Yay for Fall!

I think I've mentioned it before, but I LOOOOOVE fall! We went to the Apple Orchard today, and had a simply fabulous time. Among other things, we rode a camel, (and a pony -- you know how Lil' C is about those ponies), got to pet a zebra, crawl through a straw maze, and watched some racin' pigs. (I got a video just for you Mom! Bless her heart, she was so disappointed when there weren't any racing pigs at the fair this year...) Lil' C was just plumb exhausted when we left, and promptly fell asleep in the car on the way home. BabyDaddy and I spent the rest of the afternoon putting out some fall decorations. Did I mention he bootlegged a design for a pumpkin lamp? It's just a plywood box with a jack-o-lantern cut into it and a light inside. We saw one at the festival we went to last weekend - it's one of those Primitive type decorations that I love, but BD refused to pay $20 for it and insisted he could make one on his own. He did a really good job, except for the fact that we got the dimensions a little bit wrong. The thing is huge! I'll post a pic when he's done with it. Other than the fact that it looks like it could eat a small child, I think it's lovely! And it's a welcome respite to see him working on something that doesn't smell like it needs to be hauled off by the Dead Wagon. (Those of you who aren't from the country won't know what the Dead Wagon is -- and don't ask. You wouldn't want to know anyhow.) I WOULD have a husband who thinks mounting dead animals is tantamount to art.
Things could be worse I suppose -- and he is generally good, so I try to just stay out of the garage. Anyway, we had a good weekend, and I'm already about half-sick thinking about my alarm going off in the morning. It's always fun to get to hang out with Lil' C all weekend. BabyDaddy and I laugh to watch how he is changing as he gets older. You can definitely tell that he has a bit of us both in him. He picks up every minuscule particle of dust/dirt/food that he finds on the floor and will bring it to you. "Trash Mommy, yuck." (That's BabyDaddy's extreme distaste for dirt shining through.) I tend to buy lots of cute decor items for our house, and then never do anything with them, because I can't decide where to hang/sit/set up anything. You know those primitive stars that everyone hangs on the front of their houses? Well, I picked up an adorable small set of them for inside, but have never decided what to do with them. Last night, Lil' C got them out and went over to the wall. Baby Daddy and I almost peed our pants watching him. He would say "Here!", and place one of the stars on on the wall. Then he would move it a fraction of an inch higher. "No, Here!" Then he would go across the room to another wall. "No, Here!" God love him, he's going to grow up to be indecisive just like me!

"Ain't nothin' gonna hold me down..."

This is a cussin' moment right here ya'll. (When I get angry, my Southern roots start findin' their way out of the ground and into the sunlight.) But, my Mama reads this, bless her heart, so I will refrain. But that doesn't mean that I'm not really angry. Actually, it does -- because now, I'm not angry anymore. Now, I'm just determined. If you can't tell, I had a darn crappy, pretty near disastrous day at work. I don't normally blog about my job, because I don't want to waste one more milisecond than I have to on it. Most days, it is tolerable. Some days, it is even rewarding. Today, it was none of the above. I won't go any further, cause Lord knows who all is reading this thing, but suffice it to say IT. WAS. NOT. GOOD. Anyway, I got in my car after leaving, (10 minutes late -- par for the course), and I turned on my 'angry' music. This is the most ol' school, ghetto rap that I have access to. To look at me, you would never suspect I have a closet obsession with Notorious B.I.G., but he rocks my world. (My brother would have been so proud.) So, I plugged in my iPod, scrolled over to "Hypnotize", and became a duck -- I just let it all roll off. To his credit, when I called BabyDaddy in a panic threatening to walk out of my office, and asking him to check our account balances and see how long we could survive, he immidiately packed up Lil' C, and came to my rescue. We had a delightful, but painfully short lunch, followed by some playtime in the children's section at the local library. Then, when I got home tonight, he had dinner ready and had baked me my favorite cake. (Yellow with white icing and rainbow sprinkles if you really want to know). Aww, shucks, THAT'S why I married him! :) So, now, it's all better. Life is too short to waste time being angry.

Fun at the River

Getting schooled on rock skippin'...

All I Wanna Do is Dance!

Friends, inspiration, and other sappy observations...

First of all, let me just begin by saying that reading Randy Pausch's The Last Lecture should be a life requirement. I'm adding that to my Life Requirements list. #1). Bootie dance in your car at least once per week. #2) Read The Last Lecture. I am putting this book on my Christmas List. (Take note Mom.) Being that if I bought every book I read, I would have to take out a home equity loan, I normally take advantage of the free services of our local library. However, this one is a keeper. In fact, I would do well to have a copy in my car, on my desk at work, and in my bedside table drawer. It's THAT good. I would love to list all my favorite quotes from the book, but if I did, it would be pretty much the whole thing. Just go out and get yourself a copy.

Since I'm waxing all sappy, let me just go on to say a word about friendship and family. My mom is a pretty smart lady. She's my seemingly impossible to replicate example for life. I could not go into the amount of sacrifices she has made for me in my lifetime. (If I did, it would probably just embarrass her anyway, so I won't bother.) All that being said, her life experiences have given her a lot of good wisdom to share. I wasn't so much able to appreciate it earlier in my life, but now that I have my own family, I'm beginning to realize the great value she has to offer. Perhaps the most influential statement she has made to me recently is, "Your family is who you choose it to be." This has proven itself to be true, and now that I know what to look for, I am seeing it more and more. I did not have any sisters growing up, but karma has seen fit to put two in my life now. Just this weekend, we got to spend some time with some of our closest friends. It is a miracle to me to watch my son interact with his not-quite-biological "auntie and uncle", along, of course, with the Lil' Diva. I don't have any sisters, but if I could have hand-picked myself a couple, one would be Ames. She is one of the most fiercely loyal, honest, and caring women I have ever had the pleasure of knowing. And Lil' C adores her. Remember me describing THE BEDTIME WARS? Scattered showers compared to the hurricane that blows through when you try to take him away from her. When she watches him for us, he will cheerfully chirp, "Bye-Bye Momm-ieeeee", before he turns to get back to whatever they are playing. I came to pick him up one evening to find him snuggled up with Ames in the recliner, sound asleep. "Did he scream? Was it awful?" I nervously asked. With a nonchalant shrug, she replied, "Nah, he got his sippy and just curled up and went to sleep". He looked like a happy little cat. At least once a day, he will lead BabyDaddy or I to the door and look up hopefully at us. "Aim-ee? Jac-ub?? Ab-iiieeee?" God love his little heart.

The other "might-as-well-be-a-sister" who deserves some floor-time, is Auntie Jess. She is the picture of the quirky, fun-loving, contagious laughing auntie that every child should have. She, like Ames, would fight to the death for you. (I've found that a lot of people will come in and out of your life, but only a few will be there when you really need it, and these two women would.) It was great to spend time watching Jess and Lil' C "skip rocks" at the river last weekend. Not that there was a lot of skipping going on, no offense Jess.

So, whether they like it or not, these people will forever be "my family". And do you know why? Because my mom says so. That means it just IS. :)

Preparing for Battle

I just finished putting the Muffin down for the night. Apparently, only sissies go to bed without a fight -- at least that's what BabyDaddy says. But then, it's fine for him to say that. He gets to sit on his arse and play Perfect Dark on the gosh-forsaken X-Box, while I try desperately to hold on to what could quite easily be mistaken for a wriggling, wet baby seal. If I've ever wanted to chop off his man parts, it's during what BD and I "affectionately" refer to as THE BEDTIME WARS. (I must always type it in all caps -- that's how I picture it in my head.) THE BEDTIME WARS usually begin between 7pm and 7:30pm, when I start trying to lure Lil' C into the tub.

Mommy: Let's go play with your bath markers!

Lil' C: No No Mommy.

Mommy: Don't you want to go play in the water? Mommy
will get out Bath-time Tiger and Pooh!

Lil' C: No bath.

Mommy: What about Bath-time Little Einsteins?
Wouldn't that be fun? (This is usually where the tiniest note of
desperation can be detected in my voice).

Lil C: Playing Mommy! NO BATH!

At this point, I resort to brute force -- I pick up Lil' C, and carry him, usually screaming (he now has decided he will protest all unwanted actions by squealing OW! OW! Oooooow! Like someone is tearing his arm off -- It makes a lovely little scene at the Wal-Mart, let me assure you.) So, I finally get him in the tub. As soon as he hits the water, he is happy. He splashes, adds more Mickey Mouse bubbles, draws on the walls, and points out various body parts. "Knee, Mommy! KNEE!" Yes, sweetheart, but that's actually your elbow... Then, comes THE BEDTIME WARS, part deux -- Getting out of the tub. And Lord, if you think it was a fit trying to get him in, just thank your lucky constellations that you're not there to get him out. He knows what's coming when I start gathering up the towel, and he scrunches under the faucet to sit on the drain, so I can't unplug it. I usually lure him to the other side of the tub with a toy, and quickly pull the stopper. Lights, camera, action. This is where we get the stamping of the feet, shaking of the fists, and the screaming, OH THE SCREAMING. "Water! WAAAATTTTERRRR! NO BYE-BYE! NO ALL GONE! WAAAATTTER!" This little interlude is punctuated with Lil' C frantically moving bath toys, as if the water is hiding beneath them, attempts to cover the drain with his little hand, and flopping around on the tub floor like a wounded mermaid. As the last of the water swirls away, he will lay his cheek next to the drain, and sniffle out, "No more water....noooo more water." We go through this every night. Of course, the Battle of the Bath is not the end of THE BEDTIME WARS. We still have to fight the Please-put-on-your-Pajama-Pants Skirmish, the Your-Toothbrush-is-not-for-your-Hair Conflict, and the You-Cannot-Have-Another-Pickle Crusade. (He's really into pickles these days.) Then, when all of that is done, we head into his room, armed with his firetruck pillow and sippy. Usually, if I'm lucky, he's down in about 15 minutes. Then, I'm free to stomp, (albeit quietly), back to the living room, and that worthless BabyDaddy. A few nights ago, he looked over and said, "Well, it went a little easier tonight, don't you think?" I threw a Tonka Truck at his head. Lucky for him, I missed.

"Let me see yer WAR face!"

Lil' C is 19 months old today. I have never, in my entire life, dealt with such a non-stop, whirlwind, crazy-creating, sometimes-puts-me-in-the-mind-of-a-rabid-chinchilla little being. Seriously. And I love every last second of it. He is alternate parts snuggler, banshee, and stand-up comedian. He's like Forest says, (yeah, yeah, I know I've been on a Gump kick lately), "You never know what you're gonna get..." I found this phrase particularly true yesterday afternoon, as I watched Lil' C strip himself of his shorts and diaper and run laps around the couch in his sneakers like a miniature half-time streaker, all the while screaming, "Whoo-Ah! Whoo-Ah!" (Don't ask me to translate -- I have no clue.) But he certainly has his sweet side too. When I was putting him to bed tonight, he said "Noses, Mommy, noses!" This is his way of asking for Eskimo kisses, which he thinks are just about the funniest things, (right up there next to farts and hiccups, which he also finds hilarious, of course with BabyDaddy's approval.) It's always something new and different. The new favorite thing is counting. He loooooves to count things. He can get to ten perfectly, then he mumbles something that sounds like eleven, followed by a series of made-up "teens" (Um-teen, tee-teen, sy-teen) until he lands himself at "TWO-ON-TEE!". Then he starts counting in Spanish. :) Thanks Dora.

We got his hair cut for the first time last weekend. Yes, I teared up. Yes, I realized that this reaction was perfectly bloody ridiculous. No, it didn't matter. We took him to the Shangri-La of the hair cut world. I thought -- Hey! Why shouldn't we splurge for the first one? Looks like we'll be splurging for the next 10 years, because there is no WAY he will go anywhere else. They had an in-house slide, what they deem "fantasy" chairs (picture tractors, jeeps, motorcycles, and fire trucks), and TV's at every station. The kiddos get to pick out a video game to play or a movie to watch while they get their mop trimmed. Lil' C was able to practice his language skills further with Dora, and he was quite content for the entire time we were there. I was so proud of him! He came out looking like such a big boy, which made me tear up again....

It's Official...

My favorite new show of the season --

Yes -- it is COMPLETELY out there. It brought back fun memories of my mom, brother and I watching X-Files. Good stuff people, good stuff.