Saturday Snapshots (1/29)

I’m not sure if the bottle she insisted on having today cancels out the big girlness of sitting at the table to eat in a booster seat for the first time or not.

I hate snow days.

I hate the ones where all the snow is cleared up by like 9, there was no ice on the roads, and school doesn’t even open late – just stays closed all day. What. The. Hell. I never got this many freaking snow days off when I was the boys’ age. Top it all off – every child in my house is being a brat. Yes, you heard me right, a brat. I have no hesitation in calling my children brats or any other names that applies when they act like one. Yes, I always love them, no, I don’t always particularly enjoy them. Being stuck inside, not from snow and cold but because of vast amounts of mud, on a school day that isn’t a school day with them, and having to lay down John’s law of “You will not leave your room except to eat and go to the bathroom until your room is clean” epically blows. As a result I have a huge mother of all evil headache, an extra cranky toddler (thanks boys for not letting her sleep), and two whiney bratty boys who are fighting in their room. And nope – I’m not going to go in there and break it up either.

Stupid snow days.

A battle of wills that I know I can’t win.

I command you to ignore any cuteness.

Now, did you hear those “Nnnnnno!”s?  Oh. Em. Gee. I hear that ALL day about everything. Every blessed little thing. And if you argue with her no, she starts screaming, and hitting, and head butting, and slapping.

The Pudding Pie spend a lot of time in time out at the moment.

The blog post entitled “I am awesome.”

A little over a year ago I picked up knitting, and then a few months ago I picked up crocheting. (around November) John thought both were highly amusing, making me seem little-old-ladyish, and he gave me a month, on both, before saying I’d quit.

Ha! In case you didn’t know, I love to prove John wrong about stuff. lol Nothing he could have said would’ve pushed me to keep at it more than that. Even when I’d be frustrated and cussing vehemently inside my head and swearing to snap all my hooks and needles in half, I’d never admit it to him. He’d look over at me, smirk, and ask “Having problems baby?” To which I just smile, and say “Nope, all good.” So I can’t wait for him to come home tonight. “Why?” you ask.

Because I freaking designed that hat.

Yeah, you heard read that right, me. Me, me, me. And I did it by myself. I didn’t go to any of the knitting/crocheting support boards and ask how should I do this, this, or this. I sat down and spent 4 days working on that, starting over several, several times. Making a ton of mistakes before getting it right. Me.

Now, I will admit, the heart is from a pattern (and was much easier to make than I thought it would be… here’s the pattern if you want to try), but the hat, that’s all me. And I’m so proud of myself that if it wasn’t raining and I wasn’t afraid of heights I’d climb on to my roof and wave the hat around and yell about it.

Also, don’t get me wrong or anything. John fully supports me in my hobbies and encourages me to use any creative outlet that I can (and that he can afford). He just really thinks this is a funny hobby to have. This coming from the guy who plays golf and the freaking cello… for fun. (Plus any other musical instrument he gets it into his head to learn)

Oh…. and I need to admit one more thing about the hat. I messed up. lol Yup. Not like a big mess up, I know how to fix it and everything. But I was planning for this hat to fit a 19-20 inch head and it is really snug and just a touch short on Belly and her head is 18.5 inches. But oh well, John doesn’t have to know that. lol Cause, like I said it’s an easy fix.

Me too Travis, me too…

Saturday Snapshots (1/22)

(I’m working on some of my own photo editing actions lol)

Penises and Fecal Matter

Yeah, you read that right. The title of this blog post really, and truly, is “Penises and Fecal Matter.” And if you say you didn’t laugh or have to re-read it after you read it you’re a liar-liar-pants-on-fire.

I’ve seriously been thinking how I would do this post for a while. I mean really, how do you address the subject of penises and fecal matter?!
lol

I am definitely a mom of boys.

Since about October Ryan’s new favorite word has been penis. He likes to say it in this silly quiet high pitched voice and then giggles for about 5 minutes after saying it. When he starts it’s impossible to get him to stop, and he bursts out with it at the most random times. See, in October I signed a consent form for him to go to a program at school about inappropriate touching. There’s one for K-4, one for kindergarten, and one for fifth graders. They’re all different and go over the subject matter in age appropriate ways. Zach went to it in K-4 and kindergarten and he NEVER had this reaction. One of the things they go over in the K-4 program is that it’s important to call your privates by their right names in case you need to go to a teacher or some adult other than your parent and tell them someone has touched you in an inappropriate place because not all adults know the nicknames (for lack of a better word) other adults teach their children for the names of privates. Such as we always called penises “units.” Since learning the word penis Ryan has become obsessed with saying it. lol

Now… fecal matter, which as you should know, means ((whispering)) poop. This is Zach’s words. My seventeen year old brother taught him about fecal matter. Why? Because he’s a seventeen year old boy and he thought it would be a funny thing to teach a six-year old to say. This is probably something I shouldn’t admit to, but one of our favorite games is to see who can come up with the most ridiculous thing to call the other. (Yes, basically it’s name calling and insulting – but get over it, they’re my kids and we do it as a joke, something to make us laugh. My mom did it with us also and none of us turned out as jerks or bullies) Zach thinks the funnies thing to call anyone is something with fecal matter, for example “fecal matter head,” “fecal matter hair,” “fecal matter eater,” “you lick fecal matter;” I’m sure you get the point. He also likes to go up to people and ask/say “Do you know what fecal matter is? I do. It’s poop.”  

So yes, this is my post about penises and fecal matter. I do so hope you enjoyed it.