The Bumblebee and The M&M

We tricker treated last night. In our town, it's on the the 30th. I'm anxious to learn what other things they make up around here. "They" also have a very strict policy of only tricker treating from 5-8 PM. The police, and not the dressed up kind, will come and get you and haul you off to

your own house and make you quit begging other people for candy.

Not that I know that from experience...

Avee still hasn't recovered from her 16 day old injury so she was carried by me and J, but mostly J and then we had the brilliant idea to put her in the stroller and carry Danyo. And by we, I mean me. I'm the one that has brilliant ideas 45 minutes after the average person would have.

About 45 minutes into the house-ta-housing, both of my children said, within moments of each other, neither having heard that other, "Okay, I'm done." I was really disappointed with these two ninnies who didn't have nearly enough chocolate in their bags for us to be done. Had I known that butting in and grabbing what I wanted instead of letting my child choose was an option, we could have been done within 15 minutes.

After we indulged the kids in their pleasure, begging for candy from perfect strangers, we went and had Pho. Our pleasure. I don't like the Pho ( Fō ) here as well as in Texas, but whatteryagonnado? It was still good. And Avee whales on Pho like you have never seen a two year old whale on Vietnamese soup. It looks like a rice noodle hurricane hit when she's done.

(The Adorable Trooper)

I'm not a big fan of Halloween. Having kids has changed me a little bit. It's hard to resist a chocolate faced, redhaired bumblebee. Or a blue M&M who can't say his R's. I'm also not a fan of anything scary. ANYTHING. I don't even like things that are only remotely scarey and other people think are funny. Not for me. At all.
I sort of figgered my kids would be the same way. They are not. Bo was drawn to one house that had a girl screaming, "help me, help me" from upstairs and the girl downstairs was all decked out in scary stuff and uh...stitches? He asked me, "Are there houses I can go to liiiiike, 2, 3, or 10 times?" He went back 3 times. They had a great time giving M&M's to the M&M.

Then Avee walked right up to some guy with a scary mask and smeared in what appeared to be blood. I laughed when one kid asked him what he was supposed to be and he answered, "I dunno." I didn't know either. I stood close by to rescue her, but ended up just getting a picture of Avee looking like, "Mom, this guy's costume is kind of weird, it doesn't really make sense and even though he's very nice, I'd like to move on to that house with the Starbursts..."

When they were done. Bo's sort of an all-or-nothing kind of kid. He had

to put his clothes back on to go eat Pho. He have some class.

Yesterday when we were out running errands, Bo was begging me to stop at Mickey Dee's. I knew he wasn't hungry so I asked him what he wanted. His answer: "I need some water to chase down the gross piece of candy I just ate." My son needs a chaser? Perhaps I should pay more attention to the crowd he runs with at school and outside.

That is all I have to write about Halloween. It was all I had to say altogether, but a random kid just came to my house. Tell me, are kids waaaaaaaaaaay ruder and bolder now than they were in my day, or am I just an old lady? I never would have dreamed of asking another adult "Why?" when I was told no. Besides my mom.

I am pretty friendly to the kids that come around here. However, when I say no about something, it doesn't cease to shock me when I'm challenged with a "Why?!" And it's not so much a question as it is a challenge. What IS that?
Just now, one of Bo's friends knocked on the door. Bo let him in and another kid followed him. I've never seen this kid before. He walks in my house, looks around and starts to head upstairs where Avee is sleeping.
" Don't go upstairs please. Hey! I said don't go upstairs."
"Why!?"
"Because I said and this is my house."
"I can only stay down here?"
"Nope, you can also leave."
"Why can't I go upstairs and play."

Are you KIDDING me?! Do I really have to tell some kid who hasn't even cut his two front teeth yet why I want to do things a certain way in my own home? I don't think so. It's all good though, I shoved him down the stairs and pulled him out the front door by his ankles. He'll probably think twice before he asks me why again.

Waiting For His Callback

The other day I was watching my friends 3 little, very good, kids. She doesn't read this blog, they are just very good little kids. She takes the time with her family. And isn't it about, time?

So, much to my chagrin Bo picked dinnertime with these little angels, to exclaim, "what the hell!?" for no reason. I will take responsibility for a multitude of indiscretions that are all brought to the attention of many by my loud parrot-children. But I am not claiming this. My word of choice is dammit. And J doesn't swear. Ever. It's not natural I tell you. So I have no idea where this came from. And to make matters worse, the boy can't even pronounce his L's. So he's yelling, "What the hay-oh!?" Not sure why that makes matters worse. It doesn't really, but I wrote it anyway.

Plus, ALL weekend it has been, "I'm just joking" at the end of everything he says. "I don't want to wear socks....I'm just joking." "Avee, get away from me....I'm just joking" "I already KNOW that....I'm just joking." It's annoying, at best.

So tonight I was making muffins for his snack tomorrow (darn school has all sorts of requirements for healthy and so I can't send him to school with the same crap I feed him at home) and he said, "That's so freakin' hot in there," about the oven. Well, that's a word that sounds SO much worse coming from a 4-year-old than I think it sounds when I say it myself. So I did my motherly duty and told him he shouldn't say it and that it's not a nice word. He asked what it meant. I said it didn't really mean anything, it just doesn't sound nice.

"Like hay-oh?"
"Yeah, kind of like that. Only, hell is actually a place, where you are going to go if you don't stop saying hell."
I'm just jokin' I didn't say that.
I told him they were both not good words and he shouldn't say either.

To which he replied, "What the hell!?! You said freakin'! I'm just jokin'! "

I believe this is what you get when you don't consult parenting books enough.
Or perhaps he is a product of a girl who thinks she's funnier than she is and has a potty mouth herself. Hmm, yeah, that's probably it.

Sensitive Bully

I have little to no tolerance for unkindness. That might be a profound statement of the obvious, but I'd be willing to make a friendly wager that I have less tolerance for it than the average bear.

So, it doesn't help that Bo is going through an experimental phase of deciding who he likes and doesn't like. And there are more "don't likes" because....well because he's a stinker. It is particularly difficult for me to let him go through this phase and figure things out, I just want to make him like everyone. Plus most of the time when I ask him why he doesn't like a particular person his reasons are really lame. Like, "She has flat long hair" or "he doesn't like sidewalk chalk".

Today at lunch, Avee had already left the table and this conversation ensued:

Bo: Mom, that pie was really good last night, I ate all of mine all gone, it was so good.
Me: Well thank you Bo, that's nice of you to say, that makes me feel good. I made that pie just for you and Dad, I thought you guys might like it.
Bo: (a little too delighted) ha ha, you didn't make it for Avee!
Me: Oh, I made it for her too, but she didn't eat very much of her dinner so she didn't get to have pie.
Bo: Yeah, that was pretty funny to me that she didn't get any pie.
Me: Oh Bo, it's not nice to laugh at things that might make someone else feel sad.
Bo: Yeah, but I don't like Avee
Me: That makes me so sad to hear Bo because I love Avee so much. How do you think you would feel if Avee said she didn't like you?
Bo: Oh, I would feel so bad, it would really make me sad. But don't tell Avee!

I think that last statement really sums him up well. This tender-hearted sweet boy that keeps being a little stinker.

I do hope this phase passes soon.

When They Are Still Too Young To Object

We like to treat our children like objects.

We had some fun with Danyo today. He's so easy going.

Too Tired For The Jiggity Jig Part

I'm happy to be home. I missed my babies. They did not miss me. That's a good thing in my opinion. Not very nice of them, but I guess I'm happy when they are happy.

Avee hasn't walked on her foot since last Tuesday. She's gotten quite mobile however, and it's really entertaining. When I left, she was laying on the couch crying to be carried everywhere. Right now she is laying under the kitchen table with a poopy diapers singing, "Come and giiiiiiit me" to J. He doesn't think it's funny. I do.

I had a great time in Utah and got to visit with a lot of my favorite people and meet Tori and Suzanne and go to Ikea. In that order.

I know you are all waiting with bated breath to hear about meeting those lovely blogging babes, so I'll make you wait no more.

They are cool. I liked them.

In other news, I have this beastly rash....


Oh just kidding.

Speaking of just kidding---as you may well know, I joke a lot. Even in real life, not just in my blog. I also tend to find myself around people (especially when I've first moved) who don't get my jokes. Not because they are slow. More because I'm not really funny. So, I have a habit of immediately saying, "I'm just kidding."

Well, I spent a few hours with Tori and I made about 3 or 4 of those not-really-funny jokes and Tori got them immediately. And then I looked particularly dumb saying, "i'm just kidding." She's quick y'all. Quick. It was refreshing.

We met at a restaurant and they got there before me because they didn't park on the complete opposite end of the very long mall. Nor did they have to carry a nosey and cute baby peeking out of a sling trying to get people to look at him. In the rain. Because they are smarter than that.
Immediately after meeting them and sitting down to eat, it felt like I was meeting old friends for a weekly lunch. I felt so comfortable.

One time I accidentally said hell. I'm certain I was talking about the place and not "what the hell was she thinking" but I covered my mouth, immediately embarrassed at the terrible first impression I was making. Tori said she wasn't going to read my blog anymore. Suddenly I remembered they know more about me and my children (who incidentally, also swear) than I was giving them credit for and immediately felt better. Meeting people for the first time after they've been reading your blog for a few months, is kind of liberating. I didn't even have to pretend I knew which fork to use for the salad. Wait a minute, we didn't get any salads, heeeeeeey...

I have a couple of secrets for you. I hope they don't mind me divulging...

Tori's quiet. I know---shocking. Not more quiet than NCS, because I think that would classify her as a mute---but she's quiet. Not reserved. Not shy. Just quiet.

Think that's shocking? Suzanne is sassy. She's a great conversationalist and very easy to talk to. That part is not shocking---but the sassy, spunky stuff just slips right in through her ability to make you feel at ease in conversation. I still feel like I discovered a new planet with that one. Or maybe just discovered a planet wasn't really a planet. Like that's ever happened.

Some highlights:
Very comfy red couch in Ikea.
Getting a phone call from Suzanne while in the Ikea bathroom.
"Hi Angela! Where are you!?"
"Uh. I'm in the bathroom."
"Oh. hahaha! Well, I'm here now..."
Suzanne holding a squirmy Danyo all through lunch. I got to eat with both hands. And I did.(Sorry Mom)
Hearing the correct pronunciation of "Sei"
Great conversation over yummy food.
Meeting someone who's more indecisive than me.
Letting two more people experience my tangential story telling and watch them pretend they were following me and that all the tangents in between the beginning and end actually were related.

It was a definite highlight for me in what was a very enjoyable getaway. I hope there will be many more lunches with them. Or dinners.

Or even just pie.



I'll settle for pie.



Guys? Please!?


I have a very cute picture of them from one of our camera phones but I'm not posting it. I'm not prohibiting either of them to post it, but I refuse to advertise my face on my blog. Unless of course, you are willing to pay me...

I stayed up until 2AM every night that I was there. I was slightly more pleasant than a zombie, but I didn't care. I was having so much fun.

But now, back in the land of crying babies, dirty diapers, legos scattered on my floor I'm suddenly very tired and absolutely must go to bed at a decent hour.

I am adding a video of Avee. I tried to catch her effortless maneuvering whilst not using her right leg, but the toilet sort of got in the way. But she's still funny.

No More Monkey Jumping On The Bed

I really did mean for that to be my last post.

One thing I am consistently, is inconsistent.

J told me before he left for work that he was going to be working late, like until 10:30.
I called him at 5:30 just to see if he had changed his mind. If maybe I was so irresistable he would have to neglect his work duties and rush home to the hotdogs and macaroni and cheese I had made for him. He hadn't. I'm not.

While I was on the phone with him I heard a new and heart wrenching kind of cry from upstairs and my heart stopped. My daredevil, crazy cartflipping, box surfing girl was hurt, and I could tell from the cry. Of course, Bo removed all doubt when he started yelling, "Avee bwoke her leg mom!"

There were no bones protruding so I knew she was fine.

Just kidding. I sort of wiggled her leg around and nothing seemed to make her yell out in pain. Then I had her try and stand and her poor little leg quivered beneath her and she fell to the ground. So I carried her downstairs, gave her a binkie, some pringles, some m&ms and let her color on my carpet and couch....happy NCS?

Actually, the binkie did the trick. But she did not move. Every few minutes or so, she'd yell out, "I can't waaaaaaaaaalk!" but she was mostly content to just sit there. THEN she started adding in, "Bean broke my leg!" and I wondered if it was hurting her. I was trying to get some baking done in the kitchen and she just wanted to be held. So I brought her in to sit on the counter.

I have NO experience with serious injuries. I grew up in a padded cell. Explains a lot, doesn't it? I reached down and felt her ankle, which was neither bruised nor swollen and felt heat radiating off of it. I called my friend Rebecca and she urged me to not ignore it and reminded me that Avee is a tough cookie and it could be worse than she was letting on.

Then I took her to a neighbor who is a chiropractic student and he checked it out and said that the most telling thing was her refusal to step on it.

So I took her to the ER. Because I missed the stupid urgent care hours by 12 minutes, in my indecision. I had to wait for J to come home because I'm not interested in hauling 3 kids to the ER. I'm lazy like that.

Her x-rays didn't show anything that the doctor could see. She said a radiologist will look at it today and call if he sees something. She also said that there are types of breaks that don't show up for like a week. How crazy is that!?! So, she has to have a follow-up with her pediatrician and if she still refuses to walk on it today, they'll have to do more x-rays.

Mah po' baby. It's killing me to leave her like this, but she's got a good daddy who can take just as good care of her. Only, he's not as soft and squishy. That much has been determined by our astute children.

Right now she's on the couch in the same spot I plunked her after we dropped Bo off at school. It is driving her batty not to be able to move. And she expresses that frustration by wailing my name every 3 minutes or so.

I gave her a muffin this morning and she ate half and then wailed (I'm not overusing a descriptive word here, everything she says to me is in a wail), "I don't want this, I need to go to sleep" and promptly closed her eyes. She had been awake approximately 17 minutes at that point.

The most interesting part of her ER visit was when the nurse brought in a dispenser of motrin and an ace bandage. Avee objected mildly to the medicine but got over it fast. The whole time we were there she dealt with being poked and prodded, getting uncomfortable x-rays, being made to stand and walk, etc. All without much more than normal objections.
However, after taking the medicine, she spotted the bandage and completely lost it. She started thrashing her upper body and screaming at the top of her legs "No bandaid, NO BANDAID!" The nurse's eyes bugged and she looked at me in complete shock.

"Er, it seems she has a phobia of bandaids, I forgot. She thinks the bandaids are what actually cause her the pain." So, the smart nurse told her it was a special sock and she finally got it on her.

This fear of bandaids is very amusing to me. You can't believe the fun we have at night when there's nothing good on tv. Avee, a box of bandaids--hours of fun.

Tewsdee

Today I took all three kids shopping, and even used coupons. I feel like I could rest on my ample laurels for several days. Which I intend to do.

Avee was given the warning if she didn't stay by the cart, she would have to get IN the cart. For her, that was much like the time in 3rd grade my mother made me wear knickers to school. And I don't mean English knickers.

She lasted about 10 minutes but then decided to go screaming down as many aisles as she could. So I put her in the cart. After the very skillful game of pretending I didn't see her or hear her and getting her worked up so she would come close enough to demand my attention so I could grab her and avoid the whole scene of large redhead flailing down an aisle with 4 month old hanging from crook of elbow and 2 and a half year old yards and yards ahead screeching gleefully because it's all in the thrill of the chase. For her.

When she started screaming, I reminded her that this was the consequence she agreed to before we entered the store. She calmed down, and I thought my parenting was masterful, but I realize now it's because she was already working on her escape from the cart.

However, there was no escape. What happened was, I reached to put back the box that had more calories per serving and suddenly Avee is flipping head first from the back of the cart. Or the front. The end that doesn't have the child seat. I yelped and lunged for her, but she was holding on to the cart, so she didn't fall. She just sort of hung there, suspended in air, kept up by her tiny little grasp.

How it looked then, was as though she was suddenly going to do a somersault through the air out of the cart. Her knees curled up to her chest, but legs up in the air, her head smashed against the cart, and her screaming and Bo yelling, "Wow, that's AWESOME Avee!" When I pulled her up, she had the grid of the cart imprinted across the most prominent part of her forehead. Which made me laugh. And Bo too. She was not happy. However, that event kept her seated in the cart for the next half hour. I'd just say, "remember the cart flip?" and she'd behave. Love natural consequences like that.

Nextly, Bo has started cupping his ear when he doesn't hear me. I am certain the boy is half deaf because he spends most of his day saying, "Say that LOUDER" and I really don't think I'm a low-talker. But twice I went to "yell" at him at the store for running off and he'd turn around and cup his ear, looking earnestly intent on hearing my scold, and then all I could do was laugh.

Thirdly, I'm going to Utah in two days. I am so excited I asoiwenglk aidygwki can hardly see straight. It's just me and Danyo and we're gonna party like...like a 4 month old and his mama do. I am going to meet some very cool girls and spend time with some good friends and family. My friend is getting married. That's why I'm going.

When I come back, my 2 year old will be potty trained (the fact that she isn't yet is totally my fault, I figure a child who can say, "Mom, as soon as I'm done pooping, will you change my diaper?" is beyond ready) and my 4 year old will think I hung the moon again and won't blame me for things like his apple having seeds or his paper getting crumpled when he's at school or shoes coming untied. It will be like heaven.

I'll be back in about a week.