strolling into the pool area post work out, spots our things and proceeds to take his shirt off. The three of us are about halfway across the pool.

I'm not sure I will ever forget what happened next.

MRA begins beaming... and screaming, "DADDY LOOK AT ME!, LOOK AT ME DADDY, DADDY LOOK!!!! DADDY LOOK!" And as most of us parents so frequently do, he continued with what he was doing, being so used to hearing "LOOK AT ME!". (I should add here, that if the situation was reversed, I would likely have done the same thing.)

MRA was frantically swimming towards the pool edge closest to Jonathan. I took off after him. I just kept thinking, "Look up. Please look up." I was willing my husband to look up to no avail. I thought, "Should I scream across the pool to get his attention. No, I can't do that. My voice won't carry enough for him to hear me and I will just annoy everyone within earshot."

MRA continued his yelling. Right about then, I got close enough to say, "Look at MRA. He's swimming by himself." And just as the words were coming out Jonathan looked up on his own and praised MRA. (In real time, this all went down in probably 30 seconds.)

The excitement that MRA felt to show off his newly found independence and the joy that spread across that child's face when his Daddy saw him and praised him will be forever burned into my mind.

Later, when the children had fallen asleep, Jonathan and I were talking about what happened. It was such a great reminder to stop and pay attention because that moment, was just that, a moment. We will never get it back. And it was so worth looking up for.

Happy Labor Day weekend, to all!

Whose Who?

One of these is Chubalicious (ASA) and the other is my husband? Guess who is who. Ok, I know, the hair is a giveaway. But if you can mentally place those curly blond locks on the photo below....

Its Wendesday - time for a car story.

I know today is supposed to be wordless, but lately, everyday has been wordless and for the most part photo-less. There has been quite a lot going on over the last few weeks. I would venture to say that things have finally settled but... I have learned not to jinx myself that way.

The biggest news is that after seven long years we were forced to make the decision to send Poca (aka my lil' Civic) to the great big auction house where ever it may be. After having the old girl in the shop four times in 10 days (not to mention more than $2,000 later) and without a solid answer on the issue, we decided to trade her in. The frustration of Poca's problems were confounded after the third visit to the shop when we piled into our truck to pick up the supposedly now fixed vehicle only to find that the brakes were completely out in that vehicle. I am very thankful, however, that we discovered this in our neighborhood and not on the Interstate. So, another call to the tow truck, another visit to another shop, and another $1,000 later we found ourselves test driving Toyotas.

I am now the proud new owner of a Camry. Quite honestly its the nicest car I have driven (as my primary vehicle) since I bought my first new car in 1994. The boys love that it has four doors (and quite frankly so do I - car seats and two door cars are a royal pain in the...).

We have always had names for our cars. Maybe not the most creative names but names none the less. There has been The Tank (the Blazer), the Little Red Bird (the Integra), Fred (the Altima), Poca (the Civic), and the Beast (the Maxima).

So after a few days, we asked the Notorious MRA what he thought we ought to name the new car. He thought for a mere few seconds and said "Cupcake!". He also told us that the lady who tells us where to go inside the car's name should be Sprinkles.

So there ya go, my primary vehicles since 1994 have been The Tank, Poca, and now Cupcake. How can a car that feels so right, sound so wrong?

The Dichotomy of Motherhood

I think the following video illustrates it best. You see, as I was videoing, I was thinking;

Aaaaaaw, isn't he cute. I need to get this singing on video before he stops singing in public and I can't remember what he sounded like. Chubalicious is pure sugar. I love him.

and at the EXACT same time, I was also thinking;

PLEASE! Sit the ^&*% down and eat your dinner. I am OUTSIDE! IN FLORIDA! IN JUNE! I. AM. MELTING! I just felt sweat trickle down the back of my knee. THE BACK OF MY KNEE. JUST effing eat so we can go inside. GAAAAAAHHHHHH.

This may also just mean that I need meds.

Wordless Wednesday