Monday, August 31, 2009

Round 2

Due March 21st.

I think most everyone already knows since pregnancy news spreads like wildfire-even across state lines- in Mormon culture. But yeah. Here we go again. We are excited-and when I say we, I mean Adam and I; Eli just says "no baby" when we bring it up. And I don't really know how Duane feels. Chances are he may feel overwhelmed and outnumbered. How is he supposed to fend off TWO kids with red markers?

Wednesday, August 26, 2009

Getting out of here until football commences

Eli and I are sojourning to Utah this weekend. I am tired of the heat and tired of being a mostly single parent to my child who is...well, you all know how he is. I am going to get my haircut, swim at the inlaws' new pool, watch baseball games and let Eli play with his cousins and uncles. I made the unfortunate mistake of telling him that we were going a couple of days ago; now he asks me multiple times a day when we are going to Nannie's house to see the wash and Grandma's house to see the mom has a front load washer which he idolizes, and Adam's parents have neighbors who have goats. He had a full on meltdown yesterday and bawled himself to sleep screaming "Goats!" I keep telling him we'll go on Friday but he doesn't really get it. So that's it. Swimming, goats and laundry-hooray!

PS Football season is almost here. That statement really deserves an exclamation mark but I try to limit them to less than one per post; just know that I am REALLY excited. Go Cougars. Please don't suck.

Friday, August 14, 2009

Eli's WMDs: Aftershave, red sharpies & milk

My poor house. I sometimes wonder what will be left of it when and if we ever leave here and whether I wouldn't rather just cut my losses now and move into a cardboard box that is not so vulnerable to attack. It's definitely warm enough here.

So while Eli was supposed to be sitting in timeout yesterday for dumping out aftershave all over my nice carpet, he was mischievously carrying out a far more destructive attack. What a fool I am! I fell for the aftershave trick! Such a common war tactic that I walked right into: Create a small bit of destruction to take the attention of the enemy away so that the REAL attack can be carried out. It happens in Iraq all the time. Why should my house be any different?

So I place him firmly, perhaps a little too firmly, on the timeout bench. I proceed to scrape and salvage what aftershave I can off the top of my carpet, you know, because we are poor. And for some reason, aftershave is one of those luxuries that I always forget to buy when Adam is out; so I hate to run out of it. (Don't tell Adam, but I seriously put it back into the bottle.) I then tried to rub the rest of it out. At least it wasn't red aftershave... And now there is just a little part of my bathroom that smells like Adam, which is nice since he has essentially moved into to the dental lab. Good reminder of his presence. So we're good, no big deal.

I walked out prepared to teach my son a lesson about messing with other people's things and how we do not pour out semi liquid substances ANYWHERE in the house (a lesson which, as you will shortly read, he desperately needed to hear.) I had cooled down a bit and I was ready to request an apology, give him a hug, and move on to the rest of our day which included visiting the Ontario Mills mall where the Rainforest Cafe is; he loves to go see the fake animals-and frankly, it is cheaper and easier than the zoo. And I actually love hearing him say, while sobbing in timeout, "I sorry mom!!" So I was ready to do that, smile and get on with it.

Lo and behold, Eli was not sitting on his timeout bench when I emerged from my bedroom. I wasn't necessarily shocked, and the eery silence alerted me that something was definitely amiss. I walked into the kitchen and saw him on the other side of the table with a red sharpie pen. "NOOOOOO!" I screamed only because I saw the potential damage that a red marker could do in the hands of my two year old. Yeah, I totally yelled. He gave me his Calvin and Hobbes smile and ran away from me WITH the red marker in hand. As I sprinted to catch him, I noticed this and this. Yeah. Red freaking marker all over my terracotta tile and white walls.

So while Eli sat in another timeout screaming "Animals? Animals?" I scrubbed my tile with a Scott scrubby and cursed myself for promising an animal trip. At length, the marker came off the tile(so go ahead and turn your kids loose with a red sharpie marker; it's totally fine because it totally scrubs out in a half an hour) and Eli helped me wipe up the soap so I decided we could still go. Mostly because I wanted to walk around in an air conditioned arena and I needed to purchase a wedding gift. We'll have to just paint the wall though.

I didn't laugh at all about this incident until I put Eli in the car to leave and ran back inside to put Duane outside on the patio. Poor Duane and the crap he puts up with to be Eli's friend: Red marker all over his back and face. At that point I was laughing hysterically at the thought of my dog just patiently sitting there while my son red sharpied him. And I haven't quite figured out how to deal with getting that off yet. Actually, it's a really funny reminder of how nutso my child is. So I think I will just leave it and let nature run its course.

And apparently this morning Eli was trying to make up for Duane's now permanent markings by offering him a nice big bowl of milk; and as this story has pretty much run its course, I will just go ahead and let those pictures speak for themselves. I think you get the idea.

Wednesday, August 12, 2009

Oh no you didn't

Dear Mr. President:

Did you seriously just tell the starfish story in your latest speech-AND incorrectly attribute it to Ted Kennedy? Uhhh. I'm sorry dude. I gave you a fair shot-a more fair shot than most conservatives in this country. ...and it's not just the fact that you are bailing out every failing industry in the nation with money we don't have, nor just that you are using the power of your immense charm and good spirit to convince people that they want and need something that they don't (government run health care-and I'm on it, thank you. And I don't want it, thank you.) No, it's not just that you seem to encourage and welcome healthy debate while simultaneously ignoring the fact that people are really really legitimately angry about your fiscal and health care policies-both proposed and enacted. Honestly, it's mostly that I just cannot take one more speech with the revolving non-subjects of hope, human spirit, dreams, inspiration and other ethereal non-descript generalities that actually say absolutely nothing instead of the wonderful things that it sounds like you are saying.

I still respect you as our president. I still think you are hot. I still think your wife is hot. But seriously? Cut the crap. The starfish story this morning was the last straw for me.

PS This was the cheesiest picture I could find. Don't you love it?

Monday, August 3, 2009

Several things

So, on Saturday, Eli and I went down to the beach to see my very oldest, dearest friend Brittanie. Brittanie was my very first friend and I sort of adopted myself into her family because they went out to eat at cool places a lot and were kind enough to take me with them. Eli got to play with Indie in between trying to drown himself in the ocean; she was rather disgusted-as most girls are- by his eagerness to immerse himself, first in nasty water and then in dirty sand. But then they watched Jungle Book together while we enjoyed a hamburger with the whole Wilson family and that was good. I love these people and it was so fun to pretend like I was a kid again with them.

Also, Eli thinks that he is Michael Phelps.

We were at the pool the other day and I asked him if he wanted to jump in all by himself, as I was not planning on getting wet. He looked at me all nervous like, and said in a shaky voice, "Yeah..." I laughed and told him that he didn't have to if he didn't want to. Then, he started to count to three and he just jumped. What a champ. My kid rocks.

Sometimes, it is really hard to keep up with a kid who thinks he is so invincible. But I am pretty sure it will pay off in the long run. And let's be honest- I want tough kids; I am tough, so they have to be tough. We are going to go cliff jumping and snowboarding and motorcycling together and there is no whining about being scared allowed.