Funny - Love 'em!

Peanut: But, mom! We can't go to sleep; we're too hyperd.

Meatball (in the middle of the soccer game, running to us and away from the ball): Mom, look! A puffball!

Mommy 2 - To - Two - Too

I am Mommy to Meatball and Peanut, and they are amazing. AMAZING. I adore them. How can you not? (Unless Peanut is screaming in your face. Ug, lately....)

Anyway

A long time ago (four years), I made up a song and I would sing it almost every night. In it, I sang about how my life was complete with the boys and "mommy, too."
Well, Bub didn't like that much. She said it sounded like I was saying mommy TWO, and she didn't want the boys to think that she was a less important mom. "Oh, you're being silly," I would tell her.

One night, about a year ago, we were all sitting around the dinner table, and we were counting.
Me: How many dogs to we have?
Boys: One, two!
Me: How many eyes do you have?
Boys: One, two!
Me: How many boys are there in this room?
Boys: One, two!
Me: How many mommies do you have?
Boys: One (pointing at Bub), two (pointing at me)!

Ever since then, I have been Mommy Two.
Bub was right. It sucks.

What is WRONG with people?

The boys and I were on the way home from the park the other day. They were on their bikes, and we were headed up a gradual incline which means that I was pushing, and they were whining. It was about 11am (that's important).

Well, after a block and a half of this, all of a sudden a little girl ran into the road. Like - little - as in, 18 months! She was just making words like "pink" and "mommy" and "there" - all in baby babble, of course. Luckily, it was a very infrequently traveled street.

Me: Ooooooh! No, no, no, nooooo - sweetie! Go to your house!
Baby: Hi!
Me: Honey - where is your mommy?
Baby: oer deh (over there, pointing to brown house)
Me: Go get your mommy!
Baby: aaahhh, eeehhh, basset (something, something, basket - she was carrying a purple easter basket, complete with eggs and plastic grass and half eaten chocolate sucker - in August)

Well, I couldn't just let her stand in the middle of the road, and she wasn't moving. So, I grabbed the boys off of their bikes, and we snatched her up from them middle of the road, and took her to the brown house where I knocked on the door - hard. (While I waited, I took in the baby and the surroundings: dirt - no grass, bricks laying everywhere, no rail on the porch, no fence around the dirt, tampon applicators on the ground as if the dog had ripped apart a garbage bag - eeewww, baby with an obviously sagging diaper that hadn't been changed in hours, at least six inches of of dirt on the bottom of the baby's PJ bottoms, bare feet covered with dirt and dust, pathetic.)

Knocking.
Nothing.
I knocked again, and again, and again.
Nothing. Nothing. Nothing.
I walked around to the back yard and yelled in hopes of finding someone who had just lost track of a little person.
Nothing.

So, really, it seemed like she had come out of the white house next door, and lo and behold here wanders two other kids (4 and 18 months) from out of the white house, also without parental supervision. So, I dragged the first little girl and the two new little girls over to the white house and pounded on that door. It was answered.
Me: Does this one belong to you?
Young Mom: No, she lives next door.
Me: Do you know where her parents are?
Young Mom: No. Her mom usually works during the day and her grandma takes care of her.

Oh, great. So now I'm thinking that granny has fallen and can't get up, or she's had a stroke, or whatever.
So, young mom decides to go into the back yard and knock on the back door.
Nothing.
Young Mom: Well, you can just leave her with me. I'm sure that they will come looking for her when they get back.
Me: (thinking to myself - I don't frickin' know you! I'm not leaving a baby with someone I don't know! Judas - I wouldn't leave a baby with most of the people that I DO know!)
At this point, Young Mom is tired of the whole thing and goes back to her house. Gee thanks for the help.

I went back to the front door and banged and banged again.
Nothing.
I opened the door wide enough to get my face in, and I hollered into the pig stye at the top of my lungs - several times.
Nothing.
I didn't dare go in because there was a dog guarding the door. He was probably very friendly, but I'm not stupid.

When Young Mom came out and offered to take care of the baby again, I broke the news to her: I had already called the police.
Yes - they were on their way. Yes - they were alarmed. Yes - they seemed to take forever (but they were probably only three minutes).
The Young Mom came back and finally volunteered to go IN to the house. After all, she knew the dog and the people.
She came back out and said that she found someone that looked like she was sleeping. Or at least she was breathing. But Young Mom didn't know who it was. Granny? Mommy? Babysitter?
It didn't really matter, because Officer Thurgood finally arrived.

After giving him the low-down, he really pounded on the door. Serious pounding. I'm actually not sure that I could have physically pounded that hard. Well, someone finally came to the door. The mom. About age 26.

Officer Thurgood: Is this your daughter?
Irresponsible Mom: Oh, Ro! What are you doing outside (feigning concern). I'm so sorry! I was asleep!
[Remember when I said that 11am was important? Are you friggin kidding me?]
Me (totally out of line): I'VE BEEN KNOCKING ON YOUR DOOR AND YELLING INTO YOUR HOUSE FOR 20 MINUTES! (yes - I was yelling at her - in ALL CAPS)
Irresponsible Mom: Oh, I was asleep! I was asleep!
Me (to myself): It's called a HANGOVER, bitch!
Officer Thurgood: Are there any other kids in the house.
Irresponsible Mom: No, just her.
Officer Thurgood: Has she tried to get out of the house before?
Irresponsible Mom: Yeah. She can open the doors by herself, even if we have a kid lock.
Me (to myself): It's called a chain you idiot!
Me (outloud to cop): Can I go now? I don't really need to hear this crap, do I?
Officer Thurgood: Yes (with a look on his face that said PLEASE GO NOW and stop yelling at this stupid woman)

We put on our bike helmets and headed home. I don't know what happened in the end, but my friend at work (who knows something about these things) says that - by law - a report MUST be filed with DCFS.
I've now driven past that house about 20 times just to make sure that the baby is not in the middle of the road.

Stupid bitch.

Camping, August 2011

I had taken a week off for a long camping trip, but everything was all turned around due to Granny and Grandpa both having surgeries within a week of each other. So, the camping trip turned into “I’m taking a week off, anyway. Let’s just do some fun stuff.” And we did. We decided to go camping, but it was pretty spur of the moment and much shorter than a week. Getting everything together without much planning is not something that we do well, and we found ourselves getting really impatient with each other and with the kids. We really need to PLAN.

Anyway, we asked if we could use dad’s camper because Peanut had a cold, and we didn’t want it to get worse. That thing is quite the rattle-trap, but it did keep us warmer than if we had been in the tent! It was the boys’ favorite part of the whole trip. In, out, in, out, in, out, climb up to the bed, climb down, up, down, up, down, open the door, close, open, close…..

We went to our favorite spot in Fairview canyon, and since we arrived on a Sunday afternoon, most people were packing up and leaving. It was nice and quiet. We stayed until Tuesday. We got there so late on Sunday that we didn’t really have time to do much but start a fire and make some dinner, but on Monday morning, we were up very early to go fishing. On the way to the ponds, Bub had “Mimi, the finger” out talking to the boys. Mimi asked about fishing, and Meatball explained it like this: “You just rod it out, hook the fish, and swishy it back in.”

We were the only people at Potter’s upper pond for almost the entire morning. I didn’t think that it could happen, but fishing with 4-year olds is harder than fishing with 3-year olds! Cast out, reel in, out, in, out, in. We could have been casting into an aquarium filled with starving trout and wouldn’t have caught anything! Those poor fish didn’t have time to even see the bait, let alone eat it! But, whatever. The boys had fun. In his own words, Peanut was determined to “rail [reel] it out there, and then rail it back in when I catch the fish.”

After we tired of this, the boys and I hiked around the pond so that Bub could actually fish. It was at this time that she caught three. Coincidence? I think not. We walked and talked and talked and talked. Meatball’s poor stuffed dog, Baby, was a dirt covered mess at this point. The live dogs had a great time, especially Sadie. We came to the pond overflow drainage (we called it a ramp) and ran up and down it about 50 times. I think that was their favorite part of the “hike.”

After we finished our trip around the pond, we all moved to the lower pond. This turned out to be a very bad mistake because it smelled like pig poop. Literally. Sadie waded/swam through the worst part of it, and later REALLY stunk up the car. It was awful. Jake said later that there is something wrong with the lower pond because, well, it reeks and fish are dying. But, only in the lower pond. Doesn’t make any sense. When we got back to our campsite, I actually had to take Sadie to the stream and give her a bath; it was that smelly - like pig poop!

No matter what we were doing, the boys wanted to go back to the campsite. I think it’s because that’s where the “mountain house” (dad’s camper) was. There was also some really great dirt to play in.

When we did get back to the campsite, Bub went to the stream to clean the fish. She saw some other fish in a deep part of the stream. We decided to go down there later so that the boys could throw some rocks in the water. Bub decided to toss her line in a few times. It was here that she caught the biggest fish of the entire trip. Easily a 15” brook trout. Nice. Grandpa will be enjoying it very soon. Peanut was all about throwing the rocks, but Meatball was more interested in the current; he kept throwing grass and flowers in so that he could watch where they would go. They are so different….

When we returned to the campsite again, we picked lots of wildflowers and set them in a coffee cup on a stump by the fire. They really added to the ambiance (ha-ha). Later, Peanut was playing in the dirt, and Meatball was trying to see if he could re-plant some of the flowers and get them to grow. He would make a mound of dirt, stick a flower in, and water it. Cute.

Uncle J, Aunt J, and cousin Bill came up to roast hot dogs, and the boys loved playing with their cousin. She tolerated them, but she’s 11 and ready for grown-up conversations (or so she thinks – I think that she needs a new dolly and some sparkles for her hair – she’s growing up too fast!)

Not only did Peanut feel pretty crummy and grumpy during this trip due to his cold, but Liz was also not top form. I forget that she is getting old (11?). It really bums me out. So, we tried to let her take it easy. I think that she was rather pissed about it since “taking it easy” means that she had to stay in the camper for a few minutes at a time. (Really, she didn’t miss anything except some trips to the outhouse, but she thought that we were off on an adventure without her…)

Something that was pretty cool, though, was the fact that Sadie started gathering firewood with us. Spontaneously. All on her own. Really! We were picking up kindling, and she just started picking up little sticks and following us back to the campsite. She’s NOT an idiot! Hurray!

The next day, we got up and went fishing with Uncle J. The first thing Bub did that morning was ask Peanut if he felt OK. He said yes, of course. “No, really. Are you feeling sick?” she asked. Peanut’s response? “Mom. Does it seem like I’m barfing? No! I don’t think so.”

So, that was that. We went fishing on Uncle J’s boat. THAT was fun! Three grown-ups, one pre-teen, two pre-schoolers, and two dogs – and EVERYONE was well behaved! Of course, the boys were sick of fishing after about 10 minutes, and Peanut bossed everyone around by telling them that HE was the captain, but whaddya’ gonna’ do? Bub caught a decent fish and released it. Uncle J caught a sucker, and we all made fun of him (snicker…). Then, someone of a very young age had to potty, so we had to go back to shore. It was about this time that the boat started behaving poorly. We decided to call it a day. We said goodbye to the REAL captain and his first mate, and headed on our way home. The boys were crashed within 30 minutes.

Mr. Sensitive

Bub took the boys for a walk today. We frequently cut through the cemetary because 1) it's there and 2) it's in the way of every place we want to go. So, they cut through. (Disclaimer: out of respect and privacy, we do try to avoid it if something is happening.)

Well, today they were cutting through before they realized that a funeral was going to take place shortly with military honors. So,as they were walking, Bub was explaining what was happening. She was getting a bit teared up because she's just sweet like that.

The hearse arrived, and the pall bearers removed an urn. Then, the family got out of their car, dressed in black and crying, of course. The military folks weren't quite ready yet, so everyone was just standing there, and this was right when she and the boys were passing the group.

Mr. Meatball very calmly and solemnly walked up to one of the women who was crying and said "I'm sorry that you're having a bad day."

And, he was full-on sincere about it. He was really moved, and he meant it.

Then, the three of them went and sat down in the gazebo, far enough away that they wouldn't distract but close enough that they could see what was happening. Bub explained the whole thing on a 4-year old level, even the 21 gun salute.

But, we've been having FUN!

Here's a mish-mash of stuff we've been up to in the past couple of weeks:

Stockton Days:
It's the highlight of the year for the little city of Stockton. Really, though? It's probably not big enough to be called a city. Village? Hamlet? Whatever. They put on a big day in the park. Dutch oven cook-off, demonstrations by the fire department, food from the local cafe, talent (or not) show, inflatable sumo-wrestling outfits, games, and bounce houses. There might just be more bounce houses than there are kids in the entire hamlet! This year, one of them had a water slide. We played in it for two hours.

Non-stop, this one. He couldn't get to the top of the slide fast enough!

He was going down the side of the slide so that he wouldn't land in the big 2' pool of water at the bottom. Why? I dunno. He was already soaking wet, and he had to go through the pool to get out....

In the summer, the main floor of our house is sweltering. (No, we still don't have central air.) So, we hide out in the basement in the evenings and watch movies. These pictures suck, but what do you expect from a phone camera in a dark basement?

One afternoon at the beginning of the month, we were killing time in Salt Lake and decided to paddle around the pond in Liberty Park. It took almost a year, but it's been cleaned up nicely since the oil leak; it didn't even stink much. There were plenty of ducks and geese paddling around with us.


No, Meatball isn't as scared as he appears here. He's having fun - you just can't tell.

See? I told you he was having fun.

And, no - mommies weren't required to wear vests because the water at its deepest point would only ever come up to our armpits.


Can I just say how much fun I've been having since finishing up my MBA?
SO MUCH STINKING FUN!!!!!!!

Impressive

The Peanut had to potty. A #2. So, he did, and all went as should be expected. He did the wiping, the flushing, the hand washing, everything according to textbook (if someone was strange enough to write a textbook about such things).
Upon leaving the bathroom, Bubba said to him "You did a good job, buddy!"
to which he responded "Yeah, I'm fairly impressed!"

Is it possible?

Really, is it possible to NOT like "The Blind Slide"? Seriously, I think not.

This is bliss...

Let me construct my current scene for you:

Wife: sleeping to the right - worn out after a day of successful surgery for her mom
Peanut: snuggled, exhausted and next to her from a no-nap day at the zoo
Sade: fidgity 1yr old pup trying to get comfy on the basement bed, crazy from being alone for 2 days
Meatball: sleeping skeewampus and wiped despite the cat-nap in the car after the zoo
Liz: the best dog ever - not walking on the pre-schoolers but still close enough for a scratch

My life is truly wonderful.