Thursday, June 30, 2011


Rules for completing puzzles:

Rule #1: All edge pieces are to be sorted out beforehand and the frame of the puzzle assembled before anything else.

Rule #2: Complete the puzzle by working from the edges towards the inside.

Rule #3: The last piece you place must be significant, like an eyeball.

Rule #4: The puzzle must be completed at all costs.

Four-year-olds don't follow the rules so I have to leave the room when Big Boy is doing a puzzle so I don't damage his young ego or twitch nervously when he is doing it wrong. He completed two puzzles today (28 piece and 46 piece) and was very proud of his accomplishment. I was proud of myself for not standing over him barking orders while he did it. Win! Win!

(I also sort my candy by color then eat it in ROYGBIV order.)

Wednesday, June 29, 2011

Mystery of the Vanishing Poo

Big Boy: I pooped in my underwear.

Mom: Take it off then. Wait, there's no poop in your underwear.

Big Boy: (sheepishly) I took it out.

Mom: Where is it?

Big Boy: In the toilet.

Mom: There is not poop in there and you didn't flush the toilet. Where is the poop?

Big Boy: I put it in the car.

Mom: You walked all the way downstairs and put it in the car and then came back up here without me noticing?

Big Boy: Yes.

Mom: I picked up one little piece that was on top of that coloring book. Is there any more?

Dad: (interjecting) That poop could have been on the coloring book for days.

Mom: No, it had to happen in the last 12 hours because I put that coloring book there last night  after I brought it up from downstairs.

Mom: Is there any more?

Big Boy: Yes. I don't know where I put it.

Mom: (sighing) You can't remember where you put your poop?

Big Boy: No.

Mom: Oh dear.

End Scene.

Join us next week for the next episode of Mystery of Vanishing Poo. Will Mom find the poop? Only time will tell!

Tuesday, June 28, 2011

What a beautiful . . . .err I mean what a great book you're reading!|main5|dl3|sec1_lnk2|73640

I admit I constantly want to tell the little girls I know that they are beautiful and cute and precious and lovely in so many ways, but I do agree that it can be counterproductive. I know I enjoy getting complimented on my appearance, but as an adult I have already established interests and personality traits that have nothing to do with my looks. This issue goes deeper because I think it can be counterproductive to compliment a child about anything.

For instance, if you are always telling your child what a great helper they are this could lead to the child growing up to be a person who is overly concerned with doing things for other people. Or if you focus too much on your child's interest in dinosaurs she may grow up to be a paleontologist. Telling a young girl that they are beautiful may just cause them to grow up thinking that they are attractive and that could have dire consequences.

Joking aside, the article does have an important point and that is to make sure kids know they are capable. They can look beautiful, but they can also ride a bike really fast or memorize their multiplication tables. So while we should guard against setting our daughter's up for low self esteem regarding their appearance, we can still tell them they are beautiful now and again, but maybe do it after we have asked what book they are reading.

Monday, June 27, 2011

I Don't Know Why My Caged Bird Sings

Every sunny morning I wake up to the beautiful screeching of my little parakeet. She was given to me as a birthday gift. She used to have a friend with her in the cage, but he met with early demise. I have my suspicions that it was a homicide, but I lack proof of her misdeed.

She is clearly depressed. Melancholy at least. Sometimes I catch her looking sadly at herself in her little mirror and I wonder what she sees. Does she see bird failure? An ugly malformed beak? Or does she see what I see? A gorgeously trim and athletic bird vixen.

She has been through falls and attempted escapes. She once hid under our oven for three hours, patiently waiting for us to forget about her. But we didn't. Her cage has been thrown across the room and dumped on the floor. Yet still she sings. Why cruel fate? Why did you deliver this wonderful little bird into the hands of our family? She deserves so much more than grubby little hands trying to open her cage and small babies tipping her home over.

For now, I have given her a new home. One very high up. The last time her perch was so high it resulted in a Mt. Everest like climb for an 18-month-old, but I believe he is ready to let go and just look at her without attempting a dangerous climb in the hopes of spilling her cage. And I am ready for the old bird to have some peace.

She sings still. And again wakes me at 6:30 am. Live on blue bird, live on.

Friday, June 24, 2011

Footprints on the floor

My floors are dirty. Cheerios, spilled juice, spots of dried milk. One of the reasons we purchased this home was because of the expansive, beautiful hardwood floors. I promised to take care of them, but had no idea what I was getting into. Cleaning the wood floors in our home is a backbreaking two hours of labor and it is impossible to do when two boys are running around and one baby is getting into everything.

I now mop once, sometimes twice, a month. My floors have never looked the way they did the day we moved in to our home. God, these floors were gorgeous. The sun reflected off their waxed surface and there were no scratches to mar their appearance. But now there are scratches and the sun doesn't shine so brightly. They are a bit dull and there is always some debris piling up in the corners.

Occasionally I kick myself for not taking better care of them and get in gear to clean them properly. But then as soon as I am finished two sets of footprints and one set of hand prints and knee trails show up on the freshly mopped surface. I am reminded it isn't so much the floors that matter, but what happens on the floors that counts.

(and sappiness over, thanks for reading)

Thursday, June 23, 2011


Little Man has the asthma. Not awesome at all. But there is a silver lining because I have a wonderful story about making an ass out of myself!

Important Note: We adopted Little Man and it is visually obvious that we are not his bio parents. You need to know that or the story doesn't make much sense.

The pediatrician has just gone over all the new medications that Little Man has to take. I am feeling distracted because he is screaming and Princess B wants to breastfeed. In my head I am thinking, "well husband has this too so we know how to handle it." I say to the pediatrician, "Well, my husband has asthma too." She looks at me like I am crazy and says, "Asthma can sometimes have a genetic component, but it isn't contagious so I doubt your husband had anything to do with it since he isn't genetically related."

I should really think over sentences before I let them flow out of my mouth.

Tuesday, June 21, 2011

Cartoon Quotes

I love cartoons. I love the thirty minutes I can get to myself while my kids watch a show. It is beyond awesome. What I have noticed with my kids is that they are each uniquely effected by having the television on.

Big Boy can sit and play with a toy or look at a book while the television is on. Often you can ask him what he is watching and he won't be able to tell you because he is not paying attention. Little Man however is rapt and drawn in by the television shows. He can quote characters and sing the songs. The television is not background noise to him. So I am at the point where I have decided that it is probably best to only have the television on for a short time each day.

I could leave it on for a couple of hours with Big Boy and he would watch and play drifting in and out of the room, but I am a bit alarmed that Little Man can sing the Wonder Pets theme song word for word. I am going to start working on his Shakespeare memorization instead.

Monday, June 20, 2011

Whiner, Whiner, Chicken Diner\

This made me laugh out loud! Whining is the soundtrack of my life. Little Man is especially bad about the whining. Big Boy didn't whine much as a toddler, but Little Man is another story. There is not an hour in the day when noise is not flowing out of his mouth. Sometimes he is talking and saying super-duper cutie things. Sometimes he is crying or needs something. But mostly it is whining. Just constant whining with no apparent goal.

I admit I have lost it a few times with his whining and just shut myself in my room for a bit so I can have a little bit of peace. It really just grates on me. I have even done some research on methods to stop whining. Unfortunately, most of the methods have to do with when your child is whining at you for something. But Little Man just whines. He just walks around the house whining for no reason. Drives me crazy.

This weekend my husband said something that has put it into perspective for me. He pointed out that Little Man is a noisemaker and that is how he expresses himself. Makes the whining sound a bit different. It still grates the ears, but it's just who he is. He is very expressive with sound and is constantly communicating. It ties into his tendency to be orally inclined. He likes to have his fingers in his mouth, likes to gurgle with his drinks, and likes to chew on his toys even though he is nearing three years old. I think it all ties together.

So, yeah, maybe a kid whines a lot, but if we put it into perspective it may annoy us less.

Sunday, June 19, 2011

Kung Fu Adoption

Took the kiddos to see Kung Fu Panda 2 today. I spent most of the movie standing in the entrance hall rocking the baby to sleep. (yes, I took a baby to the movies) Although I missed some of the film, I was quite pleased to see the topic of adoption handled with humor and love. The panda discovers his goose father is not his biological parent. He spends the movie trying to discover some of his roots and as the character puts it, "When did I fit in such a little box? Why don't I like to wear pants? Who am I?"

As an adoptive mother, I enjoyed the message that even though bad things may have happened to make adoption necessary, your life is still full of family and friends that love you very much. The movie encourages adoptees to learn what they can about their roots and do so while practicing awesome kung fu.

We are open with our son about his adoption and roots, but it is hard when you just don't know much. Someday my son will go on a journey to discover where he came from and who he is and I hope he finds satisfactory answers.

Friday, June 17, 2011

Zap Pants

Introducing the latest in potting training technology! Does your little one keep peeing in his pants? Does he ask to use the potty and then just sits there with a vacant expression in his eyes? Our potty training pants will have your little one peeing in the potty within days. I give you Zap Pants!

Forget those pull-ups that get "cold" when your little one pees. What you need is an "electric" reminder to get your toddler in gear! When your precious one is wearing zap pants, the will get an "shocking" reminder not to pee their pants! Our patented technology gives your son or daughter a "spine-tingling" reminder that they need to use the toilet and not their pants when they need to make weewee or poopoo!

Buy now! Batteries not included.

(I'm only half joking.)

Thursday, June 16, 2011

Phone Calling Amid the Screams

How do you teach your kids to be quiet when you are making a phone call? I run a non-profit from the comfort of my home and there are times when I need to make a phone call. Doesn't really help people have a positive impression of the organization when there are three kids screaming in the background.

Today I turned the Thomas toons on for the older ones, shut the door, and then spent 15 minutes putting the baby to sleep so I could make one phone call. Just one. One little phone call. Naturally, as soon as I dial I have to hang up before it rings because the two-year-old has decided that Thomas is no longer entertaining and is screaming to have a snack. So I take care of that. Attempt #2. I dial and have to hang up before it rings because the baby has now woken up. I put her back to sleep. Attempt #3. I dial and have to hang up because I hear the two-year-old sneaking into the garage. Attempt #4. I dial, it rings, no answer, and I leave a message. The last ten seconds of which had a baby screaming at the top of her lungs. Sigh, at least the four-year-old was quiet the whole time.

It took me over 45 minutes to make one phone call. Good thing I don't work a payinng job from home. My ass would get fired.

Tuesday, June 14, 2011

Princess Boys

Yesterday at the store my four-year-old son picked out the product below.
I was excited about this development. He passed over the Cars and Toy Story body wash for this one! The first thing I thought about was this new blog I am doing. What better way to get traffic than to write a little entry on how your son shows a preference for "feminine" things and how you are totally fine with that. Maybe he would start wearing dresses!

At bath time last night, I decided to get some quotes to use in my "my son shows a preference for feminine things and I am totally all right with that" blog entry. "Why did you choose this bubble bath?" He answered, "Those princesses are pretty and I like pretty girls." Basically it is a toddler version of the SI swimsuit issue. Not sure how I feel about him being naked in the bathtub with these stunning ladies now.

Monday, June 13, 2011

Breast Nibbler

I am breastfeeding all. the. time. What others describe as a magical and uplifting experience is more an obligation and duty for me.  Okay, I admit I am just too cheap to buy formula. Seriously, why would you pay for something that magically comes flowing out of your breasts for free?!

The bad thing about this is my child is a biter. She has one stinkin' tooth. One. Which she bites me with everyday. Sometimes I think she may have inherited her dad's amazing playful personality, but she also might just be a bit bratty. She bites me, laughs, and then grins up at me and bats her eyelashes after I scream. What the hell?

So because of this I am in horrible pain. It feels like my nipple is on fire. I will be talking to someone and the whole time I am resisting the urge to put my hand in my shirt and give my areola a nice massage. It needs to feel the clean fresh air people!! That's the only way it will heal!

I'll give it a couple of weeks before I quit and go buy formula and bottles. I keep telling her if she keeps up the nibbling, I'm going to cut her ass off. But she just bats her eyelashes at me and I forget what I was talking about.