BTW

Thank you McDonald's in Texas for finally serving Sweet Tea. Is there anything else from Chick-fil-A you want to copy? Now would be the time...

No parkin' on the dance floor

TK wears glasses and has for about 1.5 years now. He's done really well for being his age and having to deal with glasses. His first pair were these cool little blue wire rectangles made of memory metal that you can bend and twist - perfect for a 4 year old. They survived until one fateful timeout where TK took the glasses and tried to break them in half in a fit of anger. Todd and were kind of standing back laughing at him and thinking "good luck" until we heard snaaaappp. That was the sound of one of the 3 "weak points" on the glasses snapping in half...NICE JOB KID!

Remarkably, Todd stayed calm and dragged Teeks to LensCrafters at 4:45 on a Sunday afternoon to see what could be done. The awesome guy there was all "Sir, I think these glasses are defective. Don't you think that sir? Seriously, I THINK THEY WERE DEFECTIVE AND I THINK WE SHOULD REPLACE THESE FRAMES FOR FREE, SIR." He replaced the frames, but told Todd "We can't do anything about those lenses." We had no idea what he was talking about until we discovered that there were teeth marks on the lenses. Yes, teeth marks. Evidently, (as discovered upon further investigation) TK got something on the lens and tried to scrape it off with his teeth - you know, as opposed to haaaaah-ing on the lens and wiping off the fog. Who uses their teeth????

So finally we went for a new exam last week and found out that the patching has not been working and instead Tiki will have to use the dilating drops in order to make his weak eye work harder and gain some strength. That means one eye will be dilated all the time - something I think will be fun for all of us, no really fun for all of us. It's so sad to see him try to shake his head to clear his vision when his eyes are dilated. It will be quite fun watching him try to do that in 6 week increments.

After the exam the doctor tells me that although TK's prescription has not changed much, he does indeed new glasses (and not just because of the teeth marks...) This time there are special effects called for!

Checkout went something like this.

Tortoiseshell Ralph Lauren frames for $119.95 - covered by insurance...check
Single vision lens for $120.00 - I pay $10...check
Featherweight lens for $65.00 - I pay $40...check
Transitions tinting for $125 - I pay $100...check
Invisible prism for $85 - I pay $45...check

If you are good at math you can see that my original total was $514.95. After my insurance kicked in my out of pocket total was $195.00.

While Sergio the Optician was swiping my card I leaned down to TK and said very quietly "If I find your teeth or your mouth on ANY part of these glasses I will tan your hide".

He looked up at me with the one big eye and said "Will you spank me until your hand becomes part of my body?"

After the initial shock I was like "Would that be scary to you?"

"Yes"

"Okay - then yes that's what I'll do"

I WAS MEANT FOR THIS JOB!

Don't Ask & Don't Tell, revised edition

A couple of years ago my parents got TK some GI Joe dolls. We thought they would be good toys for him (they were huge) and a good way to practice snaps, dressing and undressing - typical learning stuff. My mom even asked "Will Todd be okay with dolls that can be undressed". I was all "Todd is modern, he will be fine with that" and such. And for the most part, he was...until for the fourth week in a row he found the 2 GI Joe dolls completely naked save for their dog tags around their neck...

That day he renamed them "Don't Ask" and "Don't Tell" and informed us that if they didn't find their clothes quickly they would be dishonorably discharged...

Alas, they did not find their clothes and ended up in the dumpster...naked and alone. End of story. I still do give Todd a hard time about Don't Ask and Don't Tell and he now just grimaces and makes some mumbly comment about letting TK play wth naked dolls, etc.

So this morning Teeks comes in the office carrying Derek, Prince Derek that is from Barbie and the 12 Dancing Princesses - the boy doll he HAD to have because he had riding boots...naked.

"Mommy, I can't find Prince Derek's clothes"

"Hmmm, yeah, he's naked all right. We need to find some clothes for him pretty quick"

"Well, I can't. I don't know where they are. So can I keep him?"

"What?"

"Can I keep him? Naked?"

"Only until your father finds out..."


At least Derek's not naked with a friend and at least he's not wearing dog tags...

Oh, in-home daycare lady...

From where doth thee come?

I'm on a quest to discover which planet the little one's daycare provider came from...

It all started with TC was around 6 months and I picked him up and on his "paper" it said "I HAD BEEF TODAY." WHAT? Seriously? Beef? He's 6 months - what's the rush?

Then about a month ago I picked him up to find that she had given him meat sticks. When I said something one of the ladies said "Oh he loved the meat sticks you brought". The other said "Oh I bought those - Tracy didn't bring them". So I said "No more - no meat until at least a year - that's what we're doing". After the 1950's ladies gave me grief for being uptight about feeding they said okay and I followed that up with "No more food that we don't bring..."

Then today I got there and she dropped this one... "He had peanut butter toast today and he loved it." Ba-whu?

Did you say peanut butter?

And then she said "So you might want to watch for an allergic reaction tonight."

All I can say is *wow*.

And by wow I mean, how quickly can I find a new place...

It's a GIRL!

At least according to TK.

I dropped TK off at school this morning and his teacher Ms. Ashley spotted me. She gave me "the look". That's usually the "I need to talk to you" followed by "TK did such and such to so and so" look. So I'm always nervous.

So she came over with that weird smile on her face and got really close, spoke really softly and said

"Are you pregnant?"

I was like "NO!" "Are you?"

"Yes. But TK told me you were, too. He said that you were pregnant and that y'all already knew what you were having and it was a girl and everyone is so excited".


Where did he come from? For real...

I must admit that I'm not surprised since about 4 months ago he saw an episode of Aurthur where Binky's parents adopted a baby girl from China. I spent the next month assuring classmates mother's that we were NOT adopting a baby from China...

A mind like a steel trap, that one... and an imagination that can't be measured. I'm proud and all, but can it just stop involving me being pregnant or raising another baby? Seriously.

Are you this lazy?

Have you ever re-run the clean dishes in the dishwasher just to avoid having to unload the dishwasher? So that hopefully when it's finished your spouse will be home and finally take his turn unloading the dishwasher...

If you ain't no punk, holla we want prenup!

W...T...H...???????????

I have never joined in the "Oh Monday - I hate Monday's, etc" crowd. Monday is just another day of the week for me. Yes, perhaps a little more stressful and unorganized in the mornings because there's more to go in the car than the rest of the days of the week. But really - it's just Monday. Today you might find me humming a different tune...

Our day started at 7:00 am. Early, you say? On a Saturday, yes, but on a weekday when the alarm went off at 5:24 am...no sir.

Got up, got ready, got the kids ready and everyone left the house. On the way to preschool Tiki starts complaining that when he's taken in first it's not fair because TC gets to "spend more time with me". A valid complaint if you consider facing backwards with no ability to communicate "spending time together"...

Drop off went just fine. I get back in the car and head up the hill to TC's daycare. On the way down aforementioned hill, there is a motorcycle cop. He got me. Not only did he get me but after he pulled from the tricky spot, we caught a red light. So I had to sit there at the red light, both of us knowing that it was me. I did not like that prolonged agony! He was nice - and I keep saying that - like you wouldn't be nice if you were making your quota. He gave me some blah, blah, blah, fatalities on this road, blah, blah, blah, really cracking down, blah, blah, blah, tell your friends. So while he's doing the actual writing of the ticket I hear a wretching sound coming from the backseat. I leap out and the cop is like "What are you doing lady? Get back in your car! Ma'am get back in your vehicle". I opened the back door and there's TC smiling bright, covered with vomit. I know you have to be asking the same thing I am - WTH - why is your child always vomiting? Well, this time friends, I have an answer. Evidently the little cardboard boxes for Orbit gum are NOT good teething toys as someone else in my house thought and cardboard chunks fall into that ubiquitous "choker" category for babies zero to evelentyhundred months old. The cop felt no pity and gave me the ticket anyway, adding "You seem like you are in a hurry so I'll do my best to get you out of here quickly..." Ba wha?

I then realize that I'm not sure what possible changes of clothes my daycare provider might have for TC so I have to go BACK home and get another change of clothes for TC. Time on the clock 9:00 am - still in my town...

It is then that I realize I have a 9:00 am conference call. I don't have the number in front of me so there is not much I can do except wait until they call me. And when they did I just opened the phone and said "No speaka English" and hung up. It's not like I could have participated with all that going on.

I finally get to work about 9:45 am. The day is flying by until around 1:30 when I get a call that says "You don't happen to have my bank card do you?" Daaaannnng. Is this for real? Todd is at work with no lunch and no money. So I drive down to his work and buy us a sandwich.

I finally leave work around 5:15 pm - RACE to the daycare to avoid the late fees, get both kids, scream home with visions of 6:30 pm bath and bed for them and a drink for me...

But what actually happened was Tiki and friends in our sandbox until 7:30 pm. Bath for TK and PBJ around 8:00 pm and finally kids to bed.

And that whole time...

It was raining.

If I didn't know better, I'd think I was lying...

There is no way I can be 36. I still feel like I'm in my 20's. My mother-in-law told me that I would spend the next 30 years feeling like I was finally in my 30's. Is that good or bad????

I'm not sure how I feel about being on the downhill slide to 40...

Toot, toot

Happy Birthday to me!!!!!!!!!!!

A quick tip

It's a great idea to NOT just hit Next Blog>>, Next Blog>>, Next Blog>> because you might accidentally happen upon the Undercover Porn Star blog and burn your retinas. Hope this helps.

It was an accident

Behold the new phrase in my house.

"It was an accident..."

• Hit your baby brother with a super ball...it was an accident
• Flood the toilet...it was an accident
• Push a small stuffed boot from your Texas Advent calendar into a small bud vase...that too was an accident
• Wrap your mother's pajama top around your pirate sword and snap the elastic...doh, that was an accident, too
• "Accidentally" punch a kid in class...you got it...simply an accident

I'm trying to teach the difference between a true accident and something you did that was really, really not smart - but was 100% intentional and therefore not an accident.

In TK's world, if you get caught, that qualifies the incident as an accident. That's what we do here, teach 'em young...

I'll dole these out slowly...

*Removed for just being a bad job posting.*

What the...what did you eat?

Saturday morning was a VERY early morning for us. The little one has decided that 6:00 is just as good a time as any to wake up. We strongly disagree, but evidently he's not up for a discussion. So since I was up...and since I'm tubby I thought I might as well go for a run. I decided to take Gus, my loving, faithful, gray bearded lab mutt with me since I knew he would enjoy being out and seeing the neighborhood. Here's where I must pause for a personal explanation for anyone that has never had this conversation with me so pardon the digression...

When we FIRST got Gus it was the springish summer of 2001 - the year we were to get married. We "adopted" him from a rescue way out in the country and it was like an "overflow shelter". Shortly after we adopted him we went to Amsterdam for a wedding and and put him in a kennel. We got back on a Tuesday and I drove out to pick him up. He seemed happy to see me and chose to ride home in the front seat of my new Mercedes...About 1/2 way down this two lane country road I notice him staring at me and sort of glaring. The next thing I know he's POOPING in my front seat...seriously glaring at me and pooping my front seat. I swerved off the road, flung the passenger side door open, grabbed a towel from the front seat, swiped the poop out the door and flung the towel out with it. I was super grossed out. Fast forward to home. At the time we lived in a 3 story apt bldg and on the 3rd floor. We got home and about 30 minutes in I see Gus by the patio door and he's doing it again - POOPING! I grabbed a spatula from the kitchen, scooped the poop and tossed it over the balcony into the grass. He pretty much spent the rest of the day doing that around the apartment and I followed him around using kitchen utensils to pick up the poop and toss it over. About 3 hours later Todd came home and was like "Whoa - there's like a whole drawer full of kitchen stuff in the grass out there. That is so weird"... Hahaha. I never told, but he never figured out where all of our kitchen utensils went... End of digression. All this to say that I have NO tolerance for dog poop. In fact I have NEVER walked Gus in the going on 7 years we've had him alone where I would have to pick up poop...Back to Saturday.

So, Todd tells me to take a bag and as luck would have it later - I grabbed 4. We get about 1/8 of a mile and Gus stops to poop. I sprinkled some sand on it and picked it up with one bag and dumped it into the other. The bag gave off quite a bit of warmth and the more I thought about it and visualized it the more sick I got. Pretty soon I was gagging so hard that tears were rolling down my face and I could taste bile in the back of my throat. It took about 15 minutes to get everything back down and stabalized. We kept running and I feel the leash stop again and I look back and he's doing it again. Bleh! So I picked it up and lather, rinse, repeat the gagging and spitting up. I'm thinking - that has to be it because I only have one bag left. But now I'm carrying a double load in one plastic grocery bag and running. I round the corner, find a Cap'n Crunch box that fell off the trash truck and stuffed the double load in there and ran. I'M HOME FREE! I DID IT! I PICKED UP POOP AND SURVIVED...That joy was short lived. About 1/2 a block later he stops again and I tug and he tugs back. He's freakin' pooping AGAIN! There's panic - one bag left...So as much as I wanted to leave it I KNEW I couldn't. So I tried to be efficient like Todd would do and I ended up getting poop all over the bag opening which resulted in my having to fold the bag all weird and ending up with some sort of pouch with a long handle. After the gagging subsided I decided to "hurry" home and to my dismay as I ran that warm bag of joy was bumping against my leash hand or my thigh or my hip. I tell you what - that was a wonderful first public poop experience. Since then I vow only to bike...alone.

I've got a sharp stick...

And I can't stop poking myself in the eye with it.

I allowed a very keyed up 4.75 year old to go to 'Garden Bridge' with my today and then I okayed a suggestion to follow that up with dinner at a restaurant...good thinking on my part. So, why was I surprised when it got so bad that I had to leave over 1/2 my meal on the table and spend the rest of the time in the parking lot scolding, wiping tears, explaining the problem ad nauseum, scolding more and wiping more tears. Oh, I wasn't. What I am surprised about is that my limited math skills tell me I should weigh much less than I do if I end up skipping 1/2 of my dinner every night. Seriously.

I'm so thankful that 5 is just around the corner. I'm certain that will be a turning point or the point where I freecycle a gently used 5 year old.

TK learns to read...

So yesterday TK and I had a little mom and me time and part of that time was to go see Bee Movie (great, by the way). After the movie we had to use the restroom and although I'm sure he could do it by himself, I'm too paranoid to send him into a public restroom by himself, so into the ladies room with me he goes. We went to the far back handicap access stall and per our normal arrangement, he runs into the stall and says "gentlemen first" (we are still working on that etiquette). So, he finished using the restroom and it was my turn. This is the point where he would normally start messing with the door lock or examining the flush mechanism so this next thing wasn't totally unexpected... He goes to the feminine box and start pushing in the little door tell him to leave that alone because it's yucky. He asks what it is and I tell him it's a special place for lady bathroom things that can't go in the toilet and be flushed, etc. He didn't understand so I said - like a baby diaper - they can't be flushed, right? He gets that so we are all set. Let's just finish and get out of here...

The next thing I hear is "tuh-am-puh-aw-enn... ta-m-paw-n... tam-p-on... tampon... tampon... tampon... is that right, is that what that says?" I said "Yes, shhhhhh" and he was like "What is a tampon, what is that, what is a tampon?" By now I'm starting to laugh and still shusshing him and trying to get out of the stall and redirect. He's still saying that same thing over and over again except now we are walking toward the sinks and he's being very dramatic, playing up to my laughter, using his very theatrical gestures "What is a tampon, why won't you tell me what a tampon is?" So the folks waiting in line for a stall are howling with laughter. Nice.

We get to the sinks and I say "Shhhh, okay what does that spell?" and he says

"SOAP...I already know that, but what I don't know is what a TAMPON is!".

Seriously - this is why I had kids...:-)

Oh No You Dit'n!

I left an apple on my side table at my desk over the weekend and there were some bites missing this morning. I jokingly mentioned to my coworkers how weird that was that there were bites missing - as in roaches can't take bites that big, hahaha. "No", they said "Rats can."

That's Right (You're Not From Texas)

"You say you're not from Texas
Man as if I couldn't tell
You think you pull your boots on right
And wear your hat so well

So pardon me my laughter
'Cause I sure do understand
Even Moses go excited
When he saw the Promised Land

That's right you're not from Texas
...but Texas wants you anyway"

(Lyle Lovett and His Large Band)

There are a few things that every child born in Texas knows the second he gasps his first breath of Texas air (no matter where he was conceived or where his parents come from).

1. Remember the Alamo
2. The stars at night are big and bright, deep in the heart of Texas
3. The state flag of Texas is the only state flag that can fly at the same height as the flag of the United States of America
4. Guuunnnnns

I took Tiki to Dick's the other days for some errands and we happened to be near the hunting/fishing section of Dick's. The real guns are locked in a cabinet, but the pellet, paint ball and some other types of guns that are sold in your basic plastic shrink wrap packaging are displayed on the end caps of the aisles. I can only assume they are not dangerous guns since they are wrapped in plastic (ha ha). I happened to be looking at goggles for Tiki and could see him at the end of the aisle looking at the climbing wall and the next thing I see is him coming back down the aisle holding a shrink wrapped package of a pistol of some sort and another larger gun (it was a set :-)). He sat right down in the middle of the goggle aisle to more closely examine the guuuunnnns and got near enough to me to make sure I was able to answer any important questions he might have regarding the guuuuunnnnnns. Such as...

1. Can I buy these?
2. How much are they?
3. Can I use my own money?
4. How about when I grow up?
5. Can I use daddy's money today then?
6. Are these bullets?
7. Can we look at the other guuuuunnnns?
8. Can I show those boys "my" guuuunnnns?

Sweet! That's my 4 year old...

That's right, you're not from Texas, but Texas wants you anyway. :-)