Life in the Fish Bowl

welcome

What My Kid Has Learned From His Babysitters


  • To count backwards from ten. Don't remember which sitter this one was, so I'll just thank you all.

  • That at a dance party you do the limbo and the mashed potato. Thanks so much Minnie, Goofy, and the whole Mickey Mouse Club House.

  • Are we there yet? Are we there yet? My eternal ingratitude for teaching Punkin' this phrase goes to Bob the Tomato and the rest of his goody-two-shoes Veggie pals.

  • What works? Teamwork! Linny, Tuck, and Ming Ming - you are the best!

  • Cheeky engines boys tend to get into trouble. Thomas, you rule.

  • A caterpillar makes a chrysalis and then turns into a butterfly. If I could only be as good a Mom as you are, Ms. Spider!

  • That not only can you have a squishy frog to play with, you can have a frog in your throat. Franklin, you are a great sitter, even if you do shed on my couch.

  • That the big green laundry bucket makes an excellent transporter to Dino World. Harry you and your bucket full of dinosaurs can pay the copay when the inevitable happens.

  • Classical music can be really cool. If it weren't for you, Einsteins, Punkin' would be doomed to a future of Barney and Wiggle tunes. Plus, Choo Choo Soul plays at the end of your show. Which brings us to .....

  • Classical is great, but even a two year old can appreciate a good soul jam. Thanks Genevieve for making kids music that doesn't make a mom want to jab an ice pick in her ears.

  • To respond to frustration or aggravations with Eye, yie, yie, yie. Barney, you really need to tell BJ to watch the vocabulary. Punkin' sounds like a 70 year old man.

  • And last, but certainly not least, Scooby-Doo. You even sat with me when I was a kid. You've aged much better than I have. Thanks a lot for convincing my Punkin' that there are monsters in his closet and ghosts in his room. And instead of being some cute animal or superhero or a talking dog with a hippie best friend for Halloween he wants to be a ghost. A scarrrry ghost. Thanks a damn lot.

Those Moments


I had a comment, from the always entertaining DX, which questioned why Moms rave about being Moms and Dads don't rave about being Dads. It is way too early in the morning - Punkin' hasn't even finished his milk yet- but it got me thinking.

Why don't Dads rave about being Dads?

My answer is: they do. Well, some of them do. Some do it, they just don't do it as loudly. Or as frequently. Or in quite the same manner. And who listens to them anyway? Alright, that wasn't very nice was it? But it is kind of true sometimes, isn't it?

I think the Dads do love being Dads, it just isn't necessarily considered the "manly" thing to go singing about it in public or even to admit it in private.

It should be, though.

I also don't think a lot of Dads get to spend the amount of time with their children which Moms do. If you are lucky enough to be able to stay at home with your kids, then you are there to wipe the noses, to kiss the boo boos, to read the books and get out the crayons, to cook the Scooby-Doo mac & cheese. Even if you do work, you are probably still the one who does the above.

This allows us Moms so many opportunities to have one of those moments in a day. Dad, who is off earning a living all day doesn't have as many and that's a shame. Dad is tired/grouchy/distracted/
cutting the grass when he gets home from work and doesn't necessarily have the patience that it sometimes takes to deal with kids, so he may miss his small window of a chance for one of those moments.

Of course, when you both get home from work, you may be cooking dinner while he watches Sports Center with his hand stuck in the front of his pants. We will save that discussion for another time.

I know I don't always appreciate Hubby because he is usually on my last nerve, but if not for him I wouldn't have had the choice of staying at home and getting those moments on a regular basis or with such frequency. I wouldn't be able to annoy all of you guys with anecdotes about my precious Punkin' and all of the sweet things he does. If not for Hubby, my window for experiencing one of those moments would also be greatly diminished.

We, as wives, and we, as a society, should encourage the Dads to be as involved as possible in out kids lives. We should make it ok for men to rave about being Dads and to still be considered manly. We should move over and let Dad have more of an opportunity for a moment, even if we could do the task at hand better/quicker/easier/correctly.

Those moments are what cause us Moms to rave.

Because those moments are what it's all about.


(Now no more blogging until nap time. I'm sticking with my resolution: Punkin' time, not web time).

I Love Being A Mom


The OCD took over again today with my blog skin. The laptop was in my lap from Punkin's first milk until mid morning. Then I caught myself snapping at him because he was trying to get my attention and was hitting my computer.

What a bitch! I felt like so ashamed.

I closed the laptop and played with my baby. I am staying home to be with him, not to blog. As much as I enjoy this, I've got to get my priorities straight. Starting today. (I know I've said this before, but I'm a little slow - OCD remember?)

So I apologized to him for being a butt. Of course he said it was ok. Then we had a ton of fun the rest of the morning. We played with his animals - all ten million of them. We played with his trains. We talked about birthday parties and his friends. We watched I-Spy and Wow! Wow! Wubbzy. I love that boy.

Of course I had the computer glued to my lap from the minute he went to sleep until the minute he woke up. But that's not violating any rules is it? Except the housekeeping ones, but hey, something has to suffer. Right?

Then, the big payoff. The thing that makes all of the late nights (not because of Punkin', but catching up on my feeds and the DVR), the tight budgets, the lack of adult conversation, and the butt wiping worth while.

I was cooking a gourmet dinner bbq sandwiches, fries and Scooby-Doo Mac & Cheese. Now Scooby is the shit around here, so this was a big deal. So I am slaving over a hot stove stirring the macaroni and Punkin' comes flying to the edge of the bar in the kitchen.

Mommy, I love Scooby-Doo mac & cheese. I love it so much. It is my favorite.

I love mac & cheese. Thank you for getting it for me.

I love you.


Of course I wiped my heart up off of the floor, stopped slaving stirring and gave him a big hug. These are the times when you forget all of the crap and just revel in being a Mom. If I was younger and had more money I'd have 15 more! Oh, and if I could actually manage to get pregnant and stay that way, but that's beside the point.

Now if Hubby could get it as together as his two year old son has it, his life would be so much easier.

Punkin' has soooo much to teach him....

Under Construction!


My blog is currently under construction by a very inexperienced contractor.

Please pardon the mess!

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Get Sorted!!!!!


I saw this over on Jennifer's blog and, being that I've been on a major Harry Potter binge, figured I better get myself sorted.

Which Hogwarts house will you be sorted into? Of course I was hoping for Gryffindor, but at least Slytherin came in last for me. Around here we work on repressing our dark sides, you know?

My in-depth results are:
Ravenclaw - 15
Hufflepuff - 11
Gryffindor - 11
Slytherin - 9

Just Call Me a Wanna Be


I read all of these blogs with these really cool layouts and I feel so inadequate! I want a cool layout, too!

But since my knowledge of html is limited to this or this, I am not able to do much about it by myself.

How about you guys? Can you give me a recommendation of someone who could help me out with a new layout who won't charge an arm and a leg to do it? And who wouldn't expect me to be creative in any way in the process?

I don't mind paying, I just can't spend hundreds of dollars for a layout for my blog. Which my husband doesn't know I have. And since I make him carry his lunch to work instead of eating out due to budget and since he already resents the hell out of this computer I'm typing on, I don't imagine he'd appreciate me dropping a grand we don't have on a blog which makes us $0 a month!

If any of you have any suggestions it would sure be appreciated!

I wanna be cool, too!!!

Harry and Shrek and Fiona, Oh My!!!!


I've been away from my blog for nearly a week.

I've missed it.

In the meantime I have been on a Harry Potter binge. I've read books one through six and now just need someone to bum book seven off of (hint, hint). If you haven't picked up on it already, I tend to get a little obsessive about _______ - just fill in the blank. I just pick some random thing and obsess on it and then the urge passes and I move on. But until that urge passes I can only think about the one thing. My eyes are now just tiny slits in my head which are near useless.

And my feeds! OMG!!! I have so many blogs to read. I think every blog which I read - and that's quite a few - has been updated multiple times while I've been away. I am so ready to catch up on all of my bloggy friends! I feel like I've been on vacation and now I'm home and ready to dish!

Punkin' has been quite a handful lately - probably because his bad Mommy has been neglecting him due to having her head in a book nonstop. He is laying in the floor now, putting his train tracks together and watching I-Spy on HBO.

He has also discovered Shrek. We have watched it at least 30 times in the last week. And yes, by we I mean he, as my nose was in Potter Land, of course. We don't have the DVD, but it came on Cartoon Network last week and we DVR'd it.

Punkin' LOVES Shrek! We did have to take a little break in our Shrek viewing as my sister visited with her kids (ages 5 and nearly 4) and they aren't allowed to watch Shrek.

So, help me out here. Was something "bad" cut out of Shrek since we were watching it on basic cable? Cause I'm not getting it. Did Shrek and and Princess Fiona do it during a commercial break? Were the Merry Men a little merrier than is acceptable in sweet home Alabama?

I figure if the worst thing Punkin' picks up is what I saw and heard on Shrek then I am very pleased. That he has never called anyone an asshole or a fucktard (very common around here now!) is amazing! So I can live with any Shrekisms he may pick up.

You'd think I'd have a better post after six days away, wouldn't you? But unless you want to email me about Harry Potter, this is what you get.

Hubby is being an ass so tomorrow's post should be much more interesting!

Smack Down in B'ham (aka Playgroup at My House)


Holding it up for me to see, he says:

Mommy, it's a trumpet!

It makes noise and music!


Just read the rest of the post and I'll show you a picture of the trumpet.

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Today we had a playgroup at our house. Punkin' was soooo excited to get to "play with my friends". Of course I was up to 3:30 am trying to bring some order to the chaos that is our house. Then up at 7am to finish things up and run to Publix.

Punkin' loves to play with other kids. He is constantly talking about playing with his friends or seeing his friends or missing his friends.

The thing is, when they get here he promptly starts beating the crap out of them! He hugs body slams them, steals their toys, pushes them, screeches in their faces. I spend the whole playgroup threatening him, putting him in time out and just wishing he would chill the hell out.

Then, when everyone leaves, he asks me where his friends went and when they are coming back. When they are all gone he is quiet and sweet. He is gentle. I am so worn out that I decide to nap with him

For four hours.

We are back up and watching Shrek for the millionth time in the last four days. He has brought animal books in the living room and is peacefully reading them while Shrek pursues his princess.

This is the Punkin' I wish you all could meet. Not the bruiser who terrorizes your kid. Or yells at you. Or hoards all of the toys. I want you to see the little sweetie who loves animals, who hugs his mommy and tells her it will be ok, who loves everyone and misses you when you are gone.

But I guess for now you'll just have to take my word for it.

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The Trumpet


I have a cat who carried one of these around, still in the wrapper, for a week or two. It was his favorite toy ever. I sure wish I had a photo, it was priceless! I guess the men around here are a little unusual sometimes, even the feline ones!

And that is crayon on the floor next to the trumpet, not peas.

I promise.

Ho Ho Ho


It is July.

We live in Alabama.

It is regularly a hundred degrees.

And humid.

Let's don't even talk about the bugs.

Now I'm all for some wishful thinking and I know Santa Claus can make your wishes come true, but....

A local radio station is playing Christmas music. 24/7.

That's grasping a little, don't you think?

Though it is only 88 today....


Lazy Sunday


My grandmother is 90 years old. She still lives by herself and gets around pretty well, considering she's 90. Thursday night she fell in her apartment and broke her ankle. They took her to the Podunk hospital where there are no orthopedist and on Friday transferred her to the Big City Hospital where she had surgery. Mother spent Friday night and last night was my turn.

Unexpectedly, that is. I didn't think I would have to spend the night, but here I still sit. No hair brush, no toothbrush, no deodorant (and no! I don't stink - yet). Aren't you glad you are out there in internet land and not here with me? HA - I bet you are.

I love my Granny dearly, but I am SOOOO not a nurse! I had been thinking about maybe going into nursing later on, but no longer. Somethings you just aren't cut out for and you need to recognize that. If I can't even take care of my little old Granny, how could I ever take care of strangers. Just call me cold hearted bitch, thank you!

Luckily the Big City Hospital has hospital wide wireless access so I am not having withdrawals or anything. I also managed to knock out a book and a half in the Harry Potter series (seen the movies, now reading the books), all with no guilt over neglecting Punkin' or dirty dishes left in the sink. And NO, I wasn't neglecting Granny as she has been sleeping most of the time.


Except for this morning. At 6am. When she woke me up. For nothing.

Lazy Sunday was supposed to not be a real post, but just photos. I just can't seem to shut up, even when typing. Sue me.


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For once we were quick enough to catch the ice cream truck. Guess what Punkin' had?


Savoring the yummy goodness that is Dora, Dora, Dora the Explorer....


As much as he hates being a mess you'd think he'd quit being one!

I can't believe she's all gone!!


The zoo is sooooo much fun!

Punkin' immediately finds him an older woman....just like Daddy!

His first cake beater!

Every cake is a birthday cake for my baby. The blue and green were per his request. (please don't look at the chaos in the background!)

From the zoo....I'll let yall caption this one.

My Life In Make Believe


Today Punkin' and I went to the zoo. He was so excited! We haven't made it to the zoo in a while - for a multitude of reasons - so we were past due for a trip. On the way there he was talking about all of the animals he was going to see and mentioned he was going to see a mermaid.

Punkin', mermaids aren't real. They are make believe.

No, I wanna see a mermaid.

But mermaids aren't real. They are just pretend. Make believe.

I wanna go to make believe.

How cute is that? But how many times a day do I want to go to make believe? Sooo many. But then I have to stop and realize, I have already gone to make believe. I've got the best little boy ever, even if he does take a dump in my floor occasionally (this morning!!!) and rise with the roosters in the mornings.

The zoo wasn't so great today as most of the animals were either sleeping, hiding, or off exhibition. Punkin' had been wanting a "squishy hippopotamus" - don't ask me where that came from - so we stopped in the gift shop on the way out. No hippopotamuses, but we did find a squishy frog. He was in love.

I guess he had a good time as when we got in the car he told me I was his "bestest" friend. I told him he was my best friend, too, as I melted like hot butter in my front seat.

And that little man is my best friend. He has such a personality! He looooves animals. He loves "some tb". He loves me. He is just a fun kid. He is smart and funny and cuter than a kitten. You know, I'd like him if he wasn't my own. He is funny and so loving. There's not much he would rather do than give you a big hug and tell you he lubs you. And there's not much else I would rather him do!

That kid worries about me, too. I hate that he does - and that he has had to - but he does. A few months ago when I was having one of my mini breakdowns one evening I had got so frustrated I was just lying in his bedroom floor crying.

What's wrong Mommy?

~silence~

What's wrong? Don't cry Mommy! Don't cry buddy, it'll be ok.

~silence~

He leaves the room and is gone for a few minutes. Then in comes my husband to see what was wrong. Of course he is much less persistent and gave much less of a shit than my Punkin'. It turns out that Punkin' had left the bedroom, went out the back door, off of the deck and into the yard to find his Daddy and tell him that Mommy was crying. My sweet baby was worried about his Momy.

Well, I've got my head straight now and hopefully there will be no more of him having to worry. The point is I've got this incredibly sweet, caring, sensitive, intelligent little man to raise. I would like to think that I've had an influence on him, but some of it is just who he is.

And that is one incredible kid!

And I love him.

And he is my bestest friend.

His What is Where?????


My son is still a toddler. He thinks he is 25, but he is just two. I talk to him like he is my age because most of the time it's just he and I - and I'm no fun to talk to because I always know what I'm going to say.

This morning we were getting ready to go to a playgroup. Not that we made it because some dumb ass I left my interior lights on Tuesday night and my battery was dead.

Anyway, we were getting ready for the playdate. I put Punkin' in the bathtub and I was getting ready to get in the shower. I am closing the shower door when I barely hear him saying something, so I walk back out of the shower.

"What's that?" he says, pointing to my crotch.

Ummmmm, uhhhhhh, thats my whoo ha.

"I've got a penis."

Yes, Punkin. Boys have a penis and girls have a vagina.

You know how you sometimes call your penis a wing ding? Well, Mommy calls her vagina a whoo ha, a vajayjay.

"Daddy has a penis on his butt".

I get back in the shower so that he can't see me giggling about the penis on Daddy's butt. (Now I've called DH a dickhead before, but never a penis butt.) But I'm thinking, is he too old for parental nudity? I thought we would have another year or two before we had to address this, but obviously not.

Maybe this will be the end of the questions for a while, and if so, great. It is such a convenience to be able to stick him in the bathtub while I get a shower or to get us both dressed at the same time. It is a lot harder for him to poop under my bed if I am in the room with him.

Are those days over? I mean I already have to lock horny hubby out, but my Punkin'?

Am I scarring him for life? Will he have major therapy bills later on due to seeing his mother naked when he was two years old? What did/do you guys do? Help?!?

And should I explain that to him that Daddy's penis isn't on his butt?

Oh, No He Didn't!!


Punkin' was acting up today so I told I him to go lay down in his bed and take a nap. I usually lay down with him until he is sleeping, but I figured I'd try to let him go solo today. Now he has been dry on his naps 100% of the time since we started potty training a month ago.

That little shit peed in his bed!! On purpose! Like one minute after I put him in there. And then came and told me. And smiled! And laughed!

I'm gonna kill him!!! I guess I've bragged on him a little too much the past few days. He has said he was going to go on my cookbooks (which sit on a low shelf) in the kitchen. I guess I should have taken him seriously. And maybe go sniff them.

I'm not much on spanking, but I have to admit that I tore his little butt up and put him to bed. On the wet sheets. I know I'm a bad mommy, but he hates it and maybe that will make him think twice about peeing on the bed again. More specifically, peeing on his bed on purpose.

I was going to take a little nap while he was napping (damn Internet just won't let me get to sleep before 2am!), but I may just go fix myself a little toddy....it's five o'clock somewhere, right?

A Good Read


On the heels of book club last night I found this book meme and couldn't pass it up. I stole this from Rachel, who stole it from Dani, so feel free to steal it from me. It's easy. You don't have to read a book to figure it out.

From the list below:

-Bold the ones you’ve read
-Italicize the ones you want to read
-leave the ones you aren't interested in as they are

I've only read 26 1/2 (just never could make it more than part of the way through The Stand) out of the hundred, and I certainly haven't read much lately other than Dr. Seuss or The House That Jack Built - which, incidentally, my little Einstein Punkin' can almost recite from memory - and I'm sure no one give a flying fuck what I've read anyway.

But here it is....

1.The Da Vinci Code (Dan Brown)
2.Pride and Prejudice (Jane Austen)
3.To Kill A Mockingbird (Harper Lee)
4. Gone With The Wind (Margaret Mitchell)
5. The Lord of the Rings: Return of the King (Tolkien)
6. The Lord of the Rings: Fellowship of the Ring (Tolkien)
7. The Lord of the Rings: Two Towers (Tolkien)
8. Anne of Green Gables (L.M. Montgomery)
9. Outlander (Diana Gabaldon)10.A Fine Balance (Rohinton Mistry)
11.Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire (Rowling) - the whole series is on my kitchen counter as we speak - Thanks Becca!
12.Angels and Demons (Dan Brown)
13.Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix (Rowling)
14. A Prayer for Owen Meany (John Irving)
15. Memoirs of a Geisha (Arthur Golden)
16.Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone (Rowling)
17. Fall on Your Knees(Ann-Marie MacDonald)
18. The Stand (Stephen King)
19. Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban(Rowling)
20. Jane Eyre (Charlotte Bronte)
21. The Hobbit (Tolkien)
22. The Catcher in the Rye (J.D. Salinger)
23. Little Women (Louisa May Alcott)
24. The Lovely Bones (Alice Sebold)
25. Life of Pi (Yann Martel)
26. The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy (Douglas Adams)
27. Wuthering Heights (Emily Bronte)
28. The Lion, The Witch and the Wardrobe (C. S. Lewis)
29. East of Eden (John Steinbeck)
30. Tuesdays with Morrie(Mitch Albom)
31. Dune (Frank Herbert)
32. The Notebook (Nicholas Sparks)
33. Atlas Shrugged (Ayn Rand)
34. 1984 (Orwell)
35. The Mists of Avalon (Marion Zimmer Bradley)
36. The Pillars of the Earth (Ken Follett)
37. The Power of One (Bryce Courtenay)
38. I Know This Much is True(Wally Lamb)
39. The Red Tent (Anita Diamant)
40. The Alchemist (Paulo Coelho)
41. The Clan of the Cave Bear (Jean M. Auel)
42. The Kite Runner (Khaled Hosseini)
43. Confessions of a Shopaholic (Sophie Kinsella)
44. The Five People You Meet In Heaven (Mitch Albom)
45. Bible
46. Anna Karenina (Tolstoy)
47. The Count of Monte Cristo (Alexandre Dumas)
48. Angela’s Ashes (Frank McCourt)
49. The Grapes of Wrath (John Steinbeck)
50. She’s Come Undone (Wally Lamb)
51. The Poisonwood Bible (Barbara Kingsolver)
52. A Tale of Two Cities (Dickens)
53. Ender’s Game (Orson Scott Card)
54. Great Expectations (Dickens)
55. The Great Gatsby (Fitzgerald)
56. The Stone Angel (Margaret Laurence)
57. Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets (Rowling)
58. The Thorn Birds (Colleen McCullough)
59. The Handmaid’s Tale (Margaret Atwood)
60. The Time Traveller’s Wife (Audrew Niffenegger)
61. Crime and Punishment (Fyodor Dostoyevsky)
62. The Fountainhead (Ayn Rand)
63. War and Peace (Tolsoy)
64. Interview With The Vampire (Anne Rice)
65. Fifth Business (Robertson Davis)
66. One Hundred Years Of Solitude (Gabriel Garcia Marquez)
67. The Sisterhood of the Travelling Pants (Ann Brashares)
68. Catch-22 (Joseph Heller)
69. Les Miserables (Hugo)
70. The Little Prince (Antoine de Saint-Exupery)
71. Bridget Jones’ Diary (Fielding)
72. Love in the Time of Cholera (Marquez)
73. Shogun (James Clavell)
74. The English Patient (Michael Ondaatje)
75. The Secret Garden (Frances Hodgson Burnett)
76. The Summer Tree (Guy Gavriel Kay)
77. A Tree Grows in Brooklyn (Betty Smith)
78. The World According To Garp (John Irving)
79. The Diviners (Margaret Laurence)
80. Charlotte’s Web (E.B. White)
81. Not Wanted On The Voyage (Timothy Findley)
82. Of Mice And Men (Steinbeck)
83. Rebecca (Daphne DuMaurier)
84. Wizard’s First Rule (Terry Goodkind)
85. Emma (Jane Austen)
86. Watership Down(Richard Adams)
87. Brave New World (Aldous Huxley)
88. The Stone Diaries (Carol Shields)
89. Blindness (Jose Saramago)
90. Kane and Abel (Jeffrey Archer)
91. In The Skin Of A Lion (Ondaatje)
92. Lord of the Flies (Golding)
93. The Good Earth(Pearl S. Buck)
94. The Secret Life of Bees (Sue Monk Kidd)
95. The Bourne Identity (Robert Ludlum)
96. The Outsiders (S.E. Hinton)
97. White Oleander (Janet Fitch)
98. A Woman of Substance (Barbara Taylor Bradford)
99. The Celestine Prophecy (James Redfield)
100.Ulysses (James Joyce)

She Flies Through the Air With the Greatest of Ease...


At my book club tonight I was mentioning a tumble me and Punkin' took down the stairs to our basement. Here are the gruesome details. Sorry for another crappy post, but damn, I'm boring as hell and totally uncreative sleepy.

I was headed out to the last day of work at my old job (yes, I used to work, once upon a time) and Punkin' was headed to daycare. Our garage is in the basement so there is no avoiding the stairs. Punkin' was only 18 months old at the time and wasn't so great at the stairs yet. Usually I would hold his hand and we would go down slowly, but it was my last day at the job and I was in a hurry so I was carrying him, along with my purse.

At the first stair I took a tumble. Punkin' stayed up at about stair 4 or 5, but I made my graceful way on to the bottom. Photos of the damage follow....

This is the view from the top of the stairs. There are ten steps. I fell, bounced, tumbled, soared down every last one of them. Those black marks are from my shoes, which were on my feet (duh), which were over my head. They don't normally go there. Just ask Hubby.



The hole is where my knee went into the sheetrock. If felt oh so good.
I hit the wall, made the hole and then turned, continuing down the steps below the landing to end up on the basement floor. Which wasn't carpeted. And was hard. Very hard. If you look just above the bottom door hinge you'll see another shoe mark. I ended up over to the left of the door, in a crumpled pile. I still went to work because I am a dedicated and kick ass employee stupid.
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On a less painful note, photos of the goody boxes containing the potty training bribes rewards. They really worked wonders.

Note to all future potty trainers: Recycle. Your. Rewards.

Forget time out. Reward the kid, then when he pisses you off misbehaves, take the reward away and reuse it. If we had thought of this ahead of time we would have spent a lot less on goodies.

And Now Back to My Life


We have now been three days without a poop accident. Punkin' even asked to go to stinky (ok, now that's his word, not mine!) in the potty today.

Halla-fuckin-lujah!

We can now rejoin the world of the toilet using, clean underwear wearing, staying in more than one room of their house people. This blog will hopefully get a little more interesting as I get to experience something besides my tv, the loveseat, and the bathroom floor. Today I was even able to cook dinner and make some bread since I didn't have to be on poop watch all evening.


My to-do list is about a mile long due to our nearly month long period of house arrest.

I need to:

  • clean the basement. We haven't been able to go to the basement because it is carpeted and for some reason I just don't like urine and poop soaked carpet. I'm just weird like that.

  • buy groceries. I think we have a can of turkey chili with no beans, a can of fruit cocktail, some tuna in oil (uhhh, hubby bought that one), and some sun dried tomatoes which expired in 2005.

  • put up the moulding in Punkin's room. I only painted it 5 months ago, so I guess I should cut myself some slack, huh? Plus it is in DH's side of the garage and he is having to park outside, which puts him in a great mood.

  • let Punkin' play with some other kids. He needs out. BAD.

  • buy chain locks for the doors since sweetie pie has learned how to turn the dead bolts and work the child proof locks.

  • get something to go on the table I finally got (after living here nearly two years) to go in my foyer. I have no clue what to get and I am shitty at home decorating. Any suggestions - please include store or website link- would be greatly appreciated. Seriously.

To sum it up, after I get all of that crap done I get to get a life!!! I am so excited. It seems like we have been potty training for years. The few times I have gotten out of the house I keep having the urge to ask people if they need to go potty.

For some reason people sure look at you funny when you ask them that.

She's Here!!!! (Or it is a slow day and I have nothing to blog about)



Just look at this.

She's here!!!

I know it's her.

Now if she would just walk her ass up here to my house so that I don't have to get dressed and go outside and get her.

After all, I did wait 12 days for her to get here.

You'd think Martha would have better etiquette than to just hang out on the side of the street. I mean, come on, it's the middle of the day.

All Pooped Out



One More Complication


So much for the security of locked doors.

Punkin' just unlocked the deadbolt and went out the front door.

To "go treek or treating".

So much for locking the doors and being able to get a shower. I'll just wear lots and lots of cologne. And a hat.

On the positive side, he did poop in the potty twice today, making this our first day without a poop accident. However, both times were preceded by a half hour or so of him sitting on the toilet and by much screaming and crying.

Oh, and he made a lot of noise, too.

Poor baby. He just really hates pooping in the potty!

Taking a breath between fits. I'm stripping wallpaper, so don't look at the walls!

I might be a whiner, but I read educational material while on the pot! Doesn't your 2 year old read National Geographic, too????

Stop taking my picture! I'm busy... you #@?!*!!!

OCD in Alabama



If you have read my prior posts you may have picked up on the fact that I am the shit, shit, shittiest not much of a housekeeper. I have been trying to do better. I promise I have.

On July 4, I ordered Martha Stewart's Homekeeping Handbook from Half.com. 744 pages of more than everything I ever wanted to know about keeping house. I mean if Martha can't help me get my shit together, then who can?

So by ordering my salvation the book from Half, I saved about half (duh). $18.19 including shipping for a brand new book. Now saving is good. Verrry good. I even liked saving money back when I used to have money. But media mail? Arrival in 2 - 9, or up to 30 days?

Media. Mail. Sucks.

I miss expedited shipping. Buy it today, it's here tomorrow. Fine, maybe it's the day after tomorrow. But up to 30 days? OMG, I cannot handle 30 days. Or five days. We are at nine days now and I'm reaching the end of my tether.

I paid you unmerciful dicks and I want. my. book. NOW.

Then, to top it all off, they don't even send you a tracking number. How am I to stalk track the progress of that tortoise which is slowly making its way across the US with my life changing book without a fucking tracking number?

I am a little OCD about tracking numbers. First, I wait for the email that says my package will be shipped. Then for notification that it has shipped, but that it "might not be in the system yet". Of course I immediately go to the shippers website, only to find out that - now can you even believe this shit? - that my package isn't in the system yet. My package!

Then every hour or so I check it's progress, because hey, my little bundle may be in a sorting facility in Hell, MI, or riding a conveyor belt in French Lick, IN. Hell, for all I know it could be taking its sweet time in Intercourse or Gobbler's Knob, PA (what's up with the names PA?), or in Toad Suck, AR. Come to think of it it might be slutting it up in Ding Dong, TX (surely W's hometown, right?) I mean, I know where my kid is at all times. Where is my damn package?

I even check to make sure that the shipper shows that my package has been delivered after it has been delivered. I am committed to this and will follow through to the conclusion of the transaction. OCD, not doubt about it.

But with no tracking number, I am at the mercy of the USPS. Which, truth be told, sucks compared to UPS or Fed Ex, and only updates their info online after the package has reached its destination. But still. Give me something people!

So I wait. And wait.

I press my nose against the window, trying to see the bag which I hope is hanging from my mailbox, slowly wrenching the metal hook on the front until it falls off and I have to buy a new mailbox (which of course must be approved by the homeowners ASSociation, which is another post).

And it isn't there. It is never there.

So if you come to visit me (please visit me so I can be distracted from my delinquent shipment) just look over the debris as you enter my humble abode. The dust bunnies are all tame and the cat fur will come off in the wash.

Martha will reform me and my slackard ways.

She just isn't here yet. And I'm not quite sure where she is or when she'll get here.

Progress Report


Started cleaning.

Tackled ceiling fan in kitchen first.

Oh.
My.
God.

Someone call the EPA or a HAZMAT team or something.

Windex couldn't handle it so I had to pull out the big guns. 80% of a bottle of 409 and a hour and a half later it is clean.

Someone did a lot of frying at my house before I bought it. They must have done it all on top of the refrigerator, because the blades of that bad boy are like ten feet up, but were covered with grease.

Now don't you go and think I haven't ever cleaned that fan. Don't! Stop! You better not!

But I haven't. This house was built in 1998 and I doubt that fan has ever been cleaned.

Excuses:

  • that MFer is up high. Need the 8 foot ladder to reach the blades, standing on top step
  • never use it. Come on, its in the kitchen
  • nasty ass people who lived here before should have done it
  • thought my husband cleaned it when he was doing the housework (this one is a stretch, right?)
  • I always thought it was a tan ceiling fan and was sparkling, sunshiny clean
  • I am one lazy bitch
Please don't tell me that you are pretty sure the last one isn't just an excuse, but the god honest truth. Don't make Punkin's momma sad.

Just tell me how nice and clean the ceiling fan looks.

At least the one in the kitchen....

Say What????


I was leaving a comment at one of my favorite blogs when the question struck me:

Why do kids talk the way they do?

Now I don't mean why do they not use correct grammar or scream to the top of their lungs constantly talk loudly or just never shut up talk a lot.

I mean why can they say some words correctly and not others?

With my Punkin' there is no pattern, no discernible vowels or consonants that he consistently has the same problem with. When he was just starting to talk, I got the funny pronunciations - hey, they were super cute!

mon-yade = lemonade
o-pie = hippopotamus

Now he can say lemonade and hippopotamus. He can say rhinoceros and pretty much every other animal alive or extinct.

He can distinguish between a triceratops and a protoceratops and pronounce them correctly. Come on, he knows more dinosaurs than I do. Dimetrodons. Eupolcephalus. Velociraptor. Stegosaurus. Pteradon. Pterodactyl. Iguanadon. Brontosaurus. Apatosaurus.

(Spelling these dinosaurs? Give me a damn break! The only ones in the spell check dictionary were Stegosaurus, Brontosaurus and Pterodactyl. And yes, I spelled most of them incorrectly. Sue me. My kid can still say them!)

Yet, he calls my computer the poo-doo-ter. (emphasis is on the doo).

He calls yogurt yo-gret.

And he loves him some yo-gret.

Just like his Mommy loves her poo-doo-ter.

Funny how everything in my live keeps coming back to poo or doo.......

Love me some ellipses, too.......

Hi, My Name is Blue Momma and I'm an Addict


Yes, I'm an addict. I obviously have an addictive personality because I am addicted to everything!
  • checking my email. All. The. Damn. Time.
  • reading blogs - refreshing my feeds every 2 minutes
  • DVR. enough said
  • being on poop watch
  • food

The one thing I'm not addicted to housework. I've been here with this laptop in my lap for the last 2 1/2 hours and my house is trashed. I am having Bunco here on Thursday so Punkin' is at his Nanny's house so I can get some housework done. I've watched Big Brother 8, Bad Girls Road Trip, chatted with Roomie, and read umpteen blogs. But no housework.

I try to be organized, I really do. I have good intentions. I know I should put things up when I am through with them. I know everything has a place and should be in it's place. I also know Zaxby's Chicken Finger Dinner has 12 billion calories, but I had it for dinner anyway.

Punkin' puts his dirty dishes in the sink, but my cereal bowl from this morning is still on the sofa. At least I'm teaching him right. Do what I say, not what I do. Maybe he can teach me!

So I guess I could just pile all of this crap up, put a piece of plywood over it, add a table cloth and I would have an extra Bunco table, plus not have to clean up.

Uhhhh, I have to get up! But, wait, I still haven't watched Big Love, and I need to delete some stuff from the DVR before it is full. And I see Roomie is online. And there are two crumbs left from my Zaxby's Chicken Finger Dinner.

Maybe I'll get a part time job and a maid.......

Who Did You Say I Looked Like ??!!!!???!!???!!


Posted by Picasa

Can You Feel the Love Tonight....



And while I'm feeling the love I thought I'd take a stroll down Memory Lane....

Just a few hours old


On the way home for the first time

Lunch, the old fashioned way Posted by Picasa


Big sleepy boy's lunch

First time in a pool - just look at those two teeth

He had two teeth for so long that we started calling him old two teeth!







My Punkin' is a Man


And not in a good way.

After 2 1/2 hours of sitting in the bathroom floor, mad as hell patiently waiting for poop, we have the following conversation:

Do you like sitting on the potty all day?

NO.

Well, that's what we are gonna keep doing if you don't go stinky.

Mommy has her pillow and her computer to play with. What do you have to play with?

My wing ding.

Yup. He said it. I can have all of the computers in the world, but he figures he has the best toy ever built right in.

Two, twenty, forty, sixty - it doesn't matter their age, men are all the same.

As long as they have their wing ding to play with, to hell with everything else.

Oh, and he just informed me he is not a little punk, he is a boy! Aren't they the same thing?

Now he is asking me "What are you doing, punk?" He's smart enough to remember every word I say, to remember who I talked to on the phone last night (and he said the name right this time Kopec!), but he can't go poop in the potty. UGGGGHHHH....

I'm gonna lay back down on my pillow in the bathroom floor for a while and cry. See ya....




Yes, He Said It


Mommy, I'm through.

I'm verrrry full.

Ok. You don't want anything else?

Yes. A Banana. Just a banana.

Because I'm a monkey!

Oooh, oooh! Ooooh, oooh!

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

How did he ever get from this



and this


to this???








Random Ramblings


Hopefully everyone had a great 4th of July. Or a happy Wednesday, depending on how you choose to celebrate it, I guess. We had a good one. My 90 year old grandmother is staying with us for a few days while my parents are out of town (she gets sick every time my mother leaves town). She can't hear so well anymore so I am hoarse from yelling talking to her the past few days.

Right now Granny is out on the deck because it is sooo comfortable cold in the house and so hellishly hot nice outside. Hey, she is 90, so if she wants to bask outside in the humidity and mosquitos, who am I to argue with her.

It also gives me a chance to blog in peace without her asking me what I am reading. I kept waiting for her to ask me what the white spots were on the photos on Perezhilton.com, but I think she may have been cat napping at that time.

Punkin's cousins and aunt came up for a visit Tuesday, which was a surprise and a treat. Auntie always feels compelled to start cleaning my house. This used to bother me, but I have come to my senses and now anyone, I say anyone, who would like to clean my house is more than welcome. I can't buy you an airline ticket, but if you live within a day's drive of me I'll come pick you up.

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

We are continuing to stalk the elusive Punkin' poop, but it continues to evade us if at all possible and is definitely a stinky stealthy, smelly crafty beast. I followed Punkin' around all day to no avail, then leave him in the care of my husband who promptly lets him poop his pants in within about 10 minutes of my departure.

It is hours later now and Granny just went to bed pissed off - I wonder if she has actually ever said pissed off?- because I called her on something she said. I get that she is old and that she was raised in the south. But at some point you would think folks would get over their backward ideas and move on. Or at least keep them to themselves if they can't manage that. Or realize that I AM going to say something to dispute these ideas if they vocalize them around me.

It embarrasses me to hear such things from the mouth of my sweet little old granny. I guess she's not always so sweet. But to get pissed at me for saying something just pisses me off more and makes her look worse. You are wrong, wrong, wrong and don't want to hear about it. TOUGH! As they say, don't start shit, won't be no shit! Granny!

When asking Punkin' what kind of birthday party he wants, he has consistently said he wanted jungle animals. Ok, a few times it was ocean animals or dinosaurs, but mostly jungle animals. Know what he wants now? My soon to be three year old son?

A dance party. We aren't dancers around here by any means so I don't know where it is coming from. He does like to sing Shake Your Booty, but a dance party? How the hell do I make a dance party cake?

Dancing monkeys maybe?

We Did It!!


In the immortal words of that great feminist icon, Dora the Explorer -

We did it!
We did it!
We did it!
We did it!

After a day of holding it in and a morning of walking around looking like he had a stick in his butt, my sweet, adorable, grown up Punkin' pooped in the potty!

He flushed it immediately, you know he's just clean like that, or you'd be looking at Punkin' poop right now.

After I finished doing the greatest potty dance of all time I bestowed upon him his greatest desire.

He got the mystery worm. Of course, it is no longer a mystery for you because here it is:
And here are a few more since I had the camera out and am always in the mood for showing off my Punkin!


After those photos I'm thinking maybe he should be Monkey and not Punkin'!