So, last night, I was giving Little Buddy a bath. He was having a grand ol' time "juggling" and playing "hoops" in the tub. At one point, he starts saying something to me. I couldn't quite understand what he was saying, though, because he was talking quietly. I asked him to repeat what he was saying. It sounded like he was saying "poo-poo", but I didn't know what he meant by that, because surely he didn't actually mean "poo-poo". So, I tried to search my brain for other words he says that sound similar to "poo-poo". I couldn't think of anything that sounded similar and would fit the situation. So, as I was asking him to repeat himself, I saw little bubbles coming up from the water. Then, I realized that he was probably trying to tell me "toot-toot" because he sometimes toots in the bathtub and it makes bubbles...and of course, he and his daddy laugh about it. So, I asked him, "are you tooting?", to which he replied, "POOP". Then, I saw it...a little floater that proved to me that the boy knew what he was talking about the whole time. Seriously. Oh my gosh. Yep, that's right people. My precious little boy pooped in the tub last night. As you can imagine, his bath ended rather abruptly and much sooner than he would have hoped. Here's a video of Little Buddy trying to "juggle" like his daddy, while taking his bath.
So, if your kid tells you when they are about to poop and they are actually correct, does that mean it is time to start thinking of potty training them? I'm terrified of potty training. But, I'm wondering if this "incident" should serve as an indication that Little Buddy is more prepared for the process than I am. Ay yay yay!
February 17, 2009
February 14, 2009
Things I Love
Since today is the "day to celebrate love", I thought I'd share some of the things I love most:
1)My husband. There aren't enough words to do him justice. But, for elaboration, you can check out this previous post of mine.
2)Watching my son sleep and listening to his breath as he does.
3)Hearing and/or making my son laugh. It is one of the sounds I LOVE most in this world.
4)My best friend. We've been friends since high school and despite being states apart, we are still the closest of friends. I miss just running errands together. But, I LOVE the fact that we appreciate those little things when we are together.
5)Ben and Jerry's Chocolate Fudge Brownie Frozen Yogurt.
6)Conversations over coffee. You know...those conversations that go way longer than you expect, yet you never even think to check the time.
7)Laughing with friends or family over past memories. I guess this is called reminiscing.
8)Traveling.
9)My Wednesday routine. Right now, it starts out with this:
10)Days when I believe that I look nice.
11)Sees Candies. Scotchmallows, Caramels (w/the almond in them), Butterchews, Vanilla Nut Caramels. I could go on and on.
12)A really hot shower, bath or jacuzzi.
13)Knowing I can trust my husband with my life.
14)Knowing my son can trust me with his.
February 9, 2009
5 More Random Nuggets
1)When I was in 6th grade, my friend's mom told me that ham had worms in it. She tried to explain that the worms get boiled out when it is cooked. But, that didn't help ease my mind, much. Up until that point, ham had been my favorite lunch meat. Since that time, I think I may have eaten ham once.
2)I have an inverted coccyx.
3)I had perfect attendance numerous times in elementary school. I was really mad when I got the chicken pox and had to miss school (therefore, no perfect attendance that year). What made it worse was the fact that I got the chicken pox from my brother, who got them from a girl in his class. Said girl's mother thought she just had pimples covering her entire body and sent her to school to then infect my brother.
4)I used to be very insecure around guys. Now, I'm more insecure around other women.
5)I enjoy cottage cheese and applesauce mixed together.
2)I have an inverted coccyx.
3)I had perfect attendance numerous times in elementary school. I was really mad when I got the chicken pox and had to miss school (therefore, no perfect attendance that year). What made it worse was the fact that I got the chicken pox from my brother, who got them from a girl in his class. Said girl's mother thought she just had pimples covering her entire body and sent her to school to then infect my brother.
4)I used to be very insecure around guys. Now, I'm more insecure around other women.
5)I enjoy cottage cheese and applesauce mixed together.
February 6, 2009
More Randomness
Wow! I didn't realize how much interest the story of "Mrs. Mean" would generate. Before I move on to three other random facts about myself, I'll try to answer the burning questions. Mrs. Mean did not get fired, but did get demoted. So, fortunately, I didn't have her for 8th grade. Sadly for them, a class of 4th graders had to endure her wrath. Sorry to those of you who were hoping she would have gotten fired. It would have made for a more dynamic story, perhaps. However, I have since learned that she was likely going through an abusive marital situation. So, I do feel some compassion towards her, now. But, no, that does not excuse her behavior.
On to the 3 random facts:
1) I am a toilet paper snob. I've just recently discovered this. I'm serious, though. I've always purchased Charmin toilet paper, but in an effort to be more financially conscious, I recently purchased the Kirkland brand toilet paper at Costco. I have never really had problems with generic brands. In fact, I often think the name brands are just silly to waste money on. But, when toilet paper falls apart when you use it, it is just crap. Needless to say, I can't wait until this seemingly-never-ending bulk package of Kirkland toilet paper is gone so I can buy my Charmin again. And, you know I must really dislike the toilet paper to not care that Little Buddy toilet-papered the house with a roll of it, yesterday. In fact, I was kinda happy to let him waste half a roll. That's just 1/2 a roll less that I have to use before I can get that Charmin!
Just starting his toilet-papering adventure
He toilet-papered the door jam
And his baseball machine and rocket
He enjoyed "decorating" the hallway, too
2)My biggest fears in life are failure and rejection.
3)I have a pair of P.E. shorts that I've had since junior high. My husband hates them. I used to wear them to the gym or to bed at night. But, typically, I wear them for painting or yard work. He hates them even for such mundane chores. I think he secretly wants to burn them. But, they are comfortable and long enough that I'll actually wear them.
These are the shorts...and, see, I'm painting in them!
February 4, 2009
"The Story"
Okay, so some of you have asked me to explain the story behind #1 of my last post. So, here ya go:
When I was in 7th grade, I had a teacher who was likely having some personal problems. Now, I feel a little bit badly that I had been so angry towards her, yet I still do not believe she behaved appropriately, AT ALL! This particular teacher was a terrible teacher. She was mean, hurtful, and just angry at life. She gave more homework than any one teacher could expect a student to get done in the "specified time limit for homework" each night. But, mostly, she was just mean. She picked on students, often. I was "fortunate" enough to be one of those lucky students. She say demeaning things and even make fun of our parents. It was absolutely ridiculous. She singled me (and a few others) out for some reason. Other students' parents even called my parents to ask if I was okay because they heard from their kids how this teacher had treated me that day.
I was a perfectionist. I did all the ridiculous amounts of homework. I was rather convinced, too, that she didn't even check our homework, but rather, just gave us whatever grade she wanted to assign to each of us. On one particular assignment, in our attempts to test out this theory, my parents told me to write really absurd answers to some of the homework questions. So, for one answer, I wrote "The Civil War started because Mary had a little lamb that had white fleece." My theory was proven to be true because I got extra credit on that assignment.
I worked hard and studied even harder. It didn't matter, though, because I was simply one of those kids she had chosen to target. I was a good student. So, she couldn't "get me" on my grades. My parents determined that this teacher (we'll call her "Mrs. Mean") seemed to be picking on kids who had a good family situation (parents still married/stable home life). Mrs. Mean's family dynamics did not fit that same profile. Whether or not that was the case, the facts were the facts. Mrs. Mean was so mean that most days I would cry when I got home.
My parents started keeping a log of all the things that Mrs. Mean had said and done each day...based on things I would explain to them and things other students and other students' parents would share with them. There were discussions with the principal and supposed "warnings" to the teacher. Then, when nothing seemed to make a difference in how Mrs. Mean treated me and the others, I (the perfectionist who would never have skipped class) refused to continue going to Mrs. Mean's class. I threatened to just hang out in the locker area during her class and take whatever punishment resulted. I just didn't care. Instead, I ended up spending that time in the principal/vice-principal's office working on my assignments, free from Mrs. Mean's snares. When I did return to her class, nothing had changed. I told my parents that I was going to take a tape recorder to class and have it in my backpack to record her, so they could hear her antics on tape. They advised me that it might be illegal to do that. But, again, I didn't care.
The last straw was the day of our school track meet. I was out on the track with all my friends and I see my principal and Mrs. Mean come walking across the school yard. I just knew they were coming for me. I was glad that something was happening about the situation, but I was so stinkin' mad because I had to miss the festivities of the track meet and carnival to go have a meeting with the principal, vice principal, my parents, my grandparents, some board members and Mrs. Mean. Issues were discussed and I didn't hold back. I had been so sick of being polite and "respectful" to my teacher all the while being treated like dirt. In the midst of the "discussion", with a great deal of passion and emphasis I explained that it made me very angry when Mrs. Mean would make fun of our parents and belittle them in class. At this point, I guess I felt it was appropriate to demonstrate for Mrs. Mean (and all the others in attendance at this grand meeting) just exactly how angry it made me. So, I said, "When you say that kind of stuff, I just want to PUNCH you!" I even made the punching motion. I punched the palm of my left hand with the fist of my right hand as the words "PUNCH YOU!" came out of my mouth. And, I didn't regret it for a second. My dad nodded and my grandma winked at me. I think my "supporters" were perfectly fine with my little demonstration...maybe even proud of it.
So, that's the story. Are you surprised?
When I was in 7th grade, I had a teacher who was likely having some personal problems. Now, I feel a little bit badly that I had been so angry towards her, yet I still do not believe she behaved appropriately, AT ALL! This particular teacher was a terrible teacher. She was mean, hurtful, and just angry at life. She gave more homework than any one teacher could expect a student to get done in the "specified time limit for homework" each night. But, mostly, she was just mean. She picked on students, often. I was "fortunate" enough to be one of those lucky students. She say demeaning things and even make fun of our parents. It was absolutely ridiculous. She singled me (and a few others) out for some reason. Other students' parents even called my parents to ask if I was okay because they heard from their kids how this teacher had treated me that day.
I was a perfectionist. I did all the ridiculous amounts of homework. I was rather convinced, too, that she didn't even check our homework, but rather, just gave us whatever grade she wanted to assign to each of us. On one particular assignment, in our attempts to test out this theory, my parents told me to write really absurd answers to some of the homework questions. So, for one answer, I wrote "The Civil War started because Mary had a little lamb that had white fleece." My theory was proven to be true because I got extra credit on that assignment.
I worked hard and studied even harder. It didn't matter, though, because I was simply one of those kids she had chosen to target. I was a good student. So, she couldn't "get me" on my grades. My parents determined that this teacher (we'll call her "Mrs. Mean") seemed to be picking on kids who had a good family situation (parents still married/stable home life). Mrs. Mean's family dynamics did not fit that same profile. Whether or not that was the case, the facts were the facts. Mrs. Mean was so mean that most days I would cry when I got home.
My parents started keeping a log of all the things that Mrs. Mean had said and done each day...based on things I would explain to them and things other students and other students' parents would share with them. There were discussions with the principal and supposed "warnings" to the teacher. Then, when nothing seemed to make a difference in how Mrs. Mean treated me and the others, I (the perfectionist who would never have skipped class) refused to continue going to Mrs. Mean's class. I threatened to just hang out in the locker area during her class and take whatever punishment resulted. I just didn't care. Instead, I ended up spending that time in the principal/vice-principal's office working on my assignments, free from Mrs. Mean's snares. When I did return to her class, nothing had changed. I told my parents that I was going to take a tape recorder to class and have it in my backpack to record her, so they could hear her antics on tape. They advised me that it might be illegal to do that. But, again, I didn't care.
The last straw was the day of our school track meet. I was out on the track with all my friends and I see my principal and Mrs. Mean come walking across the school yard. I just knew they were coming for me. I was glad that something was happening about the situation, but I was so stinkin' mad because I had to miss the festivities of the track meet and carnival to go have a meeting with the principal, vice principal, my parents, my grandparents, some board members and Mrs. Mean. Issues were discussed and I didn't hold back. I had been so sick of being polite and "respectful" to my teacher all the while being treated like dirt. In the midst of the "discussion", with a great deal of passion and emphasis I explained that it made me very angry when Mrs. Mean would make fun of our parents and belittle them in class. At this point, I guess I felt it was appropriate to demonstrate for Mrs. Mean (and all the others in attendance at this grand meeting) just exactly how angry it made me. So, I said, "When you say that kind of stuff, I just want to PUNCH you!" I even made the punching motion. I punched the palm of my left hand with the fist of my right hand as the words "PUNCH YOU!" came out of my mouth. And, I didn't regret it for a second. My dad nodded and my grandma winked at me. I think my "supporters" were perfectly fine with my little demonstration...maybe even proud of it.
So, that's the story. Are you surprised?
January 31, 2009
Random Things
I recently did a "25 Things about Me" list on facebook. It was kinda fun to try to come up with random things about myself. And, after I completed my list of 25, I thought of several others that I would have included had I thought of them at the time. So, since I'd feel kinda silly making up another "25 Things" list, I figured I'd just start a little series of random facts about me, here on my blog. Every day or two (or three), I'll post just a few random tidbits about me. I'd love to see who can relate to any of them.
Here are the first 3 little nuggets:
1)I once told a teacher that I wanted to punch her. I said that to her while sitting in the presence of my parents, grandmother, principal and vice principal. I also made a fist and punched the palm of my other hand, demonstrating just how serious I was about wanting to punch her.
2) I was the spelling bee champ three years in a row in elementary school. Thus, spelling errors and typos bug me....especially when they are in letters from "professionals" who should have spell-checked their letters before sending them out in the mail.
3)I ABSOLUTELY HATE CRUMBS! When I lived at home with my parents, my dad would make a sandwich and leave the bread crumbs on the counter. It drove me nuts. But, the absolute worst place to find crumbs is under my feet on the kitchen floor. Grr!!!
There ya go! Three random factoids about me. Feel free to share any similar stories or feelings. It is nice to know I'm not alone. :)
Here are the first 3 little nuggets:
1)I once told a teacher that I wanted to punch her. I said that to her while sitting in the presence of my parents, grandmother, principal and vice principal. I also made a fist and punched the palm of my other hand, demonstrating just how serious I was about wanting to punch her.
2) I was the spelling bee champ three years in a row in elementary school. Thus, spelling errors and typos bug me....especially when they are in letters from "professionals" who should have spell-checked their letters before sending them out in the mail.
3)I ABSOLUTELY HATE CRUMBS! When I lived at home with my parents, my dad would make a sandwich and leave the bread crumbs on the counter. It drove me nuts. But, the absolute worst place to find crumbs is under my feet on the kitchen floor. Grr!!!
There ya go! Three random factoids about me. Feel free to share any similar stories or feelings. It is nice to know I'm not alone. :)
January 27, 2009
Velveeta
Today, Little Buddy and I went to the grocery store. It was supposed to be a very quick stop, after our fun time at the park. We needed only two items: Velveeta cheese and a bag of potatoes. Wanna guess what's for dinner tomorrow night?
Anyways, we quickly head for the pasta aisle, because it seems like I remember finding Velveeta in that aisle previously. Well, I don't find it there. So, we head to the surrounding aisles, searching high and low. Still, we find no Velveeta. Okay. Fine. We opt to go get the potatoes and hopefully come across a grocery store clerk who can point us in the direction of some Velveeta. As I'm standing at the potato rounder, I see a store clerk. Of course, I ask him where one might find this most obscure cheese. He informs me that it is on aisle 12 and that it isn't refrigerated. Now, I don't buy Velveeta cheese very often, but I do recall that I've never found it in the refrigerated section. It comes in a box and is only refrigerated after being opened. So, his explanation seems reasonable. We grab our bag of potatoes and head back to aisle 12, where we've already been 3 times.
I still can not find the stinkin' Velveeta!
So, I ask another clerk who is wandering around the store. He confirms that it is not in the refrigerated section, but he doesn't think it is on aisle 12, either. He thinks it is on aisle 10. So, we look through aisle 10, 11, and 12. No luck. At this point, I am just ready to scrap it altogether and buy my potatoes and cheese elsewhere. About this time, the clerk tells me that he actually works in the Starbucks kiosk and he will ask someone who should know. I appreciate his willingness to help, but am less than thrilled to pull a third worker into the search for Velveeta. I tell Mr. Starbucks man that I am going to check the chip aisle to see if, by chance, the cheese is near the dips, as I realize some people melt the cheese for party dips. Again, no luck.
This is ridiculous. I've had enough. I can't find the Starbucks man and I don't have the time or energy to hunt him down. So, just as I'm heading to the produce section to put my potatoes back, I hear "Mam!" being shouted in my direction. I turn to find Mr. Starbucks coming my way. In one hand, he has a box of Velveeta and in the other, a block of the generic brand. He found the Velveeta! And guess where it was? In the refrigerated section. Seriously. Ay yay yay!
Sidenote: I didn't even end up buying any Velveeta because they didn't have the reduced fat Velveeta. I had informed him (during our initial jaunts through the aisles) that I was looking specifically for the reduced-fat version. So, he didn't expect me to buy the cold-because-it-was-in-the-refrigerated-section, non-reduced-fat "cheese loaf", anyway.
Anyways, we quickly head for the pasta aisle, because it seems like I remember finding Velveeta in that aisle previously. Well, I don't find it there. So, we head to the surrounding aisles, searching high and low. Still, we find no Velveeta. Okay. Fine. We opt to go get the potatoes and hopefully come across a grocery store clerk who can point us in the direction of some Velveeta. As I'm standing at the potato rounder, I see a store clerk. Of course, I ask him where one might find this most obscure cheese. He informs me that it is on aisle 12 and that it isn't refrigerated. Now, I don't buy Velveeta cheese very often, but I do recall that I've never found it in the refrigerated section. It comes in a box and is only refrigerated after being opened. So, his explanation seems reasonable. We grab our bag of potatoes and head back to aisle 12, where we've already been 3 times.
I still can not find the stinkin' Velveeta!
So, I ask another clerk who is wandering around the store. He confirms that it is not in the refrigerated section, but he doesn't think it is on aisle 12, either. He thinks it is on aisle 10. So, we look through aisle 10, 11, and 12. No luck. At this point, I am just ready to scrap it altogether and buy my potatoes and cheese elsewhere. About this time, the clerk tells me that he actually works in the Starbucks kiosk and he will ask someone who should know. I appreciate his willingness to help, but am less than thrilled to pull a third worker into the search for Velveeta. I tell Mr. Starbucks man that I am going to check the chip aisle to see if, by chance, the cheese is near the dips, as I realize some people melt the cheese for party dips. Again, no luck.
This is ridiculous. I've had enough. I can't find the Starbucks man and I don't have the time or energy to hunt him down. So, just as I'm heading to the produce section to put my potatoes back, I hear "Mam!" being shouted in my direction. I turn to find Mr. Starbucks coming my way. In one hand, he has a box of Velveeta and in the other, a block of the generic brand. He found the Velveeta! And guess where it was? In the refrigerated section. Seriously. Ay yay yay!
Sidenote: I didn't even end up buying any Velveeta because they didn't have the reduced fat Velveeta. I had informed him (during our initial jaunts through the aisles) that I was looking specifically for the reduced-fat version. So, he didn't expect me to buy the cold-because-it-was-in-the-refrigerated-section, non-reduced-fat "cheese loaf", anyway.
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