A Little Scary

So the other night we were doing the all American thing and eating fast food the other night. I know, I know, I am sure that all my arteries were screaming shut as I took my first bite but you know? I had taken 4 hours to dig out my middle child’s closet...if you need a reminder of what that is like I am simply just happy I came out alive and didn’t find neighborhood children lost in there.

So we are sitting there, my husband walks up to get some straws and Henry gets a devilish look on his face and says:"Hey I have a plan!"

Underestimating the grudge that Henry seems to have against my husband right now for no apparent reason was my first mistake, but busting out laughing was the second one since now he is telling everyone and I am concerned that perhaps people are putting him on a watch list.

Henrys Plan:

"When we get home if dad takes a long time to come inside....lets build a cage and catch him when we walks in the door. Then we can duct tape the cage to the ceiling waaaaayyyy up high until forever."

Silence falls over the table...with the exception of my cell phone dialing the psychologist I now have on speed dial...

Maybe THATS the Problem...

Henry is sneezing his brains out, literally.

Henry has yet another cold. So I am doing the, tissue chase, which is really not only to make him more comfortable, but to protect my entire house from being covered with his runny nose by the end of day.

When he blows his nose, I find (like many other things) I say the same thing my parents did to me:

"Blow, Blow harder, Blow your brains out" To get three good blows before taking the tissue away...

Today at lunch Henry's nose was running, and I asked if he needed a tissue, his response?

Typical Henry: "Ive been getting a lot of those."

Me: "What Tissues?"

Henry: "No, those runny brains coming out."

Note to self: Children are very literal, must remember so as not to alarm preschool teachers when my son goes to school complaining of his brains running out.

I promised Henry wouldn't make my days serious forever!

Jamie is on his way up to Bucksport for a meeting tonight, so the kids and I are dining on 5 star affair...grilled cheese and soup from a can...I know that I should do better than that, but somehow, I just can't seem to get motivated to feed my children...is that a problem?

So we are sitting at the bar, (because apparently not only can I not fix my kids a healthy meal, I can't manage to set a table for them to eat at either...) Marshall announces that they are studying electricity in science. Caroline, my ever curious child says "what exactly is electronicity???" (no that is not a typo)

Henry turns in all seriousness and says "It is when Atoms are 2 degrees"

Now, I have to tell you, I look in astonishment at the boy, thinking...oh perhaps you ARE smart, maybe all those times you were banging your head on the wall, and running in circles until you fell I jumped to conclusions... (not that this was an accurate description of electricity, but to know that it involved atoms, well that was exciting.)

Then he proceeds to giggle and say "Atom tickles me and plays rough games"

Yeah, that's when I realized that he was talking about Adam his cousin and who in the heck knows what in the world the 2 degrees was...well, at least I had a moment of hope that the boy would someday move out of my basement...it may have been a fleeting moment, but I had it.

I Just Don't Even Know What To Say.

I am not one to talk potty talk, but seriously, sometimes you just have to.

Henry is my challenge...well, all of them are a challenge in their own right, but Henry...he is special in so many ways. One of his "special" things is his outright refusal to poop on the potty. He has been potty trained for over a year...other than the pooping thing. I am not sure if he thinks that the toilet is going to hijack his butt or what, but I am about at my wits end with laundering gross underwear.

I am leaving to go to North Carolina with my sister for my father’s surgery, and am leaving the pooping bandit with my in-laws. This is stressful because I know how sick of it I am, and I am his mother. (If I wasn't, I think I would have returned him to the store already.)

So I took away thing that he enjoys, TV, Computer time, etc… until he uses the potty for going number 2. We have had a couple of successes, but no permanent change. HOWEVER…. The boy actually had a tiny (and I mean do mean minuscule) happening into the potty the other day…he proceeded to turn around look in the potty and say:

“Wow, look at that big Turd” (sp?)

Now mind you, I am giggling right now and barely able to type…but I still don’t know WHERE HE LEARNED THAT WORD. Now most of the time I will own up to stuff… The S bomb…yup, that was totally me. I knew it, and tried to correct it.

Jamie, I am thinking this one is ALL YOU BABE. I am cringing imagining him dropping the T word at Preschool…but its OK, I will just blame everything on Jamie…he doesn't show his face all that often around there, and won’t even notice the disapproving looks when he does.

Little Shop of Horrors

OK so at our Shaw’s, or as I prefer to call it, "The Place That Will Empty My Wallet with a Loaf of Bread and a Gallon of Milk", they have these miniature carts. They are cute little carts that fill your head with nice little images of mothers perfectly coifed, and their well behaved offspring, pushing their matching carts in search of organic and healthy alternatives to Spaghettio’s.

Yeah, they CLEARLY never actually tested this principal.

If I have taken out a small loan to go to Shaw’s, and Henry is with me, he always insists on pushing one of the little carts. I generally concede to this. The alternative would be the “car cart” that inevitably doesn’t steer correctly, and will take out entire displays or other small children that cannot dodge the monstrosity approaching them fast enough. So I don’t argue. Little Man gets his cart.

My problem is, Henry seems to think that this is an opportunity to practice for his stint in NASCAR when he is of age. He starts out all normal and calm, but then he sees that wide open isle in front of him, and you can see it, he just can’t help himself, and off he goes running, and laughing pushing his cart like a wild man. Making the break noise as he veers around corners "EEEEEEERRRRRKKKK"

This ends with lots of disapproving looks from parents of yester-year with their thoughts of “I would never have allowed my child to misbehave like that.” To which my response is:

“YOU DIDN'T HAVE STUFF THAT WAS KID ORIENTED. You didn’t have to worry about it. Come on Lady, between balloons, little carts and happy meals, it is a freaking romper room of terror for mothers out here…have some heart.”

We tend to actually get through the grocery store, but I have to tell you, we got up to the check out, and Henry was unloading his cart…there were a few things in there that I had to explain weren’t mine, and I was terribly sorry could they put it back?

The checkout lady rolled her eyes as she took the Depends Undergarments, Feminine Wipes, and big bag of Milky Way Minatures, and put them in that cart they have for unwanted items.

Yeah, it was really a fun trip…*Note: Dripping Sarcasm*

Kid's Say the Darndest Things

1. Me on the way to the bus stop "Come on Buckaroo, lets roll, we have to get to the bus stop."
Henry on the way home "Come on buffalo lets go rolling we have make it home." um... close enough.

2. However innocently, there are things you Never expect to hear your niece and your son playing in the Den:
"OK Henry, I am a very dirty girl, you give me a bath"
"Is this water too hot for you? let me get a washcloth"

Mom breaks in "OK ANYONE READY FOR A SNACK!"

3. Henry and his friend Jack disappear for a little bit at Jacks house. His mom and I go upstairs to find that they have locked themselves in Jacks room and are playing "bedtime" Henry was being the mom, putting Jack to bed, and singing nice little tunes...it was all really sweet and Dana and I sat outside the room and giggled, all of the sudden we hear them laugh and Elmo laugh and Henry "Ooh Tickle Me Elmo" Then we sat out side the room holding our sides from busting.

4. And lastly, good things for the self esteem....
"Lets play jungle, I am a lion"
"OK Henry what am I?"
after some serious contemplation and sizing me up. "You are a very big elephant with a big nose and ears"

And you wonder why I need wine?

Little Mans First Day of Preschool

So today was little mans first day of preschool. I am sure that this is supposed to stir up all sorts of emotions, crying, sadness that he is moving on in the world...but really? I just sat staring at my cell phone waiting for them to call me and tell me to come get him for any number of offences I was imagining in my head. Maiming someone with a paintbrush after having a John Deere taken out of his hand, pooping in his pants and hiding it in a corner of the room, throwing a temper tantrum about having to go inside, outside, to the bathroom, or eat something he didn't want...you get the picture.


But alas, no phone call, not even a blip on the radar. I went to pick him up thinking, "wow, it was a successful day!"


Of course, I cannot have something go off with out a hitch, that might alter the universe in some adverse way.

So, I am thinking that things were all great...we pull into the garage after preschool. Henry opens the door, and proceeds to fall out of the car, knocking his head on the door, and has a lump the size of Arkansas on his head that is now black and blue and is turning slowly into a shiner too...

Arkansas....Do you know how big that state is?????

What can I say? We have more about Boobahs

What to say... what to say... This has been the longest hiatus from blogging that I have taken since starting to write. I thought that I was just sending my brand of crazy out into cyber world with out anyone listening until I started to get emails wondering if Child Protective Services really had picked me up, or if I had been abducted by aliens. But alas, no, I simply had my life blow up in my face. So now after like 2 weeks of no writing I am forced to grapple with what to tell you about.I mean, should it be the addition? my dying garden? Or perhaps the rotting food on my counter that calls to me in my sleep as I dream of being attacked by smooshy cucumbers and squash. Should it be the first day of school? Nah...You know that my life is much more interesting than that...Ah...how about the fact that my son now feels the need to feel my up in public at very inappropriate times? Yeah, that is definitely more what you expect from me huh, yeah I know my pigeon hole don’t worry.So apparently I cannot wear a certain tank top in public with my son any more. I bought two of them. (They are not risqué mind you...I mean I got them at Eddie Bauer outlet... how risqué is Eddie Bauer? Seriously, they are the mom clothes of my generation, so we aren't talking sexy back here.) But whenever I wear them, my son has a very inappropriate response.

Yesterday while talking to my sister at the library, Henry felt the need to run his hands up and down the front of me enough that my sister and I, in a serious conversation, were trying not to spew coffee out our noses. I thought that it was a fluke; Henry was trying to get my attention because I was chatting with Steph.

BUT NO, I had to mail a package at the UPS center. I was trying to discuss the tracking number, and how this was going to work and again, my son, felt the need to feel me up in front of the man behind the counter (who was about 23 or so). So here is how it went down folks:

I put him down saying “stop it” in my embarrassed quiet voice.

Henry: “WHY?” in his screechy toddler voice
Me: “Henry, I am trying to talk to this man”
Man: Trying to look away, and pretend there was something really interesting on the ceiling, and on the floor, so that I might not notice that HE noticed that my son was inappropriately touching me.
Henry: “BUT I WANT YOU TO HOLD ME”
Me: “OK, I will hold you, but you need to sit still” still being squirrelly about addressing the real situation at hand.

I pick Henry back up, and immediately, he starts rubbing his hand up and down the front of my shirt. I put him down immediately. Being done with my transaction, I just say thank you and start to head out of the store. The man is clearly trying not to laugh, my face is BURNING…so could this just end like this? Nothing said, no mention of it, and everyone just pretending I didn’t just have a moment like tripping over the sidewalk in front of everyone…OH NO!

As we are leaving, Henry yells out at the top of his voice while stomping his feet
“BUT MOMMY I WANT TO FEEL YOUR BOOBAHS”
As I opened the door to leave, I hear the guy behind the counter along with everyone else in the entire store bust out laughing.

Yeah, I won’t be showing my face in that store again anytime soon.

Out of the Norm

While I am usually so full of snark and stories, you know the kind that make you wonder what divine being ever thought it was a good idea to allow me to have children, and even better...more than one! This week I just seem to be plum tired. Not that there aren’t plenty of funny moments, I just didn’t seem to have the energy to tell them…until today.

My friend and I had set our kids up to do a project at the library. Now mind you this meant that we had to corral our boys that are virtually the same age in a quiet place, for over an hour. This is a feat let me tell you. The boys were running around, fighting over blocks and cars, and finally settled on putting the earphones for the books on tape, and singing really loud. (Which when you are two and three consists of “laaaa laaa Peanutbutterrrrr laaa deee daaaa laaa when I drive meeeee mommmeeeeeeee llaaaaa in a traiiiinnnnn” I mean we aren’t talking “Bad Moon Rising”)

We started to recover from this embarrassment with lots of shushing and “in public correct parenting,” when, another little boy brought out this box of rubber snakes, flies, and frogs etc… that the library had left over from a Harry Potter Exhibit. Henry, clearly thinking that this is the coolest box of stuff EVER, runs over and immediately picks up the longest grossest looking snake in the pile.

Side bar: Now, I am not scared of snakes, I am thankful that my father or my husband were not there because they very well could have run from the library screaming like pre-pubescent girls if they were in charge…but I was OK…UNTIL, Henry started saying, in his NOT library voice,

“Mommy, come touch my snake.”

My friend and I looked at each other, and in a true Farley brother’s moment, started giggling. (Yes we ARE THAT MATURE.) OK so that is kind of funny, no big deal… the problem is, he wouldn’t stop saying it. He kept following me around the library asking me to touch his snake. The other mothers were laughing, although one of the librarians looked horrified and I thought she might have to take medical leave or something.

He finally stopped when he noticed my friend, whom he calls “Pretty Lady,” reading a story about trucks to her son. He sat down next to them and listened to the story. Then, in true Henry style, stuck his head in-between my friend and the book, looked up at her with his big brown eyes, and a look of true earnest flirtation, and said “Hey, Pretty Lady, want to touch my snake?”

I have found my laugh button again…thanks to Henry.

I Found Out...

...what "I didn't do something bad" could be. I was cleaning the floor in the kitchen and noticed it was really quiet upstairs...I figured Henry was asleep, I finished the floor, and went up to check on him.... I heard "I didn't do something bad"...



Have you ever tried to clean Baby Oil* off a window, window sill, bed, rug, clothes and sheets?



Yeah, I forgot, you don't have Henry...it isn't easy...and I think that we are going to all smell like a babies butt for the next decade, while Henry only has a hazy view of the world through his bedroom window.

*And just so you know, that was a new bottle, completely full....NICE