Perspective

I recently posted about our, ummm, lengthy bathroom project. Last night, Bubba decided to poop in the master bathroom (aka the extended project).

As I am trying to convince him to poop (Don't worry, I'm sure I'll be posting more about Bubba's pooping issues. I know you care.), I distract him by showing him what has been recently accomplished in the small space. He looks around and then with a confused look asks me why the cabinet over the toilet is there.

Of course he would be confused. That thing has been propped against our bedroom wall across from our bed for the better part of his life. When we removed the cabinet from over the toilet to begin the project, Bubba was only 2. He's now 6.

Just sad. Sad. Sad. Sad.

Bubba still has issues with pooping and occasionally pees whenever and wherever he fancies, and he still has royal temper tantrums and other toddler behaviors, so obviously there are other things we deal with that haven't changed much since he was two.

That's not sad though, just frustrating and tiring!

WorkWorkWork

I took on too much work again. It's really not that much work, it's just that I'd rather not be doing it! And I have other things to do.

Moosie wasn't interested in napping today, so instead we went to Home Depot [Home Dee Pot as Hubby calls it] and bought stuff to finish the bathroom. I have to paint the sink w/ some dark grey enamel paint. We'll see how that works? I really have no idea what I am doing, but whatever! Then I have to paint the vanity. The trim work won't happen until we replace the trim in the rest of the house. The bathroom has been a project for over 5 years, what's another 5? Did I mention it is only like a 5 X 5 foot room? At least I put the outlet and light switch covers on today.

How depressing. Guess I better get back to work.

That's weird

Let's just acknowledge the big elephant standing here in this virtual room (Well, I have a whole heard of 'em, but I don't want you to get trampled!)

Moosie will be 3 in December and he is still breastfeeding. It doesn't feel the least bit "weird" to me although I thought I'd feel different before I breastfed a child.

For the most part, Moosie only wants to nurse when he is tired or crabby. He'll ask during the day when we are out and about, and it's easy to distract him. But there are times when there is no putting him off.

One such time was at my sister's house last weekend.

"He still nurses? That's kinda weird."

At least my sister says it. Most people just think it and give me a "Do what you have to do, but I kinda think it's weird" look. That's OK, it doesn't really bother me, but it does make me second guess is it weird?

We'll probably be weaning by 3, because it's becoming more of an inconvenience at night. I haven't slept through the night for about 8 years. Actually, I'm not sure my body could adapt to getting more than 3 hours of uninterrupted sleep!

Not sure why people are so weirded out by breastfeeding. Must be the sexualization of the breasts. Well if anyone saw my breasts after two kids and cycles of gaining and losing weight, they'd have to try pretty hard, maybe even squint and turn their head sideways, to consider them sex objects. Now that's weird.

Can they do that?

I was watching the news this morning when it was mentioned that Pluto is no longer considered a planet. Can they do that? I can barely make it through when a radio station changes its morning personality, how am I supposed to continue living when one of our planets has been dismissed from the solar system? No it didn't go anywhere, it's just been demoted to "dwarf planet." What's up with that? Couldn't they have come up with a better name for the category? And no, I do not mean "little person planet," people's first language doesn't apply to planets...or previously-known-as-a-planet universal bodies.

OK, I know there are more important things to worry about, but can a group of people just vote and change the solar system as we know it? More importantly the mnemonics we all learned to memorize the planets in the solar system are now defunct. That right there is enough to push my OCD-self over the edge. First teachers had to start using "take away" instead of "subtract/minus" and now this. Ugh.

Speaking of school, it's about time to get Bubba off the bus. I wonder what he learned today..and if it will even matter in 20 years?

Ready related story.

Can't argue with that

Both of my kids are literal, which can mean lots of laughs or lots of frustration. At speech therapy Moosie was running through the flashcards pretty fast. We were working on new signs, we were building receptive language, Moosie was making his typical vowel sounds... yadayadayada...

Anyhow, the speech therapist asks Moosie "Where do you put a hat?" Without missing a beat, Moosie points to the bakers rack across the kitchen from which no less than 10 hats are slung over various parts.

Her laughter quickly followed her gaze. Obviously not the answer she was expecting, but correct nonetheless.

Wednesday is library day

Yes, Wednesday is library day at school for Bubba.

For those of you childraising novices, this means when I forget to put the library books (you know, the ones Bubba has ignored all week) into Bubba's book bag, he will remind the lucky one accompanying him to the bus by refusing to get on the bus.

Likely conversation walking to the bus:

Bubba: "What's today?"
Daddy: "It's Wednesday."
Bubba: "Wednesday is library day. Where are my books?"
Daddy: "Awshit..."

You can't go to school on library day without your library books. That is unheard of!

And for those of you who are not experienced in living with a child with a disability who struggles adjusting to supposedly tiny ripples in the routine, "refuse" doesn't mean just standing there and pouting. "Refuse" means if mommy or daddy makes one wrong move, we may just experience the wrath of a full-blown kicking screaming punching thrashing ripping out-of-body meltdown. Yes, over not remembering books on library day.

But I love my husband, who has accepted this fact. He was the lucky one having to run through the house in a frenzy looking for the library books and receiving the dirty looks of the bus driver as he waited, and Bubba waited, and the other kids waited.

Daddy saved the day and all is well in Bubba's world for the moment. By the way, you don't want to be around when the school decides to change the classroom library scheduled day to say ummmm Tuesday.

Duke: 5 Bras: 0

We adopted our dog Duke from a local animal shelter in July. I took the boys "just to look" and Duker called out to me. Long story short, we brought him home a few days later, and the dog that appeared in the shelter to never jump, bark, etc. has since discovered his inner dogness and grown into a happy, muscular, and hyper chewmonger.

Anyhow, the dog has a thing for my bras, particularly the black ones. He waits eagerly until a fresh load of warm clothes is dumped on the infamous "laundry couch" for folding and then will actually root around shoving his nose through the pile until he emerges with a bra laced through his teeth. He then dances and shakes around the house like he is trying to kill it. Don't get me wrong, his moves look much more graceful than me chasing him around the house half dressed yelling "DROP!...Drop!" Once I finally catch him and pin down his 70+ pound bra-obsessed body, I literally have to stick my hands in his mouth and pry it open to relieve the slobbery, shredded bra.

I really don't know why I bother since he goes right back to the laundry couch to find another victim.

That time of the month?

Not sure what I was doing exactly, but I was in the kitchen when I caught Bubba fumbling into the living room out of the corner of my eye. As he does probably 15 times every minute, he dropped something. It must've been an important something, because seconds after it hit the ground he muttered in an appropriate grumpy old-man voice: "Oh Cramp!"

Not quite as funny as when he used to yell "You're under the rest!" when playing police man, but I got a good chuckle out of it regardless!

Kids will be kids

Bubba had been playing with big plastic megablocks. Recognizing the fact that the temptation for Chew-bacha (AKA the dog) would be too much, I asked Bubba to pick up the blocks when he showed signs of moving on to something else.

Forever trying to make tedious tasks fun, and therefore heading off nasty temperamental explosions, I asked Bubba to become a crane as he lifted blocks into the bag.

Joining in what I presumed would be fun, I made what I thought might be crane noises:

"Weeee...weeee...weeeee- thud" I deposited my first block into the bag.

My joy was rudely interrupted by Bubba's squealing:

"Mom, no noise!"

Shocked, I stammered, "You don't want to pretend to be a crane?"

"No mom," he spewed as he hurriedly picked up blocks, "I just want to pretend to be a kid picking up."

I sulked away, and the blocks are nicely stored in the bag...for now.

I guess sometimes kids just want to be kids.

Uh Oh!

Big news! Moosie has added a third word to his small but powerful repertoire of [understandable] spoken language . Along with the all important and enthusiastic "Yeah!" and "Doh!" [No], he now can emphatically say "Uh Oh!"

The backseat arguments between siblings is getting really exciting now!