Haircuts

Zippy and I had been thinking Baba needed a haircut for a while. But its so hit and miss with that one - he either screams the entire time or is as good as gold, so we put off the hair cut as long as possible (I trim the back when it starts looking mulletish - no child (or husband) of mine is leaving the house with a mullet).

Last Saturday, out of the blue, Baba announced he wanted Mrs. Mooker (he has taken to calling my sister Mrs. Mooker and nothing else) to cut his hair. I called up Mrs. Mooker and told her to bring her clippers.

After a few minutes, Baba decided he no longer wanted Mrs. Mooker to cut his hair. I asked if Pa could cut his hair. He said no. I asked if Ma could cut his hair. He said no. I asked if Mom or Dad or Mr. Mooker or Pudgie (my parent's dog) could cut his hair. He said no to all of the above.

I asked who could cut his hair.

He thought for a while and then said Harvard Zosh.

In the end, he settled for Mrs. Mooker (who's haircutting name is Dalia, by the way. I think she's adopted).

Swedish Cooking for the Sophisticated Urbanite

Ziz, who fries everything (seriously, fish, zucchini, green tomatoes) in butter flavored Crisco has been insisting that us Swedes are weird since she arrived. We are weird because we eat lefsa (technically, that's Norwegian, but its still darn good), Lutefisk (what's wrong with cod soaked in lye with some nice white sauce? And boiled potatoes, can't forget the boiled potatoes), and pankakor (egg pancakes - they are delicious).

But we throw down tonight. Zippy used my great grandma's recipe and made Swedish meatballs. Yeah, she's coming around. Lutefisk here we come!

Waiting for Christmas

We put up the Christmas tree at our house Saturday night. We were snowed in and had nothing better to do. Since then, Baba has been trying to convince us it is Christmas and it is time to open his presents. Every night he says, "We porgot to open our presents." We take turns telling he we didn't "porget" and he has to wait until Christmas.

Tonight we were talking about why he needs to learn all the letters in his name - so he can "read" the packages on Christmas and pick out which are his. I told him that he would have presents at Great Ma's house, Ma and Pa's house, Grandmy and Grandpy's house, and Baba's new house.

He said, "Wow."

He paused and then asked, "Will Harvard Zosh have presents for me at his house too?"

I told him he can hop on a plane and find out. :-)

Heartbreaking Woogies

The boy has mom/dad cycles. For a couple weeks Zippy will be his best friend and Dad has to do everything. Best of luck to you if you try to serve him breakfast in the morning and you aren't Dad. "Want Dad to pour my cereal." "Want Dad put me in my car seat"

Currently, he is on his Mom cycle. Which means I can do no wrong and Dad can do nothing. He wakes up in the middle of the night and Zippy, being a good husband/father goes to check on him. Baba yells, "No Dad! Don't want you. Me want Mom!"

There are plus sides of being his current favorite. He literally dances for joy when I come home from work, or down the stairs, or leave a room and come back. And he has an abundance of kisses, hugs, and woogies for me.

My child is the inventor of the Woogie. A woogie is a pinch to the cheek done while saying, "Woogie, woogie, woogie." Not really sure where that came from. But, since woogies are rather painful (especially when his sharp little claws get involved), I like to sic him on Zippy. "Go Woogie Dad, Baba." And, since I'm the current favorite, he complies.

Tonight we were watching "Santa Claus is Coming to Town" for the 97th time this weekend (okay, so realistically, it was only the fifth time (which is 5 hours of Christmas fun) since Saturday morning, but my tolerance for bad late 60's Christmas cartoons is waning. The "classic" Christmas shows are shows you watch once a year, not once an hour, but I digress. At least we've moved on from Frosty the Snowman. That sucker is only 20 minutes long. That's three times an hour. You do the math). Baba turned around and said, "Me want to watch backwards so I can look at you Mom."

Yeah, just about made me cry. Little stinker makes it so hard for me to leave him.

Christmas Tree Decorating

Every year we put up the Christmas tree Thanksgiving weekend. It used to be Thanksgiving day as soon as we got home from Grandma and Grandpa whoever's house, but now we have a 7 PM bedtime to think about. We'd pull the tree out of the box (artificial all the way), throw on the ugliest ornaments we could find (you know, the crap you made in kindergarten), and then crawl under the tree and scream Christmas carols at the top of our lungs. Silver bells has always been a favorite.





Not much has changed. We are our all older, but we still come home to put up my parent's tree on or about Thanksgiving day. We still crawl under the tree and scream (last year, Baba was terrified of our, um, singing. This year he thought it was hilarious). And we still find the ugliest kindergarten crap we can find. Pickings were slim this year as my stinking mother has started to throw away/hide some of our "best" work. We'll make up for it throughout the Christmas season by putting various crap (empty beer cans is always a favorite) on the tree.





Nothing like a family tradition to put in you in the holiday spirit.

I wish I would have had a camera....

My poor little neglected blog.

Tonight, Zippy and I took the boy out to a neighborhood Chinese food buffet. The food was most excellent, thanks for asking. The boy wanted to try everything. And I mean everything. He tried crab Rangoon, beef with broccoli, sesame chicken, Peking chicken, stuffed mushrooms, lo mien (his favorite), and all the other dishes that were there. He out ate Zippy and almost out ate me (what can I say? I'm eating for two). I ate so much that I had to call my mom and make sure she fed him while he was at her house (she did, and surprise, surprise, he ate a ton there, too).

Some of the other parents were amazed at my child's lack of pickiness. I just shrug my shoulders. I don't know why he is willing to try everything, but I'm not taking credit for it. The way the belly baby is acting, there is going to be a lot of food that it won't eat. I love broccoli, but since getting preggers, the thought of it is enough to make me yack.

When I walked in (I was meeting Zippy and Baba there; I came right from work), I was looking around trying to find my boys. The little Chinese greeter lady saw me and walked over.

Greeter lady: You looking for someone?
Me: Yes (looking around).
GL: You sit there.
Me: (looking there) I don't know those people.
GL: You sit there (pointing at a different table).
Me: I don't know those people, either.
GL: I find table for you.
Me: That's okay. I'll wait by the door.

I promptly called Zippy and told him to hurry up or I'd be eating with some random people.

Algebra

Today Zennie let me do a few of Zalyssa's algebra problems. Call me a nerd, but algebra is way more fun that work. Actually, if given the opportunity, I would do algebra all day long.

Anyone want to hire an algebra problem solver? I wonder if Zennie would let me do algebra problems at the basketball game Saturday night.

So my sister will get off my back....

Baba was supposed to be a cow for Halloween, however, Zippy's co-worker failed to locate the costume in time for Halloween. He was a farmer instead. Zicah went as a bumble bee, which oddly enough, Baba had been his first Halloween (I went as a homicidal maniac or a crabby pregnant lady - your choice).

At first, Baba did not want to go trick-or-treating. He wanted to stay home and watch Curious George. But alas, Curious George was done for the night and his other option was going to bed, so off we went.

After the first house he was hooked. Ring the doorbell, say "trick-or-treat," and get candy. Who wouldn't love that?

Fun with Pa

My child is not spoiled.

My father did not spend several days figuring out how to make his lawn mower run super slow without dying.

I wonder why Baba loves Ma and Pa so much.

I've Never Licked a Spark Plug (even though Zippy offered)

We're back from Boston. Sadly, I can no longer be a Pirate Who Don't Do Anything (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AxLza2Lq1-g), but the trip was fun and worth giving up the title.




Paul Revere's House


We left Thursday afternoon, sort of. We finally got to Boston around 1 AM Friday morning after spending an hour bonding with the MSP tarmac and the O'Hare tarmac. Harvard Zosh escorted us to his bed where we promptly feel asleep.

We woke up bright and early Friday morning and started our day with breakfast (I had a Portabella and pesto omelet - yum!) followed by a stroll around Harvard, Mount Auburn Cemetery where my great, great, great Uncle Newell is buried, and several stops along the Charles river to watch the crew teams practicing. We had dinner with Harvard Zosh and his girlfriend Zory and a neat restaurant (I had fish. I like fish - they are tasty).


Saturday morning we got up to celebrate Harvard Zosh's birthday and then went into the city to walk the freedom trail and go to the aquarium.

Ben Franklin's parents, John Hancock, Paul Revere, Samuel Adams, and others are buried in the is cemetery. A lot of the graves have skulls and cross bones on them. Kinda morbid, isn't?





Irish Potato Famine Memorial






USS Constitution aka Old Ironsides


My new penguiny friend from the aquarium. He is standing with his arms out to cool himself off. He doesn't like swimming because he has cataracts and the other penguins pick on him. Penguins are mean!

I had two goals while in Boston: eat clam chowder and eat lobster. I succeeded Saturday night when Harvard Zosh took us to the Blue Dolphin for dinner (although misleading, they don't actually serve dolphin or porpoise). I became rather attached to my lobster friend and pulled his head off so he could watch me eat.


And finally, for you Miss Zou. I didn't go in, but I did take a picture, just for you:

The Farm: The Happiest Place On Earth

On Saturday morning, after a whole week of listening to Baba say, "Want go Great Ma and Great Pa's house," we gave in. We lost power around 6:30 AM Saturday, so Zippy and I decided to stop at McDonald's for breakfast.

The boy loves McDonalds. We can get him to do almost anything in exchange for a trip to McDonalds. "Sit really still for the doctor and we'll go to McDonalds." "Sleep in your room by yourself for 3 nights and we'll go to McDonalds."

We stopped at McDonalds expecting to hear how Baba wanted French Fries and Apple Dipples. His reaction was quite different. "No want go to McDonald's! Want go Great Ma and Great Pa's house."

Zippy got out of the car to run in and place our order. Baba screamed, "No Dad, get back here!"

I wonder what I could get Baba to do in exchange for a trip to Great Ma and Great Pa's house.

Highlights of Como Zoo

Driving the cars.





Driving the firetrucks.





Driving the dump truck.





Riding on the choo-choo train (not made for anyone over 3 ft. I think I have a scar).





Oh, yeah. And the monkeys. The verbal boy stated that the monkeys were silly, goofy, and funny.

Baba want go Ma and Pa's house.

I wonder why Pa (my father) is Baba's favorite person in the world.

Me want apple

If an apple a day keeps the doctor away, what will 4 to 5 apples a day do for you? Baba is obsessed with eating apples. He wants an apple for a pre-breakfast snack, and apple for the car ride to day-care (its at least a 12 minute drive), an apple at day-care, an apple when he gets home, and an apple before bed.

And, you can't cut it up. He likes to eat it whole and eat the whole thing. Seeds, core, stem, you name it. The first thing he talks about when he wakes up in the morning is eating an apple.

Zippy met us at the clinic for Baba's 2 week post op (the tubes are in and working - hooray!). Baba hadn't napped all day (not so hooray, I desperately needed a nap). He fell asleep in the car and slept through me taking him out of the car, walking to the clinic, getting into the elevator, and pressing the "2" button. When the elevator stopped, Baba woke up and saw Zippy. He said, "Hi Dad, Baba ate apple."

Nursery Rhymes A La Baba

As overheard outside his door while he was singing instead of sleeping.

Dumpty Dumpty sat on a wall. Dumpty Dumpty broke. No horses.

Old McDonald had a farm. Ee-i-o. Horse here. Horse Everywhere. Hee-haw. Horse no say hee-haw. Baba funny. Neigh here.

Baba is funny. I had a very hard time not cracking up.

Poor little blog....

Its hard to find time to write something when you are working a million (give or take a couple hours) a week. I leave the house around 7:15 and usually don't get home until 6:30 or 7 at night. Oh yeah. I also like to work on Saturdays.

I just found out about a new Gap, I mean, Zap roll out. I emailed Zippy and said, "You don't really like seeing me in the evening right?"

Zippy replied, "Nah. Can I invite my mistress over?"

Miss ZennieZou's wedding is on Sunday and my big toe has a chip! It's terrible. I guess my only option is to get another pedicure. Darn the luck.

For Crimes Against France

We butchered chickens with Zippy's parents today. Perhaps because Zippy, Ziz, and I have seen The Addams Family way too many times, we repeated the scene where Wednesday and Pugsley try to behead Pubert for crimes against France several times. We got quite good and hmming France's national anthem. "Woe to the Republic."

Today was a big day of "firsts" for Ziz. Her first time shooting a BB gun (she did not shoot her eye out, we just shot cans), her time riding in the back of a pickup truck (come to think of it, I'm not sure she has ever rode in the cab of a pickup truck), her first time holding a live chicken, her first time holding a beheaded but still moving chicken, her first time plucking a chicken, her first time gutting an animal of any kind, and her first time washing chickens. We'll make a farm girl out of her yet!

S-M-A-T

I like to think of myself as a smart (s-m-a-t) girl, but there is just a connection that I'm not getting. Every time I eat something with gluten in it, I spend an extended length of time in the bathroom, visiting my friend "el throno". No gluten? No getting sick.

So I go gluten free for a few days. I get to feeling really good.

And then I cheat. I alternate between having just a little gluten (a bite of a cookie won't hurt me, right?) and a lot (a whole pizza won't hurt me, right?) with the same results.

Have a learned my lesson? Kind of. Pizza, not worth getting sick over. The Belgian waffle roll dipped in chocolate, smothered with whipped cream and sprinkles I had at the State Fair today, totally worth getting sick for.

Hold me back....

I've discovered Facebook. Do I have time to get into MySpace to?

In a van down by the river....

We went to visit the Mighty Mississippi a couple weeks ago on the way to my aunts house. Baba started screaming, "Baba get out car now. Baba want to walk!" And since he has mastered the doors in Mom's car we took his threats seriously and stopped the car at a park.

Zippy would have been perfectly content viewing the river from afar. Baba and I wanted to get up close and personal with the river (and on the climb up I almost stepped on the dead fish that we had been discussing the smell of since we climbed down the bank to the river).

Baba wasn't content to just look at the river. We had to draw in the sand. Guess what we drew? What's that you say, tractors and wagons? Ding, ding, ding. You are the winner. Baba's tractors and wagons look more like squiggly lines to me, but I'll let it slide. He is only 29 months.

Ever since we moved to Baba's new house by the pond, Baba has been obsessed with fishing (it fits right in between his obsession with going to Ma and Pa's house, tractors, and trucks). So, Baba found a stick by the river and proceeded to "fish". We caught no fish.

The highlight of the journey down to the river (besides the dead fish, of course). Was the airplane that Baba spotted. I'm still not sure how he saw it. I believe the plane was a couple feet below orbit.

Romance

Zippy: You know, I've had a lot of fun with you since we dropped the boy off at your parents.

Me: You sound surprised.

Zippy: Yeah, I am. I mean, I just wanted to tell you that.

Its nice to know after almost four years of marriage (and eight years of being together) he is still surprised that he has fun with me.

Too Young?

Baba's tractor, bob-cat, and combine have been very dirty lately so have had to join Baba in the bath. Last night, Baba wanted me to put water in the lift of his tractor. I told him that water was a liquid thus would run where ever it could and he would need to put a solid in the lift.

We discussed the differences between liquids and solids for a while until I notice Zippy standing in the doorway smirking at me. He asked me if I thought Baba was a little young to understand liquids and solids. I said, "No, that's why I'm saving gas and plasma until he is three."

The Doings

A couple weeks ago, my dad's family had the annual get together referred to as "The Doings." The Doings are generally held at my Auntie Zue-Zue's house. We grill some sort of meat (this year it was pork - yuck. I had veggies and cheesy potatoes) and spend the afternoon drinking and bullshitting.

The highlight of the Doings is the presentation of the Zirving Zfrank Memorial Award, presented to the member of the Zhompson clan who exhibits the most "Zirv" like behavior during the year. My dad won the inaugural year for getting tired of waiting for the doctor to remove his stitches and removing his stitches himself. My aunt won last year for saying, "The bread was stale and the wine tasted like shit," on her way back from communion. My other aunt who was in church with her was afraid God was going to strike her down. This didn't happen. Yet.

There were 5 nominations this year. The first four involved instances of road rage. I was pretty excited that no one had nominated me for this years award until my aunt announced I had won. And what a prize I had won:

After my grandpa passed and his children were cleaning out his house they found what would become the Zirving Zfrank Memorial Award. No one knew what it was or what purpose it served, just that for some reason Grandpa had put it together and held onto.

Every year the winner adds their contribution to the trophy, kind of like the Stanley Cup, but more meaningful, I think.

You are probably wondering what I did to deserve such an honor. Well, I had some plantar warts on the bottom of my left foot. I wasn't particularly fond of my warts, but I didn't want to go to the doctor and have them frozen off. That sounded painful. So I decided my best option would be to gouge them out with an X-acto knife, which I did. I've been wart free ever since. But, what clinched the award for me was my statement to my father about the wartectomy I preformed on myself: "I am not paying some doctor $20 to freeze the bottom of my foot when I can take care of the warts myself with an X-acto knife."

In hindsight, I should have kept quiet about the wartectomy.

Done!

One main character is killed every 81.1 pages. Its by far my favorite of the Harry Potter books.

Harry's Here

My eyeballs may fall out, but I'm going to finish this book before the weekend is over.

Okay, I'll admit, I kind of sort of know how it ends because I couldn't resist and I read the last page. :-)

And now for something new and different for the afternoon.....more Harry Potter!

The Nooner which turned into a Oner that turned into a Twoer...

The cable guy was supposed to be here today between the hours of 1 and 3 - it was after 4 when he finally showed up. We've had the cable installed for just over a month and a couple weeks ago the remote stopped working. We tried everything - new batteries, hitting it, throwing it against the wall, letting the boy "fix" it with his hammer - nothing worked.

So last night, Zippy called the cable company. The unhelpful lady on the other end said we would have to pay either $12 to ship 3 day or $20 to ship overnight to get a new remote. I said to my dearest husband, "Give me the phone." He complied with my request.

Today the cable guy stopped by with a brand new remote for free. And I am now in love with the cable! Why? Certainly not due to the quality of crap on 24/7, but the greatest cable invention ever. Apparently I have on demand. Not only do I get to watch some shows and movies on demand for free, but I get to watch surgeries on demand. Tonight I watched robotic heart surgery for free while eating my gluten free snack.

The other's that share my house (not the boy, he was already sleeping) thought eating while watching surgery was disgusting, but they are weird like that. I'm tempted to get up early tomorrow to watch more surgeries.

Eggs are Nature's Hand Grenades

Isn't that lovely? I tried to eat eggs this morning but my child had other plans - namely eating my eggs.

I heart cereal - trying to go gluten free is making me a might crabby. I miss my breakfast cereal (and lunch cereal and snack cereal and dinner cereal) and I finally had an idea that sounded appetizing - an omelet. Baba also thought it was appetizing and tricked me into going back into the kitchen to get him a spoon. Apparently his cereal and blueberries weren't enough.

Hopefully I find out the results for this celiac business sooner rather than later.

Harry Potter and the Annoying Girl's Buttcrack

Tomorrow is Harry Potter day (yes, I realize that it has been out for over 24 hours but so what!? I am too old and tired to see it on a work night). So what is the fascination? Why am I so excited to see this darn movie? I know how it is going to end - I've read the book twice.

I am very much looking forward to spending the evening with my friends Zennie, Zobyn, Zon, Ziz, and Zippy (dang. How is it possible that I know so many people with "Z" names?) and eating popcorn (no butter, please).

Today was the best day at work ever. Big, the annoying girl, was gone! Who cares that several of my installs when to crap and I got yelled at by the DLPM from Toys in Texas (whatevs Rich, you are still my main LP man)? Big was gone. I could hear myself think. I saw no boobs or buttcracks. And, when I was on the phone, I could hear the person I was talking to. It was awesome!!!!!

Isn't she beautiful?

After we helped her into her dress, I stood back in amazement at the beautiful woman my sister had become. She was no longer the nerdy girl with braces, glasses, and a broken arm. She was a woman who was about to become someones wife. I was on the verge of tears when she motioned for me to come over.

She said, "Toey, I really got to poop. I thought the feeling would pass when I got my dress on, but it got worse."

I did my sisterly duty and guarded while she went about her business. Isn't that beautiful?

Wedding Weekend

Little Ditty married Poonch II this weekend. I have a brother! I've always wanted a brother. We started the weekend with a surprise bachlorette party for Little Ditty on Thursday night. 19 of her closests friends, relatives, and neighbors attended a Saints game. Our seats were literally on the field.

After the game we spent the night at my parents house (my bff from Kansas and a bunch of Ditty's Indiana friends). Friday morning we got up for nail fun (I got a French pedicure - my feet look fantastic) and ate lunch at a little cafe.

The rehearsal went well, despite Ditty's refusal to kiss her husband-to-be after the pastor told her to. The pastor told her they needed to work on their kissing before the wedding. That made me laugh, a lot. I heard the rehearsal dinner food was excellent. Seeing as how I don't eat pork, I had broccoli, carrots, and a sundae for supper.

Saturday morning, I had to be up at butt-crack to have my hair done. My hair looked fantastic, but it was done 6 hours before the wedding. Not a lot of fun, but it held well. We went to the church to get ready and take pictures. The ceremony was disappointingly dry eyed. Judging by the state of the groom the night before we figured we would all be crying. Poonch II is a sensative guy, but both him and Ditty made it through without crying. And my little cowboy made an adorable ringbearer.

Their reception was at a country club. The food was excellent. After dinner we shook our groove thing all night. The challenge of the evening was to polish of the 16 gallon keg my father had invested in. We were successful.

After several glass of beer, we were the greatest dancers ever. We invented such dances as the shopping cart, the walker, and lawn mower. Our dancing kept the band entertained for hours.

Baba's New House

Baba's new house is most excellent. It is complete with a roar room.

And Ziz and Zicah have their own room. Hooray! No more sleeping on the coach for Ziz. She has her own bed.

But, the best part is we have our very own pool, albeit a blow up one. Yeah, we've got it made. Our pool has a sprinkler and looks like a frog. Unfortunately the sprinkler is in the frogs mouth so, in a way, we are swimming in frog drool.

PS Why is our new car "New Dad's Car" and the house "Baba's New House?" Why is there a new house, but not a new car? Why is there a new Dad, but not a new Baba?

Harvard Josh is Missing

Our friend, Harvard Josh, came to stay with us for a couple days (guess where he goes to school...you'll never guess). It is safe to say that Baba has a new best friend. Harvard Josh left yesterday. This morning, when Baba went downstairs, he said, "Where are you Harvard Josh?"

I said, "He went back to Harvard."

Baba didn't believe me but continued to search the house for Harvard Josh. Finally, after several minutes of searching, he shrugged his shoulders and said, "Harvard Josh gone."

When Zippy brought Baba home after work today the search for Harvard Josh continued to no avail. Man, that Harvard Josh can hide! Must be the Harvard education.

Oh Internet!!!

I have missed you so!

Flooring, Food, and Fun

We closed on our new house today! Hooray. After Saturday, Ziz will no longer have to sleep on the couch. She'll have her own bed in her own room.

We decided rather than, um, invest in the over priced crappy carpet the builder was trying to sell us, we would purchase reasonably priced laminate from Ikea that looks great. Our flooring party was 3 weeks ago. I finally got around to downloading the pictures of my camera. I thought they were the pictures I took of Ziz's first trip to a farm this weekend, but alas no. As I recall, my camera didn't leave the diaper back last weekend. Oops.

Anyway, after the flooring was installed. We had a picnic in Baba's new house.

I really thought he was going to explode with happiness at the site of all the food around him.

Baba drive new dad's car

My poor little neglected blog, how I miss you. After we move, I'll get better. Maybe. Probably. We'll see.

I am thoroughly enjoying the terrible twos. My child has a shorter fuse than me, which is exciting. I can out answer any string of whys thrown my way without resorting to, "because I said so." Plus, I love playing all day long again.

Baba's vocabulary expands exponentially everyday. His favorite words and phrases include "McDonald's (french fries and apples, please!), "don't like it," "Baba go to Pa's house," and my favorite, "sure."

Do you want to eat lunch? Sure

Do you want to go outside? Sure

Do you want to put masks on a rob a bank? Sure

Do you know what I'm talking about? Sure

Sure is a definite upgrade from no. Although, no still gets in the rotation. A lot.

Since Ziz's decision to move to Minnesota, Zippy and I have sort of become car dealers. We bought a car for Zippy which Baba refers to as "new dad's car." We sold "old dad's car." And bought a car for Ziz, which he refers to as "Ziz's car." Baba talks about "old dad" and "new dad" on a regular basis. Probably confusing if you don't know he's talking about cars, not actual fathers. Kind of reminds me of when my grandpa died. My grandma has Alzheimer's and was convinced that grandpa was off fighting the war (and when she said war, she meant the big war - WWII) and there was this nice person who stayed with her to take care of her while her husband was away. Anyway, when she found grandpa dead, she said that the nice man that took care of her was dead. Her kids tried to explain to her that the dead guy was her husband. She was devastated - two people that she loved had died at the same time.

Kind of morbid, but it was funny. And, there really isn't another way to deal with watching your grandma's brain turn to mush.

(Think anyone would guess that I got almost no sleep last night and am up way past my bedtime after a long day of packing?)

Thief!

That's it. Whoever stole the first half of May needs to return it. Now. We are moving in a little over a week and I need a little more time to pack.

Do you have the time to listen to me whine

I have had a migraine all weekend. Let me tell you, there is nothing like putting in laminate flooring with a migraine.

But, on a happy note, we will be moving in a couple weeks (Memorial Day weekend). I guess that means I need to get some (a lot of) packing done. Just as soon as my head stops pounding and I stop wanting to throw up every time I move.

May day! May day!

I kinda sorta wanna go to BlogHer this summer. Anyone want to go with me?

http://blogher.org/node/15903

Stay awake, don't close your eyes....

I'm beat. Between working 40 to 50 hours a week, getting two boys and myself ready in the morning, running when I get home from work, packing the house to move in a couple weeks, I can hardly keep my eyes open.

I can't wait until next week when my hours change to 8:30 to 6. In theory, I should be able to take a lunch once in a while. That will be nice.

Puddle. Splash!

I love puddles. Baba loves puddles. We had big puddle fun yesterday.

Baba spent the rest of the day running around (inside, of course!) with only his diaper on because his clothes were so wet you could wring them out.

Being two is an adventure. Being the mom of a two year old is an even bigger adventure. I get to be two again! Plus, my neighbors would think I was a wee bit crazy if I was out jumping in the puddles myself, but with Baba I can jump in and they just think that it is great I'm playing with my son.

Some people's children!

My child has mastered the bathroom lock. I have mastered picking the bathroom lock.

Harry Buffalo

Last night my friend and I went to the Harry Buffalo Bar (I kept thinking, buffalo chips on the prairie, mighty tasty and mighty hairy). Zeagan estimated the average age in the bar to be 25 (my age!). We stayed long enough to have a drink and some apps. When we left, she said, "I'm not that age any more."

I said, "I never was that age."

And I really wasn't. I have never really enjoyed sitting in a smokey bar with music so loud it makes my head pound (I did love playing trivia at BWs, however). Sure, I like to have fun, but I prefer a small intimate party rather than a huge gathering of people I only half know. And, the thought of drinking to the point of loss of control in public makes me sick.

But still. I do love Cleveland and being in Cleveland again. I just miss my boys.

Today I go pick up Ziz and Zicah. I'm fairly confident that this is going to work. She didn't change the dynamic of our little house while she was staying with us for the two weeks and I really hope this ends up being a very positive change for her.

Ahhh, TV

My friend in Cleveland has a high definition TV and cable. We have rabbit ears and a handme down TV from my parents. I am watching the Daily Show, which I love! I watched TV last night after everyone went to bed. TV, oh how I have missed you.

Too bad I don't want to pay for cable. I want to do dumber things with my extra money, like pay off student loans.

Thank you, Easter Bunny. Awk. Awk.

Every year, after the Valentine's stuff goes on sale, I start watching for my favorite candy in the whole wide world, Cadbury Eggs, to make their appearance.

I love Cadbury Eggs. I love the chocolate shell and the frosting inside. I always bite off the top and then suck out the frosting. Yum. I hardly care that they are terrible for me - 180 calories and 8 grams of fat, they are just so darn good.

Is it hypocritical that we, I mean the Easter Bunny, bought the boy almost no candy? He got a new Thomas video, some clothes, several cars, and a box of fruit snacks. Its not that we didn't buy any candy, its just that I ate it instead of forcing my child to ingest all of those empty calories. I am a candy martyr.

PS Last night when Zippy and I were pretending to be the Easter Bunya, we were hopping around like bunnies. It was great fun. (I am debating whether or not I should mention when were being bunnies before we started drinking).

PSS Why, Blogger? Why? Why can't I use "!" in my tittle? "Thank you, Easter Bunya. Awk. Awk." just doesn't have the feeling that "Thank you, Easter Bunya! Awk! Awk!" did.

PSSS Easter is supposed to be the celebration of that dude that rose from the dead (like a zombie?), so why do we hunt eggs that a bunny has laid all over our dwelling and eat candy until we are in a sugar coma?

Baldy Ole Boy

I have always loved little boys with short, short hair cuts. There is something so satisfying about rubbing my hand on their bald little heads.




So today, we brought Baba into the local chain hair cutting place and said, "Shave 'em!" A enormous battle ensued, but the clippers won.





And now, "Hair gone!" And Baba has been rubbing his bald little head all day.





Zippy and I have been calling him: Baldy Ole Boy, Uncle Fester, Cue ball, Cancer Patient, etc and trying to adjust to our baby, who was born with massive amounts of dark brown hair, being bald.

Rain, rain, go away!

It's raining. Again. Still. However you want to look at it, it is raining.

I like warm summer showers that force you to go outside and play in all of the puddles (I wonder where Baba gets his obsession with puddles from?). I don't like this yucky, cold, never ending spring rain. Although, I must admit, the grass is starting to get a little green so that's promising.

But seriously. It can rain at night. When I'm sleeping. I need the sunshine or at least dry cloud-shine during the day/evening so I don't have to run on the treadmill. I strongly dislike running on the treadmill. It is boring. And I feel like a hamster on its wheel.

I wonder if I will ever get to own a hamster. I've always wanted a hamster (among other things) and my mother said when I grew up and lived on my own I could have whatever pet I wanted, but no cousin of a mouse was living in her house.

She lied. Zippy is against the hamster owning idea no matter how much I beg. I'll get Baba involved in my crusade soon. How could he resist, "Hamster, Dadda, please?"

And the Dx is....

Massive periosteum hematoma to the left tibia with superficial abrasions.

Sounds so much better than I bruised my shin bone and skinned my knee.

Happy Birthday Little Ditty. She said to herself when she woke up today, "If I was my sister, I would be having a baby in 3 months."

Meaning, I had Baba when I was 23 and 3 months. She is not pregnant nor married. I was both.

Ooh. Mom! Owww!

I really thought I had outgrown the whole skinned knees thing a couple years ago. I thought once you reached 21 it was impossible to skin your knees. I thought I would be tended to Baba's skinned knees, not mine.





I was so wrong.





Despite the fact that my entire weight and the boy's weight (we're talking about 35 of his pounds plus about 145ish of my poundage here) landed on my poor, defenseless shin, I did not swear. Granted there were other people's children around and it isn't my place to teach them some choice words. I am still impressed with my self control.





I was swearing on the inside.





My first thought (next to not throwing up from the pain) was how am I going to run through this. I must have a disease or something. Here I am completely exhausted and injured and I'm thinking about going for a run. But seriously, does anyone else think it looks like I have two knees on the same leg?

After we got back from the park, I cleaned my wound out (there was a lot of swearing on the inside involved in that) and then propped my leg up in a vain attempt to reduce swelling. Baba thought he had an owie too, so he sat next to me on the chair with his little leg propped up, moaning in agony. Monkey see, monkey do.

A is for Australia, Austin, Abbuwa, Apples, Aunts, Aardvarks, and Anteaters.

The forecast for tomorrow was not so promising, so I ran 9 whole miles today. Despite the fact that I had walked around at the outlet mall (it had been some time since I had been there, I now remember why) and ate pizza for lunch.

About halfway through I got bored. Really bored. I wasn't into my music - I had been listening to it for over an hour and I was running on gravel road - not much excitement there. So I began playing the alphabet game. First time through was a country for every letter, then a city for every letter, then I made up a word for every letter complete with definition and use in a sentence, then something I liked that started for every letter (try to think of something you like that starts with Q - yeah, that's what I thought. Oh crap! I just thought of a good one. Quiet!), and then I had to think of 5 words that started with each letter.

I have probably known my alphabet for 20 or so years now. It is amazing how hard to it is to remember what letter comes after 'K' when you have ran 7 miles and are so tired you probably couldn't remember your address if you needed to.

PS: Why on earthy can no one (Nike, Addias, and Reebok - I'm looking at you here) make a sports bra that keeps the girls from bouncing out of control when you have largish boobs? Why? I don't want to loose an eye while running!

Eh? What did you say, sonny?

I did it. I finally broke down and listened to Zippy's MP3 player while running. I know how bad it is to run while listening to music (FYI: your eardrum is already vibrating from the motion of your exercise, the music causes your eardrum to vibrate even more, thus causing hearling loss), but it is so boring to run for an hour with no music except the random kid yelling or squealing of tires (by the way, why does everyone seem to think my neighborhood is a race track and the speed limit is 93?).

I am justifing in two ways. First of all, my hearing is excellent and if I lose a little hearing ability I may be able to sleep through a certain small child's discussion of riding tractors, trucks, and hiding from pa at 4 am. And second of all, I have the volume set really low. So low, in fact, that with the wind blowing tonight there were times I couldn't hear the music.

Oh no! What if by making myself strain to hear the music I increase my hearing ability? What if I develope sonic ears?

Running

Who would have thought running 7 miles would leave a person so tired? It is hardly 7 PM and I am beyond ready for bed.

Two Foot Tyrant

I have a confession. I love toddlers. If I didn't have to go through the first 12 months or so, I would have about 15 kids. Seriously. I love that Baba's vocabulary multiplies by 4 every day. I love that Baba looks at the world in a fresh way, and I love the he always tries to make me laugh.

This morning, I was awaken by a flashlight in my face and a small child saying, "Up Mom!" First thing on his agenda is find Wili. After that, we have to look outside and oooh and ahh over the trucks and cars going to work.

Then it is time to "eat lunch." It is always time to eat lunch and every meal is lunch. And he always wants "fish" for lunch so I let him have fish for breakfast the other day. Fish is relatively good for you and a fit free morning is good for everyone.

After lunch he wants to "play park" in his "splash boots." But as soon as we go outside he yells, "Brr! Cold" no matter the temperature. He can run at a ridiculously high speed, especially if he is trying to get to his beloved park. Can I make this toddler thing last forever?

Happy Birthday Baba!

My baby is 2 today. More tomorrow. I am "borrowing" the neighbor's wireless connection because ours isn't working.

Life

Ahh, Cleveland. Why is it that everyone who lives here hates the city? I love Cleveland. I love the old houses, the fantastic neighborhoods and restaurants, the skyline, the city, the weather, and my friends. Yeah, Cleveland rocks.

I am very jealous of my friend's new apartments. It is the top story of a beautiful old house with built-ins and a sunroom. It is the apartment that I always pictured living in.

We stayed up way to late last night, drink too many cosmos (pre-mixed - after our margie episode no one lets me mix drinks any more), and talked about where we were in our lives compared to where we thought we would/should be and how to reconcile that.

My friend mentioned how I am so different than she is. Most of my friends say that. The truth is, I don't think I am like anyone. I see bits of myself in relatives, but I can't look at myself and say, "I am so much like ..........." because I am like no one. I've always wondered why people want to be my friend. I am very cold until I get to know people, but once I befriend someone, I will do anything they need (including, but not limited to driving to Cleveland to pick someone up because they need help).

Did I picture that I would be living in Minnesota at 25 with a 2 year old son and little to no desire to have more babies? No. I always thought that I would want many children and I would stay home with said children. I don't know if I want to stay home with future children, I just want the option to do so. I certainly didn't picture working for a security company or living out in the country - I like the city.

For the most part, I am very happy with my place in life. I have a wonderful, fantasic, super-terrific husband, a great son whom I love with all my heart, a job I don't hate (huge!), and I am okay with where I am at. Life is so much better than it was a year ago. Note to self: next time I have PPD, take the drugs.

Post Number 150

Two storms in just over a week! How unfair is that? Especially considering I am going to be driving to Cleveland this weekend and Zippy is going to be driving to Montana. Keep your fingers, toes, eyes, what have you crossed that they are wrong and we get no snow!

The Whole Family

Back row: Little Ditty, Ziz, Poonch II

Front Row: Poopie la Squirt, Momby, Zippy, and me.

Baby row: Baba, Zicah

Aren't we a cute family? Do you think anyone would suspect that Ziz is my parents adopted daughter and Zicah isn't Zippy and my baby?