Monthly Archives: January 2011

80’s movies

Yep. My kids watch them. (Don’t judge me.) I just think if we’re gonna spend the time in front of the tv, we might as well all enjoy it. So, yesterday, the Danger-man and I had a Ghostbusters marathon.

 And then he spent the better part of the afternoon and evening trying to perfect scenes from the movie with his trusty sidekicks: markers.

Check out Peter Venkman:

who you gonna call

And, the rest of the team (complete with food in Slimer’s stomach):

Just so we’re clear, I feel the same way about music.  We don’t have any ‘kid’s music’ in our house that the Hubs and I don’t enjoy listening to as well. Thank goodness for Casper Babypants.  Chris Ballew (you may know him from The Presidents of the United States of America) was the [music] love of my teens. And I love, love, love seeing my lil’ podlings shakin’ their booties to such a familiar voice. (But, I’m getting off track.)

Oh, and if you are curious. This is what I look like with the Pea:

you can tell it's me by the ponytail (and the boobies)

 

 

 

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there’s always tomorrow

It’s funny, some days, parenthood (or more accurately, my kids) can make me absolutely effing nuts.  Then, the very next day, I wish there was some sort of  pause button I could hit so I could live in it forever.  

Take yesterday for example:  “No, I can’t” was the phrase of the day. (Again, to be more accurate, he meant.. ‘No, I won’t’.) 4 time-outs before 2. And then I lost count. The Danger-man called me out on my threat with: “fine take away my toys, I can’t (read: won’t) clean my room.” (So, I have a giant laundry basket chock full of toys in my garage and only now do I realize he actually conned me into cleaning up his room for him.)

And, the Pea decided that she needs 3 more teeth. Right now! All of which, she welcomed in with angry blisters and buckets of drool.  

It was enough to make me seriously consider a naked stroll downtown. Just so some nice people would come and take me away for, let just say, a vacation. (A padded room? I’ll take it!  Bars? That’s fine too.)

There were only 4 things that prevented me from taking said stroll yesterday.

1. The fact that the Pea really cannot talk, yet. (Even if that’s the only reason she wasn’t screaming “No” at me as well.)  
2. The Danger-man insisting on hitting the mall with us in Dash costume.
3. Finding this blog. Her ingenious (and rather witty) title and the story behind it helped squash two brutal fits before they really got started.
4. This picture:

But, today? Today. Has. Been. Amazing. It has made-up for the hell that was yesterday 10 times over. Today was made for dance parties, finger painting, and “Sure, Mommy!”

Oh and sneaking off to do this:

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weekly funnies (part 2)

After I found a bowl of water hanging out in the fridge:
“I’m saving it for our cat. When we get a cat.”

After sneezing several times:
“Looks like I got a bad temper.”

Watching the hubs pee:
“Is that a firehose??”

Discussing the birds and the bees:
“Mama, how does the sperm get in the belly?” 
Um… When we want to have a baby, Daddy puts it there. (Perhaps, I’ve given him way too much info too soon because I have no idea where to go with this one. So, I decided for now less is more, for now.)
“So he kisses your belly and puts the sperm inside?”
“Yep, that’s about right. Now, I don’t wanna catch you kissing anybody’s belly.”
“But, I REALLY want to!”  

Oh…and this:

(Okay–that’s totally from last month. But, it still kills me… daily)

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just take 3 bites

I  read an article in some parenting magazine a few years ago about the eating habits of toddlers, or lack thereof. Basically, the gist was don’t force feed ’em or cater to their demands. Offer them healthy choices. And if they eat it- they eat it. If the don’t- they don’t.

The logic behind it seems solid enough. Kids aren’t going to let themselves starve when there is perfectly good food sitting on their plate. At some point, they’re going to eat. (Even if it’s not their most favorite thing.)  Plus, if they get 3 meals a day and a plethora of snacks in between, missing a meal or two isn’t really going to hurt in the long run.

So, for the most part, this has been the motto of our kitchen. (That, and not being too picky about the use of utensils-you can only get away with slurping spaghetti straight from the plate for so long.) And, you know, the results have always been great. The Danger-man happily packs away the food. (Usually. He is, after all a kid, and kids- by nature- are picky).  

Plus, we’re actually able to relax and enjoy meals as the quality family time it should be.

But lately, our laissez faire attitude around meals is getting seriously tested. The Danger-man has up and decided he is truly ‘a picky eater’. Every meal I make is deemed ‘oookey stuff’ and unworthy of a single taste. He’s even decided that he doesn’t like cheese or peanut butter (bad, bad news to a vegetarian). In the past 2 days he’s refused to eat 3 meals. Three. That can’t be good.

And my resolve is crumbling. I’ve resorted to begging him and bribing him to just taste it. I’ve said “Just take 3 bites to see if you like it” so often I’m starting to annoy myself. I’m contemplating making treats just so I can say: “if you don’t eat your dinner you can’t have —insert something extremely unhealthy– later.” (which is, without a doubt, my worst idea yet.)

And yesterday, at lunchtime, I thought he’d finally came back around to his normal eating habits.  He actually asked for a cheese sandwich. Then, I left the room for a minute. Only to come back and find him feeding his sister scraps under the table (“but mom, I’m pretending she’s my puppy.” And the Pea was happy to play along. ). Turns out he’d given her all the cheese while he just ate the bread and veganaise.

I guess, for now, I’ll just laugh about it and hope it’s just a phase. (While I try to stick to my guns and not cater to his every demand just to see him eat an actual meal.)

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shameless plug

I just signed up for Bloglovin’ and in order to ‘claim’ my blog it seems I have to plug myself. So here goes:

Follow my blog with bloglovin

(I mean, you know, if you want.)

Well, that was a bit embarrassing. But, other than that, Bloglovin’ seems like a great service. (So far.) Much more straightforward than my subscriptions page on this site. (I’m sorry WordPress. Please don’t delete me.) Plus, now I can finally par down  the 1/2 mile list of blogs the hubs and I keep under our ‘favorites’.

Stay tuned–I’ll be back whining about how fast my kids are growing up soon enough.

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could ya just slow down for a bit…

It has taken me 10 days to write this post. Partly, because I’ve been super busy but mainly, I just wasn’t ready to form these words just yet. (Honestly, I’m still not.)

The Pea–is basically walking. WALKING.

And I don’t like it one bit. (Of course it’s super cute and I am ridiculously proud of her.) It’s just: I don’t need, or want, any more proof of how quickly she is growing up right now.

We’re nearing her first birthday. (Isn’t that bad enough?)

And lately, when I look at her, I don’t see a baby anymore. I see 6 teeth, and enough hair to make the most perfect pigtails. I see her standing up, testing her sea-legs, and trying to keep up with her brother. I see her dancing. I see her stubbornness and her independence. I see this beautiful new creature that didn’t exist just two months ago.  And as much as I relish in these new changes I resent them a bit too. My baby has been replaced by a toddler (much too soon for my taste).

I can’t figure out why she is in such a hurry to grow up and I wish she would knock it off. Don’t think I’m a terrible mother (I’m not so bad). I only want her to slow down a tiny bit. Give me the chance to fully enjoy one milestone before she cruises on to the next. 

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weekly funnies

You know, Bill Cosby was right.  Kids DO say the darndest things.

Most days the Danger-man cracks me up no less than 12 times with all the silly shit that comes out of his mouth. To which he consistently responds: “Why you laugh?” (That’s always the kicker for me. He genuinely has no idea what’s so funny.) Usually, I’ll  text the joke to the Hubs at work and vow that I’ll remember it forever.  (But, forever usually last about a week.)

 So, I think I’ll try to start a weekly post to round up all the silly things he says (and the Pea as she gets older). That way I’ll have them for posterity’s sake and maybe we’ll crack you up in the process.

“Mommy (the Pea) has a China” (say what?) “I have a penis and my sister has a China”

“I don’t want this banana, this one is all wiggle-ly. I want a straight banana.” (Sorry, they don’t usually grow straight) “ah, Mom”

“Mommy, let’s play house. You can be the Mommy, I’ll be the boy and (the Pea) can be the baby.” (okay–maybe that one is only funny to me because, well, in essence we play that everyday.)

In response to wearing  the leather jacket I found him at a vintage consignment store: “I guess, I’m a punk rocker.”  (As if it wasn’t funny enough that he calls it his  ‘Cry-baby’. You know, that movie with Johnny Depp.)

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