Cha-Cha-Cha-Chia WHATEVER!

My screaming banshee dear son got a Chia herb garden for Christmas. I pulled the box out today and asked Lucas if he wanted to put it together with me. He stayed on task long enough to claim the styrofoam packaging and took off to turn it into a spaceship for his Star Wars figures. I went ahead and started putting it together. (Total side note, what is Marjoram used for? I have absolutely no idea.) When he came back into the kitchen and saw that I was half done our little project he went ballistic. The next twenty VERY LOUD MINUTES were spent trying to explain my sobbing four year old that he totally SAW ME GET IT OUT AND OPEN THE BOX, but he continued to flip out because I STARTED WITHOUT HIM!

It's clearly much more difficult being four than I remember...it's downright HARD.

Finally!

I threw aside my slacker ways this evening and put up our tree. In true me fashion I decided I didn't have any place to put the tree without it getting in the way. So before I could get the tree up I first had to move a couch. And then another couch. And then all the toys that came tumbling out from underneath the couches when I moved them needed to be dusted off and put away. And then the carpet needed to be vacuumed, because gross! So basically, a hundred hours after I started putting up the tree we finally finished. After all that effort I might as well just leave it up until next year. It would really be so much easier.

It Always SEEMS Like a Good Idea at the Time...

Cutting my punk's hair is akin to bathing an alley cat with one hand tied behind your back. There is much thrashing about and even more ear splitting wails about the unfairness of it all. However, he is in desperate need of a haircut, and he HATES HATES HATES going to the hairdresser. He's been begging me to cut it myself, and like a moron I thought, of course! I can totally cut his hair on my own, how hard can it be? His really thick, somewhat unruly, double cow lick sporting hair. Did I mention how much he hates going to the hairdresser? Heh.

I did it. I went to good old Walmart and bought a nice set of clippers (why not get the nice ones, right...I'm sure I'll be really good at this!) and brought them home to start the clippin'. My home is now covered in enough microscopic scratchy hair pieces to knit a 8x11' HAIR CARPET. Argh! Keep your fingers crossed that the haircut came out okay...I wouldn't know since he fell asleep immediately after his life-threatening trim and currently all of his hair is sticking straight up on his pillow. Yikes.

udated: Yeah...turns out I'm not real good at cutting hair. Back to the drawing board...

Yummmm...Apples...

So. Wednesday I dressed us in fall colors and cute mud boots and grabbed my camera and off we headed to the apple orchard. Because apple orchards are prime real estate for picture taking, not just for picking apples. Lucas and I chose the very biggest bag and the nice little old lady at the register explained to us where to pick and why all the apples had funny looking spots on them, which honestly made me want to chose a smaller bag but it was too late...we were committed to the 1/2 bushel. Off we trucked through the orchard to the far end to find the very best apples. The little old lady was right, every apple was damaged from a hail storm early in the season. Lucas was helpful for about a millisecond, long enough only to pick an apple for himself to eat. But not with the the skin on, heaven forbid he might choke on the skin, and so I (gross) peeled off the skin with my teeth (which of course lodged the apple skin in between my teeth, even more gross). So while he gazed off into the sunshine whining about how HE WANTED TO GO HOME NOOOOW!! I very gently picked the most perfect apples from the center of each tree, hoping they would be less damaged than the ones on the outside. Once our ginormous bag was full and I had snapped a few pictures of Lucas eating his apple and swatting at gnatty-bugs, we headed back towards the farm stand to pay; me carefully balancing our precious bag of apples and my camera equipment, him complaining that the WALK WAS TOO FAAAAAR!!

Ah! But the fun doesn't end, because the nice little old lady told me we couldn't pay there, we had to drive down the road to another stand to pay, and if I were a dishonest person, I would have taken that as my cue to head straight home. But no. We schlepped over to the next farm stand to pay there, and wouldn't you know it!? They also had a TRAIN TABLE! Which means I was stuck there for another twenty minutes while Lucas flitted around a dusty broken train table that is ever so much more interesting than his own fully loaded train table at home, don't you know? We were finally back on the road again grooving to the Jonas Brothers (don't make fun...we're hooked) and we were about a block from our apartment when the garbage truck ahead of us slammed on it's brakes, which in turn made me slam on my brakes, which in turn made all those apples that I had just lovingly picked fall to the floor of my car in a sad bruised heap, which in turn made me swear.

All that is the very long version of: We went apple picking and Lucas got to play on a train table and I now have Macintosh apples growing out my ears. Pictures to follow.

Halloween Countdown

Today my son would like to be this for Halloween...

That brings the costume count to 5 so far:

Gorilla

Fireman

Banana

Spiderman

Black Venom Spiderman

Each new request finds me furiously scouring Ebay for a deal, let's just be thankful I keep getting outbid in the final seconds by other mothers who have fallen into the same trap.

I will chalk this year up to a rookie mistake, and next year, I will not mention Halloween until the night before Halloween. Consider me schooled.

Make a List. Check.

I am sitting here writing out a list of things to do tomorrow, and it's already longer than I have hours in the day, but still, my list writing is not done. If the length of this list wasn't my own fault, I might feel a little grumpy, but as I exercise extreme laziness for long stretches, the universe demands that it will eventually all catch up to me. You know...the day before my company arrives. Truth be told, I won't get half of it done...and I won't feel bad about the other half because I'm just not wired that way. If I don't get around to scrubbing the tub before people arrive at my doorstep and expect to bathe in it, the sky won't fall. (Hi Jenn! Sorry...my tub might be dirty! But I'll have plenty of toilet paper...and really? Isn't that more important? I thought so!)

Lucas is excited about my list because I have assigned him the task of checking each thing off as we complete it. Wish us luck, as we shall need it.

All For This Mediocre Picture

I was driving home from the movies last night (where I saw Mamma Mia, incidentally). I'm going to have to veer off topic for just a moment to say that, while I thought the movie was wonderful, every time Pierce Brosnan geared himself up to start belting out the words the entire audience would start to snicker. The man made an excellent 007...but the dude can not sing, making him an illogical choice for a musical's leading fella...just sayin'.

Anyway...on the way home I turned on to our road and saw the most magnificent looking fiery-red moon. Lucas was sound asleep in the back seat so I ran inside, grabbed my camera and headed back down the road to find the best place to take a picture. Since it was pitch black out, and traffic was still pretty heavy, I couldn't really find a good spot to pull over. I drove around for a few minutes and realized there was no safe place to stop so I drove back to our apartment. We live on a very heavily tree-lined street but there was just one little spot where I had a good shot at a decent picture. So at 10pm, dressed mostly in black, on a pitch black street with no street lamps, on the blind end of a curving road, I stood in the center of the street, held my breath and tried to get a good shot. Of course the shutter stayed open for so long that I thought for sure a car was going to strike me down...and all I got for my efforts was this lousy picture! I figured I had to post it, for all the effort it took to take it.

I know it doesn't look anything like a fiery moon...but let's just pretend, shall we?

Like Totally

Totally is the word of the week. "Like, that is so totally totally cool!" is something that I've been hearing A LOT from my four year old. I would blame this on my fifteen year old brother, but honestly, he finds nothing on the planet cool right now, simply by virtue of being a fifteen year old guy. So instead I shall blame the Disney channel...'cause I can guarantee that I do not walk around say things like "totally cool".

Anyway...we spent the day at the park yesterday despite the temperature and it went a little something like this:

This was the only support beam at the park where the wording was upright...it made me start to wonder what else in the structure was built upside down or incorrectly. But I had a cold diet Pepsi in my hand and a good book to read so I let it go.

He is the picture of happiness...playing hide and seek with me is so TOTALLY fun when he is the person seeking...

And so TOTALLY NOT FUN when he is sought out before he's ready.

Oh Sure, I Can Laugh About it Now...

Let's start by saying that it certainly could have been worse. I was running a few errands yesterday and I had Lucas in the shopping cart. What, you say, Lucas can still fit in the shopping cart? Why yes, but just barely. So, our errands were done and I pushed our cart to the car. Our car that was parked on a bit of an incline. (You already know where this is going, right?) I parked him next to the car and turned around to unlock the door and turn the AC on high and I hear a frantic horn beeping. I pulled my head out of the car just in time to see my son flying across the parking lot with his drink still firmly clutched between his hands, screaming at the top of his lungs and veering dangerously close to a shiny, parked SUV. My cheap flip-flops have never moved so fast. I actually caught him within a few inches of the parked car he was about to topple into. I could really care less about the cart hitting the SUV...that's the sort of thing insurance is for. But I was panicked that the impact would send the cart flying and he'd get hurt. But he didn't. 'Cause I'm fast, even in flip-flops. I might never be able to move that fast again...it was that fast.

Of course, when I retell the story NOW, it's funny, but PHEW! That was a close one. One I'm not likely to forget anytime soon as he reminds every time we pass a shopping cart, that lovely boy.

Week at a Glance

We have a very busy week planned, and if all the stars align just right, it won't rain every single day that I have off. It would be lovely to use that fancy new camera of mine...but I can't take it anywhere in a downpour. So we have the next five days or so filled with play dates, play dates, more play dates, company (Hi AUNT MARY!) and parties. I'm tired just thinking about it. But we'll have fun. We seem to have fun no matter where we go or who we're with...

And in a completely unrelated but very funny note...

(I am blushing even as I write this)

I was getting ready for work yesterday, fresh out of the shower to be exact, blow drying my hair bare nakey in front of the mirror when I realized my bestest friend was laughing her ass off at me from the bottom of the stairs. Lucky me that the front door is at the base of the stairs and the bathroom is located directly at the top! I never forget to lock the door before I go upstairs to hop in the shower because I know that Lucas, friendly little bugger that he is, will let in anyone that knocks. It just figures that the one day I forget we get company! Hehehehe! She got quite an eyeful, I'm sure...poor girl.

I Shall Poll the Audience

On a scale of 1 to 10, please rate the following scenario, 1 being "Oh my, how's that migraine coming along" and 10 being "Oh my, what a lovely sounding day you've had!":

I put my friend's wee little daughter in her Kelty backpack and strapped her to my back, for today was a hiking day, and we were about to tackle a very tame trail with the boys in our efforts towards fitness. Lucas was very excited for about the first 15 feet, and then it began...carry me, my feet hurt, my head hurts, it's too hot, I can't make it, we're going too fast, wait for me, whaaaa I stepped on a stick, whaaaa I stepped on a leaf, put that baby down and caaaaaaaaaaaarry meeeeeeeeeee. Oh my good heavens. Like I could even actually carry that full grown boy in a Kelty backpack anyway. It never ended. The entire hike was a colossal whine-fest. By the end I was ready to leave him in the woods. We cut the hike short because I had to (blessfully) go to work.

At the very least, I can say that I must have burned some calories. Not from carrying the sweet little girl in the backpack, but from dragging my pitiful son the entirety of the trail. I am exhausted just remembering it. My friend said that by the tenth time we did that trail, Lucas would just race right though it without any trouble, and I almost teared up thinking of going through that nine more times. We are clearly not yet good at being outdoorsy people.

Sold Me Out

I heard my child telling the (grown-up) guest of honor at a birthday party today to go yell at me for "breakin' his stick". Heaven forbid he not just chose another stick from the eleventy billion that were strewn across the front and back yards...oh no, he was furious that I not only dared to touch a stick from his "collection", but that I also had the nerve to break it. (For the record, we were building...and I was helping...) And then, of course, once he got a bee in his bonnet about the stick, well then everything I looked at was just wrong. So I just stood there with my eyes closed and my arms crossed until it was time to leave. Well...not really. He did eventually forget that he was peeved about the stick and turned right back in to his happy helpful self...but it was touch and go there for a while.

If Only...

we had someplace to wear a suit coat. I bought this wool coat for Lucas when he was about a year old. It was a size 4 and he was maybe a size 2 at the most, but it had been marked down from $79.00 to something much much less, and I figured surely he would have a chance to wear it some place special. I found it today in the back of his closet collecting dust with it's tags still on. Even though he is a solid size 5 now...I made him put it on just I could take a picture. And because he is a four year old boy...I had to take a dozen pictures of goofy faces before I got one without waggling tongues or googly eyes.

Sent to his Room

Oh, the tears. And the drama. Did I mention the tears?

We were having a perfectly lovely day puttering around the house when I realized that the plow man, who doesn't normally grace us with his presence until 2pm on most days, decided to whip through our complex a few hours early...while I was in the shower. Since I didn't hear him coming, I didn't move my car out to the other side of the lot so that he could plow out our parking spaces (which would have been really really swell since we're in the throws of an ice storm and it's, well, icy). Great. Not wanting to tick off my neighbor, who also didn't get his parking area plowed thanks to me, I dressed Lucas and myself, (I was wearing capri pajama bottoms, orange and pink flowered rain boots, a sweatshirt and damp hair...thank you for wondering) and we headed out to do what the plow man did not. I didn't realize that any part of shoveling involved pitching a right fit, so I was unprepared for what came next.

My shovel touched his snow.

And then all hell broke loose and world ended. So if you felt like there some sort of cosmic shift today but you couldn't really put your finger on it? That was totally my fault and I'm sorry.

The tears wouldn't stop and the whining got louder and I tried to explain to him that, hello!? There is PLENTY of snow to go around. Like actual metric tons of snow. Take your pick...how 'bout some of this snow, or maybe some from that pile over there? No? How about if I take that tiny bit of snow that my shovel touched and put it back into your pile there and then never look at your snow pile or your shovel ever again? Still no?

I couldn't take another second of the screeching so I pointed my finger at him and then at our front door and I demanded that he GO. TO. HIS. ROOM. I have never sent him to room before. I wasn't even sure after I ordered him to go that he would know what to do. Which sounds silly, I know...but...still. I let him struggle a little with the door and he made his way in and closed it behind him. I continued to shovel until I was done (or mostly done) and I went inside to survey the damage. Heh. I had to try REALLY hard not to laugh. There inside the door were his boots, right where they belong and his jacket was hung on his hook. So even in the throws of a good tantrum he had the presence of mind not to track snow through the house. Good boy. He heard me come in and hollered down the stairs from his bed that he was "wicked sad and needed a hug." And then I felt like a big dirt bag but at least he wasn't flipping out. We hugged it out and all was good, but he did feel the need to remind me every hour or so that I shouldn't have put my shovel in his pile of snow.

Lesson learned.

Misinformed

Apparently my kid thought that with the ripe old age of four came certain privileges...like driving the car. I assumed he thought I was joking when I said I bought him a car for his birthday. He assumed I was serious. Oops.

We were dashing out the door to the car this afternoon to drop him off at Grandma's and he skipped right up to the driver's side door, pulled it open and tried to hop up into the front seat. I started to laugh and told him to get in his own seat, it was time to go to work...and then he asked me for the keys...clearly cleaning out his ears today didn't do a lot of good. "I wanna drive." He opened his hands for the keys. "Little boys have to sit in the back and Mama's have to drive. Please get in your seat and buckle up...it's time to go." Well! He got in his seat, I helped buckle him in and then I got an earful. Four year old boys are BIG boys, and BIG boys are allowed to drive cars, ride skateboards, play xBox and say "darn it". Guess he told me. Please consider me put in my place. Let's hope this is not going to be a daily occurrence...to be honest I think it might be fun to sit in the back seat and have snacks and watch movies and generally demand things left and right...if he asks again, I might just throw him the keys.

Birthday Dinner

"Hoctopus Dog" recipe stolen from Chris, (although she loved her kids enough to make the mac-n-cheese from scratch and Lucas had to suffer with the stuff from a box...forgive me....it had been a looooong day), but his theory is the oranger the better...so it was all good. To be honest, he wasn't thrilled with the hot dog...he acted a bit appalled that I would even set it upon his macaroni, so it had to be moved to his napkin. He insisted I replace it with a "regular" hot dog, so I cut it into a zillion little pieces when he wasn't looking and gave it back to him, and of course he gobbled it right up. Where is his sense of adventure, I ask you?

Just Like On Broadway...Only Cheesier!

We went to see Go, Diego, Go Live! on Wednesday. I had so much fun! I mean...Lucas had so much fun! We salsa'd and tango'd and merengue'd our way though both acts. And you know, with the exception of a creepy guy in a Click the Camera costume...it was a really good show. However, despite our excellent seats and my willingness to dance and snap and growl like a wee little jaguar, all Lucas can rememeber about the show is that he didn't get a Spongebob ice cream on a stick. Figures...

Serves Me Right For Asking

Me: "What are you doing upstairs, honey?"
Him: "Pickin' my nose."

Okay then.

Jack Frost Nipping At Our Nose...

I got home from work this morning at the lovely hour of 3:45am, toddler in arm, and what do you suppose I found when I opened the front door? My house was ice cold inside. At some point in the day the furnace gave out and I didn't realize something was wrong when it started to get cold in the afternoon...I just figured it was really cold outside so I turned up the heat. All day long my furnace was blowing out ice cold air and it couldn't shut off because it was less than 40 degrees in my house! So now, it's fully 4am and I'm WIDE AWAKE wondering what the heck is going on. I ran right down to the basement to have a look...(like I know squat about the inner workings of a furnace and as mine runs on gas, I'm not at all willing to tinker with it myself).
I had put Lucas back to sleep in my bed thinking we could share body heat...I know...that sounds so dramatic, but HELLO!? 40 degrees inside! I was afraid he would freeze to death in his own bed alone.

Then my wide awake self started to panic about frozen pipes and gas line leaks and so I didn't actually fall asleep until 6am...and then guess what? Up again for then day at 7:30am! My life is so glamorous, isn't it? Lucky for me he's a little heat engine as soon as he falls asleep so I curled myself right around him. I called the property manager first thing this morning and he came and fixed it in just minutes...but still! I obviously need to learn how to fix it myself in just minutes.

How I Spent My Thursday

Manicure, pedicure, haircut and highlights and a trip to the Banana Republic (where I got an $88 dollar wallet for the low low price of just $17 bucks). All without the kid. Can you ask for anything more? I'm not sure you can.
*****
We are all in love with our new baby cousin Adaline. You forget children can ever be that small. Just itty bitty. It feels wonderful to have another baby in the family. A girl to spoil! Boys are fun to spoil too, but you can really take spoiling to a whole new level in the baby girl's department the Baby Gap...you know?
*****
Lucas made me scrambled eggs for breakfast and roast chicken, mashed potatoes and cornbread for lunch. I have raised that boy right, let me tell you. He actually started to get worked up today when I tried to change the channel from the Food Network to something else...because he was "watchin' that!" The downside to letting him "help" in the kitchen is that discoveries are being made left and right. Apparently I haven't made a roast chicken since he appointed himself the cook of the house, and we had a somewhat awkward conversation about this chicken having legs...and also where his head might be...soooo...while he did help me finish prepping it and cooking it, he was not at all willing to eat it when it was done. Luckily we don't usually eat much meat.

Hope you all had a great week!