Boom goes my Head.

I'd gotta be honest, my head about "ah-splodes" at least twice a week. I have chosen to believe it's because I'm passionate about some things. Perhaps many things. Some people have chosen to believe it's because I have a tendency to overreact. They're clearly wrong, mind you. Obviously.

At any rate, the 2nd (or 3rd, I lose count) of these things this week may have made quick work to my vow not to use cuss words around baby E anymore. You know, since he's parroting everything nowadays. Everything.

Baby E and I were on our way home from the Hob.by Lob.by. I'd spent way (way) too much money stocking up for activity stuff for the boys for this summer (more on those plans soon). But I was in a fabulous mood. Because the Ho.bby Lo.bby makes me happy.

We were stopped at a light and I quickly glanced at the car next to me. And then I looked back, because surely I didn't see what I just thought I saw. But I did. What was it, you ask? It was a small child (3ish) sitting in the front seat. No carseat of any kind. With the seat belt buckled, the shoulder belt part behind her.

Cue "what the eff is wrong with that woman??" and a myriad of other cussing and questioning that - somehow - baby E has yet to repeat.

I mean, really, what the hell? Surely people know that it's not okay to put your very small child in the front seat, in no carseat??!!! Well, apparently not. But honestly. Wtf.

I mean, I know people don't know this. Because I see their kids in the Emergency Department after they've had car accidents. And I know that I'm not seeing all of them. I know that lots of those people are blessedly lucky and don't have accidents.

But I see the ones that aren't lucky. I see those babies scared, bruised, broken, brain damaged, dead. I see them. Every week.

Most are lucky and end up fine. And, of course, that is why it continues.

I see the results of kids not properly restrained all the time. But not usually when they're driving around like that. And that, for some reason, infuriated -infuriates! - me.

Look, I get it. You were just going a few minutes from the house. Or so-and-so had the carseat and it was just a quick trip. Or you've done it 23 times before and everything was fine.

I get it. It's a pain to use the car seat every. single. time. Some kids hate it. They scream. They throw fits. It's hard to get them strapped in tight. It's hard to fit the seat in the car.

Really, I get it.

But the consequences of that short drive, that just this time ride, they can be permanent.


Today's Lesson: Please, please, put your kid in a properly installed and fitting carseat every.single.time s/he rides in a vehicle.

Want to know the carseat requirements in your state? Here ya go http://www.carseatsforthelittles.org/2013/04/24/car-seat-laws-by-state/

Want to know why it's better to rear face your kiddo as long as possible (and what that even means)? Here ya go http://www.beseatsmart.org/stage1/rear-facing-seat.php

Want some videos about extended rear facing that will scare you, uh, further explain the reasons for extended rear facing? Here ya go http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sssIsceKd6U

Want to know when your kid is ready to move to a booster seat? Here ya go http://www.carseat.org/Boosters/630.htm

bullets and no uppercase letters

• we've been busy. with idk what. life, i suppose. (so busy that i apparently don't have time to use uppercase letters in this post.)
• monday was my birthday. birthdays have never bothered me at all. 35, however, is feeling old. it bothers me that it bothers me, if you know what i mean.
• speaking of old, baby e looks so old with his hair cut. i'm used to it now, but i don't like it. at all.
• hubby took the kid for a summer cut. now he doesn't have any hair either. i also don't like that.
• baby e is slowly, but surely weaning. we're at once a day max, and fairly regularly go a day without it at all.
• this is probably good as we're down to maybe 40oz of milk. i've been doing half and half bm and almond milk to make it last even longer.
• it's such a bittersweet thing, to think about weaning. in some ways i'm so ready (particularly when i'm pms-ing because, holy hell, that hurts). in some ways i don't think i'll ever be ready. the dance he does when he sings "mulp-mease ready" is one of the sweetest things ever. i will miss it. so, so miss it.
• the kid is gonna be a busy boy this summer with camps. he's going to a tennis/swim camp starting next week. then an arts camp. and just a general outside day camp. all that in addition to his weekly gymnastics and hopefully swim lessons. kid is gonna be tired. which is good for us all.
• we're going to hilton head. my vacation got approved (thankyoubabyjesus). i'm hoping you all can offer some ideas of what we should do/where we should go while we're there.
• we're going to rent a minivan because trying to fit us and my mom in my highlander for a 9hr ride = not so much fun. any tips on how to get a good deal on renting a vehicle for a week??
• now that we're weaning, the mosquitoes like me again. no joke, i've been a mosquito magnet my whole life. if there's one in the tri-state area in the middle of the winter, he'll find me. and that bite will swell to 2-3in diameter. however, not so while i've been nursing. fewer bites and the ones i got didn't swell. until the nursing cut way back. and now those damn bugs like me again.
• that's all i got, folks.
• happy wednesday.

Today's lesson: sometimes punctuation is overrated. sometimes, not so much

Camping Again

Our first camping trip of the season was a couple of weeks ago. We had a great time. Thought I'd share a couple of pics with you. Do not be alarmed. Yes, baby E's hair has been cut. No, you may not actually be able to tell the difference. But I can. And am still traumatized by it.

 

This child seriously loves the camera. If he sees one, he demands to have his picture taken. 48 times in a row.

All of us, after a hike. The boys look cute but good lord, am I a hot mess.

Boys, hiking. Don't let the fact that E's feet are touching the ground fool you. He did not, in fact, walk more than about 1/20th of a mile. He demands to be carried "IN A BOBA!!!!!!!!!!". No hiking for him. The kid at this age would hike for miles. E's not havin' it though.

There's this great creek at this camping spot, which is why we love it. It's perfect for little people to spend hours upon hours exploring.

 

And there's sand, too. Which my little people love. I, however, cringe every time they go near it because getting it out of their hair is such a pain in the ass.

 

And this year there were swarms of butterflies. Who made friends with my son.

Another, "take my picture, woman!" moment. I mean, really, how cute is he?! Even nearly bald.

 

One of these days I'm going to write a post about tips we've picked up over the years from camping with our kiddos. One of these days...

 

 

Today's Lesson: Two and a half years ought to be plenty of time to prepare for your baby to get a hair cut. Apparently, though, it's still traumatizing. For the momma. Not the baby. The baby will be fine. The momma, not so much.

Little Blue Egg

Saturday, the kid and I were in the backyard. I was doing some weeding, etc... in the garden. He was, well, doing whatever it is that he does while he roams around the back yard. You know, moving wood all around. Pulling a broken bench from one end of the yard to the other. Digging holes. Picking dandelions. Hauling who the heck knows what up into his play structure/club house. That kind of stuff.

I looked up, to see where he was with this grueling self-inflicted work, and saw he was walking towards me. He had his hands cupped, and was obviously carrying something ever so gently. "Look, momma. Look what I found over there by the tree." It was a robin's egg shell. "Isn't it beautiful?!", he said with wonder in his face, "isn't it amazing??!! I'm going to put it up in my clubhouse for safekeeping".

I was outside with baby E on Monday afternoon. It was (finally) a beautiful day. Our spring has been short on those. I was, again, weeding and doing garden work. He was also wandering around doing the stuff he does. Digging in the dirt. Eating the dirt. Finding piles of dog poop. (Dearlord, please don't let him be eating those.) Watching rollypolly bugs roll around and try to escape. Killing ants. They're apparently not at all good at escaping.

He sauntered on over towards me. Looking quite pleased with himself, I might add. Which, you know, tends to set off those mama alarms. Upon closer observation, he had something on his face. Little white specks. Then, upon very close examination, they were actually blue.

I knew immediately what was all over his self-satisfied face. "E, did you eat something?" "Yup. E eat a egg. A boo egg." "Was it tasty, E?" "No, momma. Not good." "Yeah, I didn't think so. Lets not eat anymore outside eggs, okay?" "Okay. E eat dirt."

I started to reply that we shouldn't eat dirt either but then I remembered two things. First, pick your battles, momma. This one's about bird eggs. And second, I was known in my daycare days (aka when I was about E's age. Hell, honestly, when I was older than that) as the "dirt eater". Yes, yes I was. And I'm pretty sure it wasn't "just" dirt.  And I survived.

For the record, I totally freaked out about the egg and asked the MD's at work whether I should be concerned. They laughed at me. They assured me that he'll be fine. And, in fact, he is. They're enjoying still giving me a hard time about it.


Today's Lesson: It's highly unlikely that your child will get either salmonella or histoplasmosis from eating a robin's egg shell. Thankfully.

When the School Calls Early

750am: (ring, ring) Hello, Mrs Momma?

Me: Yes?

Hi, this is Mrs Office from the kid's school.

Me: Okay. Yes?

Mrs O: So, the kid brought something to school this morning.

Me: Ohhhh, that doesn't sound good. What was it?

Mrs O: Well, two hundred dollars.

Me: I'm sorry. What???!!!!

Mrs O: Yes, he brought 2 hundred dollar bills.

Me: Wait, what?

Mrs O: Yes, he had them out, showing them to the other kids and now we have the money here in the office. Would you like to come pick it up?

Me: Two hundred real dollars???

Mrs O: (laughing) Yes. Any idea where he got that? Do you just have that laying around at home?
Me: I mean, not normally. Well, yes, I guess, I mean, it's not just laying around. It's put away. You know, like for emergencies. Because I hate to go to the bank. So I when I do go, like twice a year, I get some cash to have around, so I don't have to go back there for a long time. Or in case there's some kind of emergency. I mean, I don't know what kind of emergency would necessitate that. It's just something in my head I need to have. In case. You know? Please don't break into my house because, really, that's all there is. Jesus, why am I babbling...

Mrs O: (laughing, a lot) Mr Principal says there's a 10% finder's fee.

Me: (laughing, uncomfortably). Um. I'll be there in 30 minutes to get it. And have a little chat with the kid.

(fast forward about 30 minutes)

Mrs O and the rest of the office staff: (still laughing) Here you go. Now don't go and ruin his day or anything.

Me: Um, well, he's the one who stole $200 that wasn't his and brought it to school. So, we're gonna need to chat about that. If it "ruins his day", well, that's totally on him.

(fast forward about 10 minutes during which the kid and I had a little chat about stealing and his consequences)

Mr Principal: (also laughing) I heard the kids be like "Whoa, the kid has a hundred dollars!!" so I went over to see what was going on. And I was like, "uh, no kids. The kid does not have a hundred dollars. He has two hundred dollars". The children were very impressed with his wealth. And with the number of Pokémon cards he could have bought with it. Where'd he get that much money anyway?

Me: Clearly we're drug dealers.

Mr P: (laughing as I walk out of the school)

And that was my Wednesday morning,


Today's Lesson: Don't leave $200 where your 7 year old can find it. Or, if you do, don't be surprised when he comes home with 12,034 Pokémon cards. Also, don't be surprised if the police and/or social services show up to your house when you tell your child's principal that you are a drug dealer.

Two

To a two year old, "no" can mean any of the following:

• Yes
• Feed me
• I'm all done
• Give me more
• I love you
• I am very disappointed in you
• I want to play outside
• Take me inside
• I want a cookie
• I want cheese
• I want a gorilla
• Read me this book
• Don't you dare even touch that book
• That is mine
• It's all mine
• Hug me
• Don't you get within 5 feet of me
• Maybe
• I need to use the potty
• I already peed in my underwear
• I am not tired
• I am not yet done with my nap
• Please help me put on my shoes
• I am putting my shoes on all by myself so don't even look at me
• Orange is my favorite color
• I don't like orange

It is confusing to be the parent of a two year old. It must be even more confusing to actually be a two year old.


Today's Lesson: At times, it is confusing to be a parent of a child of any age. It's a good thing they're cute.