Movin on up

Miles packed his bags and announced he was heading to the bus station. This was at 9:30 pm on Sunday. He even packed his undies and I praised him for this. I'm a little teary-eyed as I write this - Miles packed clean underwear. *sniff* My boy is growing up so fast these days.

Being the worried mother I sort of am, I encouraged him to wait until the morning before embarking on his new adventure. He needed a good nights rest before making his trek across the hills to the bus station. 

Sure enough, Monday morning rolled around and after a light breakfast of yogurt and cheerios, Miles asked if it was ok for him to leave. 

"If you're ready, then you can go," is what I told him while checking my all-to-important junk mail folder in my Google email account. (I keep on winning the UK lottery for some reason. I didn't know I bought a ticket. I must be really lucky these days.)

Miles picked up his bags and out the door he went, dressed in athletic pants, sneakers, and a jacket. He gave me a hug and a kiss and off he went to only God knows where. Just head West, Miles. Caitlynn was quite worried and ran after him to make sure he was doing the right thing. It's hard to say good bye...

Eventually he came back home, since he realized that he didn't have a tent to sleep in or food to eat. 

But I don't think that's end of Miles' trip. I saw him packing his bags again on Tuesday, complete with a blanket for warmth and apples for food. 

Send us a postcard when you get to your new home, Miles. I just want to make sure you're doing fine. Good luck, kiddo. 

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Zip Zip

It's Zipper Day, kids!

(April's senseless holiday)

What are we going to do today? Zip...Zip...Zip

Common "Zip" expressions:

Can you zip up my jacket?

Your zipper is down.

Zippity do-dah!

My zipper is stuck.

My zipper is really stuck. Damn it!

Why don't you zip on down to the store and get me some beer?

Zip along now.

Zippo lighters are the coolest.

Have a good day!

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Acute Observations

Miles has been making some good connections lately. If you listen closely to what he says, you can learn a lot. He and I took a little walk the other day and I learned all sorts of exciting things. Such as...

Birds don't chirp. They scream.

Food turns into poop.

Fingers have bones. 

T-Rex will eat you.

Monsters live in the ground. 

The monsters were sleeping when we walked by.

We have a jungle beside our house.

Dogs are crazy.

He told me so much more that I forgot half of it. I should have kept better notes. We only retain 7% of the information given anyway, so I'm guessing this is 7% of what he told me. He seemed to drone on and on about dinosaurs. (Something about Montana having lots of dinosaurs; I don't know. I haven't seen any.). Mama? Are you listening? I heard him say. At that point I was too busy blowing bubbles with my bubblegum. 

I hope he doesn't test on this info. If he does, I hope he reviews it. Maybe I can cheat off of Caitlynn. She seems to have all the answers these days.

Wish me luck!

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The Real Housewife of Montana

Caitlynn said I was a housewife. 

Before I get into the "oh-no-she-didn't" diatribe, I need to explore exactly what being a housewife entails. 

If you want to drop IQ points, you can watch inane reality shows on Bravo called - The Real Housewives of Orange County or The Real Housewives of New York City. I haven't had the pleasure of actually watching these shows but I have seen their promos. The next time I have a choice been watching these shows and sticking fiery, hot needles in my eyes, I think I'll choose the latter. 

Are these women housewives? When I think of housewife, I picture a woman wearing a pretty dress with a frilly apron and fetching her husband a his after-work cocktail (a Manhattan, perhaps or a Martini) and then making dinner -- salisbury steak and mashed potatoes. The children quietly do their homework while waiting patiently for dinner to be served. The housewife has everything in control -- her mood (God-forbid she should have PMS), her emotions, her children, and her husband. Now, that's a housewife - 1950s style. 

The women on TV are dysfunctional housewives. In between the Botox injections and the fake tanning, their brains were sucked out their heads. The shallowness of these housewives should be enough to solve the economic crisis -- shopping, big houses, gigantic gas-guzzling cars -- only the best will do for these girls. (Whenever Joe sees these types of shows, he's a bit more cynical than I am. I'll hear him say, "These people are using up my oxygen." "Can the Taliban target their community? Just them. Not the rest of us." "I think they just pushed the women's movement back 100 years.")

So, am I really a housewife? I cook dinner nearly every night, but I like to cook and am even trained in this field. I also take care of nearly everything in the house -- cleaning, laundry, yard work, and managing the kids. I guess in this sense I am a housewife, but I prefer to be called Supreme Ruler of the Household. Decisions are not made without my final say. I like my little dictatorship or empire or whatever you want to call it. 

Here's the difference between me and the women on TV: 

• Botox - I'm only 33 and I wear sunscreen on my face. No wrinkles yet. Gray hair, yes. Wrinkles, no. A couple years ago I got carded for buying a lottery ticket. 
  
• Big McMansion in a gated community - ya right. I live in a tiny house in a tiny community stuck in the middle of nowhere. We have cattle grates to the entrance so the steer don't roam in our back yards. I guess you can say I live in a Grated community. 
  
• Gas-guzzling SUV - Nope but we do need to upgrade to a bigger car. We are looking at a mid-size SUV with 4WD. 
  
• Shopping - I bought some things online last week - sandals for the kids from Lands End (big sale and free shipping) and a keyboard to replace the one that Miles destroyed. Oooo....big spender, I know.
  
• Designer clothes (or pretty dress) - Flat-out no. It's Montana, folks, we don't dress up here. Got jeans? 
  
• Making a cocktail for Joe - Not in a million years. If he wants a cocktail to drink after work, I suggest he visit his other wife. This one was done waiting tables 10 years ago.
  

No reality show for me. I'm not petty, deceitful, or shallow. If you want boring, come to my house. Oh and I have a brain and like to use it. Watch out! Educated housewife on the loose! 

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Saturday Morning Videos

The kids (and me for a bit) played with Phone Booth on our iMac. Here's our video...

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Mom always liked you best!

According to Caitlynn, Miles is my favorite child. This is news to me. I didn't realize I was playing favorites.

I think my mom had a favorite child -- my brother Mike. He was in the middle and she seemed to favor him the most. I'm not jealous or anything (*sniff*). Instead, I was grandma's favorite, which in some cases was even better because she was more likely to spoil me. Thanks, Grandma for all the gifts and cookies! 

But what is it with picking favorites? Is it soooo bad to have a favorite child? I don't know. I have a favorite pair of shoes, a favorite pair of pants, and a favorite band. Why can't I have a favorite child? I know...'tis not fair. So, to be fair, neither child is my favorite.

Basically, they're both on my shit-list. (Oh -- sorry, I'm supposed to be watching my language around here. Damn it.) 

Why Miles is NOT my favorite? Oh let me see...

• He poured orange juice on the keyboard and mouse, causing us to buy new ones. 
  
• He constantly jumps on the couch.
  
• He purposely poured the whole bag of pretzels on the couch because he was mad at me for yelling at him for jumping on the couch.
  
• His way of communication lately is either whining, screaming, or crying. 
  
• He goes to bed at 10:00 pm and wakes up at 7:00 or 7:30. WTF?
  
• He tries to make his own chocolate milk and spills milk all over the counter. 

His only saving grace lately?

• He willingly takes out the trash. 
  

On to Caitlynn...

• I homeschool Caitlynn (I haven't written about this -- it isn't by choice but by necessity due to where we live) and more often than not I get grumpy Caitlynn during math time. Temper tantrums galore over multiplication. 
  
• She refuses to sleep alone in her room and whines when Miles isn't in bed next to her each night. Poor Miles. 
  
• She goes to bed at 10:00 pm and wakes up at 7:00 am. Again...WTF?
  
• When she throws a temper tantrum, she always says, "You like Miles more than me!!!" Always.
  
• Everyday she reminds me that her birthday is coming up and that she wants and American Girl doll. Every. single. day.  
  

Her only saving grace this week:

• She gave Miles a bath. 
  

I have learned to handle the tantrums from Caitlynn. I ignore her and go about my business like writing about her on this blog. (She's mad at me for the Fartgirl post.) At the end of her tantrum, I have to hold her to soothe her troubles and reassure her that neither she nor Miles is my favorite.

Dexter the cat is my favorite. He doesn't whine. He doesn't jump on the couch. He sleeps most of the day. 

He's such a good child. Cat. Such a good cat.

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Target Practice

Miles has started a disturbing trend lately. He pees on our car tires.

We live 2 hours from everywhere in Montana, it seems. A trip to the grocery store takes all day and some planning -- Got the recycling? Check. Cooler for the groceries? Check. Entertainment for the kids? Check, check, and check.

Recently we've been making more trips to town due to medical problems (mine mostly as of late). As much as I should be prepared for these trips, we don't always make sure Miles has gone to the bathroom before heading out the door. This is bad because there are only 2 places to stop on the 2 hour trip and the first place is an hour away from our house. Being a slacker mom can sometimes bite you in the ass, especially when your 4 year old has to go "pee-pee" really bad and the only place to stop is the side of the road. On these occasions, Joe gets out and has Miles aim for the tire. This seems all innocent and funny...

Until Miles wants to pee on the tire all the time.

This is my conversation with Miles the other day:

"Where's the car?" Miles says as he looks out the door, without his pants or undies on.
"Daddy has it."
"But I have to go pee-pee!"
"Well, you just have to go in the toilet like the rest of us."
At this point, Miles is eyeing his John Deere mower or tractor (I'm not sure exactly what it is; he rides it all the time) that is sitting in the dining room. His John Deere has wheels to pee on...
"Oh-no-you-don't! You are NOT peeing on the floor!"
"Ok." And then he starts to carry it outside, naked self and all.
"Nope -- you are not going outside to pee on any tire."
"ok."

He grunted at me and did his deed in the bathroom. I thought this was the end of it.

Joe came home and we packed up the car to go on a 2 hour car ride to make a visit to the doctor. Joe, being a more with-it parent than I sometimes, asks the kids if they need to use the bathroom before we go. Caitlynn runs to bathroom.

Miles walks in from outside.

"I peed on the tire!"

Sure enough. He did. He's good to go.

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Just because...

A little FUN today... I kind of need it. It's going to be a long day for me.

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Packing slip

I let the kids "pack" their bags when we go somewhere. I find it amusing to see what they deem important to take along with them. There are times when they act as if we aren't returning -- Grab all you can! This is the last time you'll be seeing this place!

Miles, being all of 4 years old, has a small Lightening McQueen backpack. Before each trip in the car he stuffs it as full as he can with little toys -- Happy Meal toys, Matchbox cars, random figurines, tacks (kidding), rocks/stones (not kidding), and anything else he feels he can't live without. He even brought along a few books on a recent trip. I was quite impressed until he drew in them with crayons. 

Caitlynn is much the same but she shows her maturity level in her choices. In her bag, you can find American Girl Magazines and catalogs, an umbrella, a Barbie, and her wallet that's stuffed with coins. So, she has reading material, shelter from rain, a "friend," and money. She's good to go.

I looked in my bag. I'm not one to carry a lot of crap in my bag and I refuse to call it a purse. "Purse" seems so 20th century to me.  Some moms have a huge bag full of things to cover any type of kid emergency that might happen in Target. Me? Ha. I'm lucky to have my wallet and keys. 

What's in my bag? Wallet, cell phone (sometimes I forget it), pad of paper, crayons, maybe one pen (if I'm lucky), and crud -- crumbs, mostly. Simple. No tissues, wipes, hand sanitizer, or band aids. I'm not prepared for any emergency. I guess if anything happens, I'll ask the mom staring at me if she can save my child from the impending doom of chocolate ice cream dripping on Miles' hands, face, and clothes. 

I wonder, am I still a mom if I don't carry these things? Can I still get mother-of-the-year if I don't carry tissues in my bag? 

Just curious...

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Survival Guide for Parents

Once upon a time Joe was in the military -- 2 branches actually -- Navy and Army. This was before I met him or a.k.a. "Pre-Marcy Era." Sometimes it's best to divide our past into different "eras." Joe not only has the Pre-Marcy Era but the "Present-day with Marcy ruling my life era." I like how his life revolves around me. 

At any rate, after 9/11 he was asked by a friend about survival techniques in case of a terrorist attack in a big city like our former home of Chicago. He even wrote a short guide giving tips on what to do if your town suddenly blows up and you actually survive. I didn't write the guide because if I did, my tips would have been more like -- "Run and hide." "Duck and cover." "Loot all you can!" "Stop, Drop and Roll!" -- not really effective survival tips.

But thinking about his survival guide got me to thinking about having a guide for parents. What sorts of things do they need to survive a day, a week, or even a lifetime with children? I don't want to make it a habit to give out parenting advice. I really don't know what I'm doing and a lot of the time I feel like I'm winging it. It's like Improv but I'm parenting 2 kids and it's not always funny. Most of the time it's scary...for me. 

That being said, I decided to produce a list of things you may need over the course of the day, week, month, or lifetime that you're parenting or babysitting kids. I think you'll find this list helpful...

• Duct tape: this is for AV, actually, since this has been his advice for some time now. Duct tape has many uses, which AV recently posted on his blog. 
  
• Rope: you always need rope for tying things (kids, perhaps) up
  
• Earplugs: those little turds (sweet children) are really flippin' loud
  
• Earphones or iPod: same use as earplugs but this way you can listen to music while tuning them out
  
• Empty boxes and gum: cheap entertainment for kids 
  
• Paper towels: because they are really messy
  
• Tums: yes, sometimes they do give you heartburn
  
• Tranquilizers: controversial, yes, but sometimes you really want to use it; Benedryl also works and isn't illegal. 
  
• Computer/Camera/Camcorder: REVENGE. The insanity must be documented for future use. See what you put me through?
  

Let me know if you have any questions regarding any of these items. 

Shout really loud and I'll pretend to hear you.

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I got an award...

An award, namely the Neno's Award, has been bestowed upon me by Michael, author of a couple blogs -- Do You Hate it Too? and If You're Going Through Hell, keep going. Big thanks to Michael for this...


The award is:
- a dedication for those who love blogging and love to encourage friendships through blogging
- a means of seeking the reasons behind why we all love blogging.

The aims of this award:

• As a dedication for those who love blogging and love to encourage friendships through blogging.
  
• To seek the reasons why we all love blogging.
  
• Put the award in one post as soon as you receive it.
  
• Don't forget to mention the person who gives you the award.
  
• Answer the award's question by writing the reason why you love blogging.
  
• Tag and distribute the award to as many people as you like.
  
• Don't forget to notify the award receivers and put their links in your post.
  

Why do I love blogging?

Well, let's see... I started blogging as a way to document what my kids do on a regular basis. I would write little stories about them and sometimes email family and friends. Instead of bombarding my loved ones with emails every day, I decided to start a blog to make things a bit easier, I guess. When I started I didn't realize that there was a whole little world of bloggers. My blog was really intended for those I knew, but soon I realized that I could get others to read about my kids and my woes with parenting. 

I started a cooking blog because I was a bit tired of handing out the same recipes over and over again (no offense to anyone who has asked me for a cookie recipe). It helps document my recipes and in a weird way, organize them. 

I didn't think I would enjoy blogging as much as I do. I like reading other peoples blogs and hearing what they have to say. I may not always comment but I do read the blogs I follow on a regular basis. 

I decided to give this award to two blogs that are dedicated to educating us on various topics:

Small Footprints at Reduce Footprints

Brian at Eazy Cheezy

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How did this happen?

Many years ago, my brother Mike gave me a birthday card that read something like this:

A another year older.

A another year closer to being like mom (or looking like mom or acting like mom -- I can't remember the exact passage, but you get the hint). 

Normally, I don't remember every card I receive, but this one stuck with me. He gave it to me when I was in college (I think) and while I laughed at it, I was secretly horrified at the thought of becoming like my mother. Plus, it didn't help that I was nearly born on mom's birthday (missed it by a couple hours). It also doesn't help that I actually look like her, but to act like her? Oh, good Lord, say it ain't so.

As I parent my kids, I often stop myself and say, "Crap. I just sounded like my mom." The little nicknames I have for Caitlynn and Miles are similar to what mom used to call my brothers and I. She used to call us: Skeeter butt, booger, sweet cheeks. I often use: turkey, turd, sparky. I used "sweet cheeks" one day and had to stop in mid-sentence, run to my room and sit in the corner until I was able to rejoin the conversation without sounding like my mother. I even washed my mouth out with soap.

I realize that I may have always been like my mom, but now I'm fully aware of the fact. Perhaps I should warn Caitlynn and Miles of this and give them a fair warning of their futures with me as their mother. 

I will continue to call them names.

I will make good use of guilt trips. 

I will embarrass them if I get a chance by telling stories from their childhood. Well on my way with this blog.

I will laugh at their jokes, even when they aren't funny. 

I won't eat their ice cream cones even though I may want to.

I will make sure Aunt Karen takes them to the Land of the Little Horses (inside joke for the family). 

I promise to be honest about serious issues (finances, health, death, etc). 

And...

I will love them no matter what. 

Why? Because this is what my mom did. 

 

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Walk like an Egyptian

Sometimes kids surprise you. They utter a profound phrase or notice something you didn't, making you feel inferior to their genius. Caitlynn and Miles have both done these things but I'm not recalling the time or place it happened, so I will spare you any bragging. They're smart, that's for sure and pick up on a lot. They know more than they let out, especially Miles who likes to keep his genius to himself. 

Other times the surprises come in the form of actually acting good. I've had many instances where I take them into a store and they turn into Tasmanian Devils, especially in Target. 

Then there was a day last week when I took them on a small road trip to get my drivers license. I fully expected Miles to throw a fit (like he did before) and cause a scene. Much to my surprise, they sat patiently while I took my eye test, had my picture taken, and proved my identity. They didn't even speak. I swear I didn't drug them. I swear. They were actually good. 

They were still good when we stopped at the the supermarket to pick up a few things for dinner. They didn't run around like they were recently released wild animals. In the checkout lane, they saw the magazine rack. I told them they could each get a magazine for the ride home. I fully expected Caitlynn to pick out something completely girlie and Miles to go for something Spiderman-ish. Nope. Caitlynn picked up National Geographic because it had an article about Egyptians (one of her current obsessions) and Miles picked out a National Geographic magazine for kids because it had dolphins on the front. They want to be educated? So weird. 

All this goodness makes me wonder what happened to my kids. She looks like Caitlynn, sounds like Caitlynn, and whines like Caitlynn. She must be Caitlynn. The same goes for Miles. 

Something is up. Hmmm...They must want something.

Either that or I've entered the Twilight Zone. 

Whichever it is, I'm a little creeped out.

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Adventures of Fartgirl

I'm sure when Caitlynn is 15 years old, she is going to hate me for this post. Well, she'll probably hate me anyway because that's what teenage girls do best -- loathe their mothers while secretly loving them unconditionally. 

Flatulence is a part of life, especially with kids. We don't have a dog, so no one here can put the blame on it. The rule of the house is you have claim it -- speak up and warn everyone that an odor is about to spill into the room (or the car). Other rules concerning passing gas -- don't do it at the table or in front of guests. 

Out of the four of us stuck in this little house smack dab in the middle of nowhere, Caitlynn is by far the gassiest and she's quite proud of this. She announces it and takes proud ownership of making us gag, especially in the car. Car rides around here are at least 2 hours one way (we literally live in the middle of nowhere) and more often than not, Caitlynn will let a few rip during the drive, causing us to roll down the windows while asking, "My God, what did you eat?" Gross. 

She even gave herself a nickname -- Fartgirl. I'm not kidding about this. She named herself Fartgirl. Not me. Not Joe. Not Miles. Caitlynn. She laughs every time she calls herself this. She thinks it's funny. 

After I had Miles, I was worried about having a little boy and all thing associated with them -- mud, dirt, stinky-ness, frogs, toads, worms, bugs -- basically anything gross and smelly. I didn't realize I would have a little girl who likes to play with dolls and Barbies, who loves pink and frilly things, and who loves to get dirty and gross everyone out with her farts. 

That's my Caitlynn.

Fartgirl.

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Canadians do it best

I gripe a lot about what the kids watch on TV. More often than not, Joe and I make snide remarks regarding the shows on Disney or Nickelodeon. Remarks such as, 

"My IQ points are dropping." 

"My brain is being sucked out of my head."  

I don't think every kid show or cartoon is terrible. As I've stated previously, Spongebob is pretty good, but I think he was written for adults as well as kids. Shows written specifically for kids like The Suite Life of Zack and Cody and Hanna Montana are just plain bad. I've really tried to watch these shows with an open mind, but I resort back to telling Caitlynn, "I just lost 30 minutes of my life and now I want it back."

All this got me to thinking. You should be frightened every time I state "I've been thinking." Just warning you... It got me to thinking about shows from the 80s that infiltrated our TV set. 

I noticed one of my "friends" on Facebook was a fan of You Can't Do That On Television. Just seeing the logo of the man's face stamped with the show's title brought back many memories of the mindless shows I watched when I was a kid. I sought out clips on You Tube and found myself being transported back in time to when I was 10 years old and watching this show on Nickelodeon. They got the whole "slime" thing from this very show. I remember thinking how much I would hate to get slimed (still would hate it, btw). What do you know about this show? It was made in Canada. It was a variety show for kids, made fun adults, and for some reason it now has a cult following. 

In my thinking phase, I wondered what other shows I could find on You Tube that would transport me back in time. Then I remembered another Canadian show I used to watch -- Degrassi Jr. High. Oh yes, folks... Degrassi Jr. High, which then became Degrassi High. Such good stuff...really. Almost. 

I also realized that MTV had some great shows, too, and I found those lurking around You Tube. This was before washed up celebs decided to take over programming with reality shows.

Remote Control, anyone? Game shows are awesome...

My so-called life (from the 90s). Claire Danes. Why was this canceled? It was actually good.

You're welcome for the trip down memory lane. Just think, I haven't even started a discussion about the disappearance of family sitcoms like Family Ties or The Cosby Show. 

Now back to your regularly scheduled programming...

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Quiet!

I have a few pet peeves. I think we all do. 

Is this one of yours? "Excessive talking during movies." I'm pretty sure Michael over at Do You Hate it Too? did a post about this. He's cornered the market on writing about pet peeves. And yes, I hate it when people talk during movies. 

Joe and I don't get out often enough by ourselves, if ever. On a rare lucky occasion we will leave the kids with his parents (if they are here or if we're there) and sneak in a moment to ourselves. Otherwise, the kids are with us all the time. The last movie I saw in a theater was Ratatouille with Caitlynn in downtown Chicago. (Good movie, btw.) What I noticed when sitting there in the theater was that Caitlynn did not talk at all during the film. Not one word was muttered. The lights dimmed. The movie played. Caitlynn sat quietly and watched. Wow. I was shocked. I told her not to talk during the movie and she actually listened to me. Even though this was a couple years ago, I'm still shocked. She listened to me.

But when we watch movies in the comfort of our living room, the constant chatter never ceases. Caitlynn and Miles talk and ask questions throughout the movie -- even adult films, which they could care less about and probably shouldn't be watching. (You know, they aren't really watching the movies. They enter the room, sit down long enough to ask "Is that guy hurt?" and then leave to watch Bolt on iTunes.) It isn't just adult movies where they ask obvious questions, it's kids movies, too. The first time we watched Madagascar 2, all I heard was: 

"What's going on?" 

"Where are they going?" 

"What happened to the plane?" 

"Where are they?" 

"Where's Africa?" 

As well as commentary:

"Those penguins are funny!"

"I like him." (?)

"Ouch! That would hurt!" 

To help combat this situation, we watch nearly all movies with the subtitles on. In effect, we read our movies. Closed Captioning is also good when you are watching TV, especially Lost. Hearing impaired? Not in our house. Try shut up impaired.

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The News

I know I reached adulthood when I started watching the news on a regular basis. I'm not one to watch local news, but I have to get my Brian Williams fix every night and just have to tune in to 60 Minutes on Sundays. Just have to. It's a compulsion. I record them if I'm too busy to watch or if the kids have hijacked the TV, which is more often than not.

When I was a kid, I remember my grandparents staying up to watch the 11:00 news before bed. Well, I'm not sure how much my grandpa actually watched the news. Most of the time he was asleep in his chair, but it seemed that at 11:30 on-the-dot, he got up and went to bed. Maybe he was faking the sleep as a way to ignore Grandma. Who knows. I remember thinking that the news was such an "old people" thing. Only "old people" watched it every night and cared about current events -- not youngins like me.

In some ways I still think this way. I feel "old" watching 60 Minutes, but in reality, it's one of the best TV news programs on the air. It's not like watching CNN or CNBC or MSNBC or Fox News (God forbid) where flashiness, graphics, loud "experts," and pretty people have taken over the content and garbled it into petty soundbites. No wonder The Daily Show is so popular and poignant. You need Jon Stewart to balance the theatrics of cable news.

I digress... I've gotten off track. This is a blog about kids, my kids to be exact and not about what I think about current events. Moving on... Last night we were gone during the NBC Nightly News, so I recorded it to watch later in the evening. As is customary in our house, I announced that, I, Mama will be changing the channel. Usually I get groans and pleads from Miles and Caitlynn when this announcement is made -- But I was watching Boomerang. I want to watch Scooby Doo. But Spongebob is on. However, instead of the whines from the kids, Caitlynn sat down to watch with me and Miles left the room while stating, "I hate the news."

Caitlynn says to me as she sits down, "I want to watch the news."
"You do?"
"Yeah. Why not?"

Yeah, Marcy, why can't a 2nd grader watch the news with you?

She watched the whole half hour. She asked about the Iraq War, where Turkey is and what Barack Obama was doing there. Very inquisitive. Then she became very concerned about the Global Warming story they aired. She kept asking me questions -- What happens if the poles melt? What happens if the polar bears die? What happens if the penguins die?

Oh boy. I'm so not prepared for this.

I'm not sure any of us are...

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What Would Daddy Do?

Over the weekend, the kids and I took a road trip to Bozeman, Montana. It's about a 4 hour drive from where we live. I could have easily driven there and back in one day but that would have meant 8 full hours with Caitlynn and Miles fighting in the back seat and I just didn't feel like being tortured that much. We had reason to travel to Bozeman, but I don't feel like letting you know this just yet. For the sake of the story, it doesn't matter much. The kids got to stay in a hotel, which they love and Joe got a break from us.

Miles was a bear in the car. He unbuckled himself and refused to sit down. Threatening the cops on him didn't work. (After I told Joe about the incident, he thinks we should have a police officer actually threaten Miles. Wear your seat belt or go to jail sort of thing. Who knows, it may work.) I resorted to bribing him with a milkshake from McDs. That worked until the next time I wanted to strap him in. That little s*** is one strong little f***er. Yeah, you heard me. I promised not to cuss so much, which is the reason for the *.

Anyhoo...

While eating pizza, Caitlynn was theorizing what Daddy was up to while we were gone. She came up with a little list. This her list, not mine. She's quite funny...

Daddy is:

• Shouting, "Hurray, they're gone!"
  
• Cheating on mommy with his girlfriend. (!!)
  
• Eating sloppily.
  
• Chewing with his mouth open.
  
• Running around naked. 
  
• Moving. 
  
• Eating junk food.
  
• Getting all the money from the bank.
  

She has an active imagination, that little girl of mine. No, Joe and I are not getting divorced. Not even close. She mentioned each of these things with a huge smile on her face, definitely tongue-in-cheek.

He was home when we pulled in the driveway the next day. From the look on his face, I know that he probably did shout, "Hurray, they're gone!" at least once. Then we came home, it was, "Crap, they're back."

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Growing Pains

Spiderman - ha! From the mood Miles has been in lately, you'd think he was mutating into a monster. All I hear from him is screaming, crying, laughing that sounds like crying, and yelling. I fully expect him to wake up in the morning looking like the Hulk complete with torn jeans and green skin. 

What the heck is he going through? I've been feeding him his normal diet of milk, yogurt, chicken nuggets, and apples with the occasional banana and grapes (he eats other things, too, but I don't feel like listing every single thing). He eats a lot, let me tell you. I really can't imagine what our food budget will be when he's a teenager. 

Today he played for hours outside in his bare feet. Did I tell you that there's still snow on the ground? It's melting and the temps were in the upper 40s -- far from barefoot weather. He didn't care. Did I also mention he was wearing clothes that are 2 sizes too small -- a Cleveland Browns jersey which he refuses to give up (we just bought him a new one) and a pair of his favorite athletic pants that he's had for 2 years. He got himself dressed today and I couldn't get him to change his clothes, no matter what I said. With Miles, sometimes negotiations don't go so well. I'm beginning to doubt my super negotiator skills I got from watching cop shows and movies. 

Like I said, he's morphing into a monster. I'm going to wake up tomorrow to find him 10 feet tall still wearing that Browns jersey and his Spidey undies demanding I make him chocolate milk NOW.

Goody. I just hope he didn't wet the bed.

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Question of the Day

Caitlynn informed me that her birthday is next. 

She even started a countdown. 

So, for the next month and half I get hear, "My birthday is in XX days." Every day. 5 times per day. Seven days per week. Caitlynn will remind me about her birthday. 

Is it ok if I knock her out until her birthday? Or put a muzzle on her? 

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Couple Birthday photos...

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