Butt Wipe Addict

Chay is a butt wipe addict. He loves to chew on them. All in their chemical infused glory.

My children have oral satisfactory problems. Ray was addicted to the bink. Now that she's three, she chews her nails.

Chay, on the other hand, wanted nothing to do with the bink. He loved his bottle, which I've professed to before. But early in his life, he didn't really seem interested in anything olfactory.

However, he does have a love of butt wipes. I can't keep them out of his mouth. I watch him like, well, a mother, yet he finds them any way he can: clean, used, or just abandoned. He hides them to save them for later. He sucks on them like they are a drug.

I try to watch him (really I do!)., but not only does he know how to open the most complicated box of wipes, he also has a 3 year old sister who feeds his addiction. We have had many talks with them, but I think she feels sympathy since we so rudely stole her bink away.

Forget the Star, She's Going to Be Alton Brown!

Ray loves to cook. She loves to watch me cook. She loves to help me cook. She even loves to watch cooking shows.

Tonight we were watching Alton Brown. He had cheese. And, suddenly Ray channeled Homer Simpson.

"MMMMM. Cheeeeeessse."

She didn't appreciate being called Homer for the rest of the night. I guess she didn't get the reference.

A Star Is Born

Every month Ray's teachers choose a child in their class to highlight. They ask the parents to fill out a form providing little tidbits of information that help everyone get to know the highlighted child better and decorate a bulletin board with pictures of said child. For the month of February, Ray is the lucky one.

We sat down to fill in her information sheet and had an enlightening conversation.

Me (reading the questions on the sheet): What is my favorite color?
Ray: Red. (She's right. MY favorite color is red.)
Me: OK. Let me rephrase that. What is your favorite color?
Ray: Purple.
Me: What do you want to be when you grow up.
Ray: Uhm. Uhm. Uhm. A star.
Me: A star?
Ray: Mhmmm.
Me (writing her answer down): What is your favorite thing to do?
Ray: I like to fly in the sky.
Me: Oh, because you are going to be a star?
Ray: Yeah. I will fly in the sky with the sun and the clouds.
Me (writing that one down as well): What is one surprising thing about you that no one knows?
Ray: I'm bright.

Oh, baby, that you are.

He Speaks!

Chay is 18 months old and has entered a whole new phase in his young life. He communicates! Well, he's been talking slightly since New Year's Eve, but I am just now sharing this information. Over New Years weekend, he started spewing new words left and right. He still isn't a huge talker, but we'll take whatever we can get.

And what, you ask, was his first word?

Lights (pronouced "ights").

Isn't the first word supposed to be "mama" or "dada" or some such little kid word? No, his was lights. I guess he really liked the Christmas displays.

Please Say Prayers for Collin Bowen

There is a soldier in Texas who desperately needs your prayers. His name is Collin Bowen. Regardless of whether you support the war, please support this soldier and his family. You can read his story at the family's caringbridge blog, here, and get a quick run down, here.

I grew up in a small town called Marion, Indiana. My parents were good friends with Collin's parents, so I was frequently subjected to torture by their three kids (I mean that in the nicest of ways, but come on, I'm an only child not used to brothers). I am the same age as Justin, Collin's younger brother. Most of my memories are of Justin, but I do remember being teased many times by Collin for being Justin's "girlfriend" when we were little. And, man, he was relentless.

Justin and I were close friends from elementary school through college, but we have lost touch through the years. I do think about him every once and awhile and had been wondering how he was doing. I am heartbroken that I am in touch with him again only because of this tragedy.

God bless you, Collin, and thank you for your service to our country!

Edited to add: Please be patient with me. I want to keep this post up top for a couple of days. I will start back with my wit and sarcasm soon, I promise!

I Need Sleep. And Lots of Water.

We are home, and I am tired. I didn't go to bed before 5 am the last two nights.

I danced.

I did not eat much (except for some kick ass green beans which I will post on the other blog. Oh, and a steak cooked by my homey, Drunka).

I met lots of new people. All of whom were very cool, funny, and just generally great people. I hope to stay friends with many of them. (Talkin' to you Jennie, Garrett, Anthony, Maritza, and Dave!)

I laughed. A lot. In fact, I am still laughing.

I drank more than a 35 year old mother of two should. But it felt good to come out of retirement for awhile. Even though I feel like crap right now.

Ray has three new boyfriends, listed below in order of preference:

1. Garrett


2. Drunka


3. Dave.

Chay has many new girlfriends. He has no preference list. He loves them all equally -- Melo D, Ms. Marion, Jennie.

E realized he can't hang with the cool kids anymore. He spent Saturday praying to the Toilet Goddess.

E also is the best hubby in the world because he stayed home with the Mini Me's so that I could hit the bars.

I really really miss my friends already.

C Ya Later Alligator!

Off to Fort Lauderdale for some beach/pool/bbq/partyin' time!

For Better or For Worse

I Just Found $105 in My Potholders!

Another quirky thing about Grandma is that she likes to hide money in your Christmas gifts. You can pretty much count on getting $250 every Christmas (I know, generous right?). For the men, it is usually in socks or pajama bottoms. For the women, your guess is as good as mine. Often times, though, some of that money gets lost because she can't remember where she hid it. Everyone in the family has been hit one way or another, but the money always shows up at some point, which is always a great treat when you find a $20 bill in your pajama bottoms in June.

This year I was the one that was hit. I was "shorted" $100 this year and was kind of excited to find it one day in the future. Well, tonight was the night! I just pulled out my new potholder glove, put it on my hand and, low and behold, I found a $100 bill! Then, much to my surprise, I found a $5 bill in another potholder glove!

Woo Hoo!

Melo D

Welcome 2 FL Melo D and Drunka! Glad 2 hav u here. C u in less thn 48 hrs!

Funny story:

I went to Philly with Melo D once and stayed at her Uncle's house. We got to sleep together on the pull-out couch (she's oh so cuddly, not). When crawling into bed, I pointed out that I need to sleep on the side of the bed that is farthest from the window. She casually asked why but didn't think too much about it.

"Because of the vampires," was my reply.

She looked at me a little funny then turned off the lights.

A few minutes later, she giggled and said, "You do know that vampires don't exist, right?"

I love her because she doesn't think I'm crazy.

A Poor Day for Customer Service

I am sorry to admit that I have been ignoring the shoe needs of my family. After delaying the task for many weeks, I finally bought shoes for the mini-me's last weekend (see previous post). Now I really had to get E his new shoes before an extremely important meeting tomorrow. So I begged and pleaded, and E finally agreed to meet me at the new shopping center near his new shop. But first we needed to feed the mini-me's so we met at Red Robin.

First, the place was half empty. But we had to wait for 5 minutes so they could clear a booth short enough for a high chair (uhmmm...note to hostess, the booth right next to the one you sat us at was empty and clean when we got there). Our waitress took our drink order and then in a very timely manner took our dinner order. After that, we never saw her again. Finally, after an hour and two extremely cranky kids later, we got our food and a free meal. For the record, we left our replacement waitress a decent tip -- it wasn't her fault we were treated like shit.

Second, JC Penney*** really needs to rethink its staffing in the shoe department. E, the Mini-me's and I arrived at the shoe department at approximately 7:55. The girl working in the shoe department helped us out for 5 minutes. Then she approached us and said that because she was a minor she was required to leave. But she promised me that someone would be there right away to help us. Well, we waited, and waited, and waited. Ray and Chay were running around finding all kinds of things that they needed to "buy" and pulling absolutely everything off the shelves. Finally, after 20 minutes, we left with nothing that we needed and only new Tinkerbell slippers that we really didn't need (but had to be bought in another department because NO ONE ever showed up in the shoe department to help us out). Sucks to be you JC Penney's -- we were ready to spend about $150 on new shoes for E. Your loss.

This so-called "new" shopping center has been open for over a year. The "new" excuse has worn out its welcome. I am giving this place one more chance. But I think I'm done.


***My options in shoe shopping for E are limited because it literally takes bribery to get the man to go shopping. Since Penney's is only 5 minutes from his shop, that's my best opportunity.

She Doesn't Like Change

I absolutely, positively, unconditionally, passionately loathe taking my children shopping. I hate it. And I had to do it yesterday. They needed shoes, and since the daycare won't let me send them to school with bare feet (hey, we live in Florida! Why not?), I bit the bullet and went to the outlets.

Between trying to maneuver Chay's stroller around the crowded (and disorganized) Stride Rite store and keeping track of Ray as she takes her shoes off and throws them away (because, after all, we are buying her NEW shoes), I decided that I was going to find her a cool pair of shoes that didn't involve velcro and were a color other than plain white.

I tried to convince her to get these:
She didn't like those. "These are too big and I am too little".

She didn't like these either:
How about the little black pair:

Nope.

After trying on about 17 pairs of shoes, she finally settled on the same damn pair of shoes she has been wearing since she started walking (and look amazingly like the ones she just tried to throw away):

"These are beautiful," Ray declared. They may not be different but at least they're clean.

I Have a Bad Habit of Throwing Knives

My grandmother visited us this weekend. She is in her 80's and has always been a petite little thing. She has always had a knack for saying what I call "Grandma-isms" -- very funny things. This weekend was no different.

We were chatting in the living room on Saturday night while the kids played around us. She got all quiet and blushed a little, then she said "I have a bad habit of throwing knives." Then she proceeded to tell me a few of those times, one of which resulted in a knife sticking out of my grandpa's leg after a particularly nasty fight.

Let's just say, I don't plan on making my grandma mad ever again.

She Learns Fast

While cleaning the kitchen this morning, I overheard the following conversation (Ray and Chay were playing with the Noah's Ark Little People):

E: Ray, who is in charge of Noah's Ark? Is it Noah?
Ray: No.
E: Who's in charge of Noah's Ark then?
Ray: Mrs. Noah.

She has no idea how funny that is.

I'm Talking to the Numbers

In the car this morning on the way to school:

Ray: What does Chay start with?
Me: C
Ray: No, Mommy. I'm talking to the numbers. What number does he start with?
Me: Huh? I don't know how to play this game.
Ray: Does he start with 1?
Me: Sure, he can start with 1.
Ray: What about Papa?
Me: Papa doesn't start with a number. He starts with the letter P.
Ray: No, mommy! I'm talking to the numbers! What number does he start with?
Me: Uhm, 3.
Ray: 3. That's a good number. What about Uncle Tom?
Me: 10.
Ray: What about G-mawie?
Me: She's a 9. ***
Ray: What about Emiwy?
Me: Emily is a 4.
Ray: A 4. I like Emiwy. What about Santa?
Me: 99
Ray: What about Rudolph?
Me: 100
Ray: What about all the reindeers?
Me: 101 - 112
Ray: What about the cars on the road?
Me: OK, Ray. Now you are just being silly.
Ray: I'm not being silly! What number are the cars on the road?
Me: Mommy isn't playing this game anymore. I'm done.


***Jeanmarie, if you are reading this, it is a totally arbitrary number. I put no value whatsoever on the size of the numbers that I was doling out. I really just wanted to shut her up.

This is NOT why I moved to Florida

It is cold. So cold, in fact, that if there was any moisture in the air, Ray would have had her snow wish granted last night (OK, not really, but I could have passed frost on the ground off as snow).

Through this cold snap I have learned that Ray does not like long pants. Nor does she like big sweaters. Her biggest complaints: "I can't see my legs!" and "This sweater is too big! And, I am too little!" I also have realized that I have nowhere near enough winter clothes that fit me since I am nowhere near the skinny chick I was before having two children (which was the last time I had to wear winter clothes).

So, now I must diet. Because I refuse to go buy a whole new winter wardrobe that I will only need to wear about once a year.

The good news is that it is supposed to be 80 degrees on Sunday, so we just may go to the beach. Which is why I moved to Florida.

Happy New Year!

On a whim, E and I decided to take the Mini Me's to Busch Gardens. We decided to go around 10 am and were out and on the road by 11:00. I was pretty damn impressed with ourselves. Ray watched Once Upon a Christmas (but only the Donald Duck part, over and over and over and over) and Chay slept. It was a rather smooth ride, and I got to sleep to boot!

Ray's favorite part of the day was the zebras. And the zebra poop.

Her second favorite part was the gorilla cage. And the gorilla poop. Ray likes poop. She obviously takes after E.

Chay's favorite part was the fish tank. He didn't care about poop. He's the civilized one.