A sign?

Nathan has been getting quite good at drawing lately. He loves to draw super-heroes, people, trees, etc.....For Mother's Day he even drew a portrait of grammy...I asked him what the things were coming off of her feet and he replied...toe nails. Ok. Well, either grammy has some hygiene issues she needs to address, or Nathan has an interesting imagination.

The next round of drawings were a little more disturbing however.

I wasn't really sure what to make of this one:

When I look at it, I definitely see a fetus, complete with umbilical cord. That's all I really have to say about that. Again, issues we needs to address, or interesting imagination. He named this one "dinosaur".

Anyway, the last thing I want to know is where this this kid got his sense of humor. I mean what 3 year old thinks "I think I'll pick Daddy's nose with this foam finger I just got"...

Total Slacker!

Ok, so I've been slacking on the blog. The excuses are endless.....It's tax season (and I work in a tax office), I have a busy 3 1/2 year old, a husband that works ridiculous hours and mostly, I have no feeling in my extremities most of the time since starting up Farrell's again. For you non-midwesterners, Farrell's is a 6 day/week cardio-kickboxing/weight-training-resistance class that meets at 6:15am every day except for Sunday. I'm tired (and now more cranky than usual) and maybe a little crazy, but, swimsuit season is coming up and I have to at least attempt to wear something other than a moo moo while sitting on the edge of the Des Moines river (pretending it's a beach). Anyway, that's my update....Here is an update of Nathan's recent activity...

Nathan inherited me and Josh's sense of balance, agility and physical prowess. Which is pretty much equal to zero. So, we tried out gymnastics class for kicks and giggles. All was going well with the stretching portion and then Nathan

was feeling a bit to confident and got intrigued with the giant foam pit. Good thing he looks happy in the photo, because moments before, he was plunging to the bottom after getting too close to the edge, sliding off the edge and inadvertanly diving head first. The instructor dove in to rescue him and after the initial shock wore off, he actually seemed to like it.

Ok, let's talk for a second about my kid's relationship with his dog...It's a good thing he is too little to notice the fact that Pappy (yes, the dog's name is Big Pappy) is a little, let's say "fru fru"? When I bought him he was 4 pounds and hair-less. The lady at the pet store swore up and down that he would not get much bigger than 6 or 7 pounds and he was hypo-allergenic. Well, now Pappy is a whopping 15 pounds and has hair longer than I do. I think she lied.

Well, Nathan's favorite past time is to chase Pappy around until he growls at him and then laugh and pretend to like him so Pappy forgives him and then poke fingers in his eyes or something. I always swore that my kid would never treat animals this way. I was wrong...Don't be fooled by the photo, what you can't hear is Nathan saying "Pappy, if you move, I'm making you play the dinosaur game again. You know, the one where you are the plant-eater and I'm the veloca-raptor and I eat you".

So, I've shared this photo before. But hey, it's my blog, I can do what I want. We bought Nathan a Doctor Kit for Christmas so he could get used to what happens in the Doctor's office and maybe not throw up on the Doctor the next time we visit. So far, we've thrown up on the Hairdresser, the Doctor and the Dentist. All have asked us not to come back. Ok, we'll maybe they didn't go that far, but Nathan definitely didn't make the best impression. Well, instead of us practicing on him, Nathan decided he only want to be the doctor...

Look at how serious he is! I'm actually pretty scared at this point when he told me I needed my arm cut off because my heart wasn't beating! And then he put a band-aid on my toe so my headache would go away. I think he is almost as good as his Daddy....ps. notice the high level of concentration, this can be measured by the amount of drool....

365 days til 30

Today, I embark upon the final year of the 20-somethings. It's a great day to reflect upon the past decade and all that I've accomplished. It's also a great day to take a look at the past ten days and the whirlwind of events that transpired in Boston.

A lot was definitely accomplished, for example, Uncle Brad finally figured out how to build that linkin' log house he's been working on. Great job Uncle Brad!

As we took in the sites and sounds of New England, I had the opportunity to remember things about the place where I grew up. Where else can you get pizza, fish and chips and falafel all on one plate?

And don't forget about the people I got to spend 25 years of my life with. For example. this man here with the bedazzled shirt. How could I have possibly forgotten that grown men in Hooters restaurants wear diamond wings?!

And, it really brought a tear to my eye to drive down the streets of my childhood, to see this man, who doesn't even live in this house relieve himself, right in front of me. I really missed home that day.

Poo?

Well, it's been a while since I posted last.  Not because there aren't blog-worthy events happening, but, maybe the line between normalcy and my life is very fine and its hard to distinguish sometimes if other people would find the comedy in things that I do.  For example, I laugh hysterically any time I read www.cakewrecks.com, however, Josh tells me that his work colleagues don't find it as funny.  I don't get it!  How is anything funnier than cake with misspellings??  Or my neighbor that is OCD about mowing her lawn.  Seriously, this woman mows her lawn three times a day, I kid you not!  She doesn't even give the grass time to grow.  Photo of said neighbor coming soon...

So, anyway let me share with you something I've been pondering.   Each day, Nathan and I go for a walk.  He sits in the "boat stroller".  Don't ask me why he calls it a boat stroller, it looks nothing like boat, nor do we attempt to cross any bodies of water, it's a stroller.  

Well, every day, we walk past this mail box.   Now, the first time we walked by, I though to myself "why would anyone paint the word POO on their mail box?"  I mean, the dripping paint really accentuates the look and all, but why POO?  We walked past and and I figured there must be another explanation.  The next time we walked by, I thought, "Maybe a group of thugs painted it in some weird attempt to be gangsters and it's some kids "tag"?  Ok, maybe not. 

So finally, because I've already dedicated too much space in my blog to the "poo mail box".  We walked by today and I said to myself (because Nathan would have just thought I was crazy), "OH, it says 800, not POO, duh, your are an idiot, Sheryl!"  And then I looked at the house and the house # was 4271....Ok, not 800.  So why don't these people just buy silver spray paint and paint the whole damn mail box?   Any opinions?

Bubbles, bubbles everywhere...

Let me preface this with saying that I was one of those kids with a neat freak for a mom.  I would leave my clothes on the bathroom floor after I took a shower and magically, they would appear washed and folded in my drawer the next day.  I would leave a cup on the coffee and table and before I even took the first sip, it would be emptied, washed and back in the cabinet.  I never cleaned, did laundry or cooked a meal until I was in college.  Ok, so you're thinking "that's my story too, no big deal, you learn".

While I think I have a lot of things going for me, like, I can play a mean euphonium, make some kickin' sushi and I'm sure some other things I can' think of right now.  I have to admit, housework is not one of them.  Yes, in the last 5 years of home ownership, I have become pretty domesticated.  I can operate a vacuum and was pretty darn excited when I got a Dyson, I now own a swiffer, and motherhood has definitely drop kicked me into discovering ways of cleaning up bodily fluids that I never thought I would.  But, I have my flaws.  I can't keep a flower alive for the life of me, change the oil (or anything else for that matter) in my car and I just recently learned how to operate a lawn mower.  Ok, I know, you are thinking that this isn't unusual for a city girl.

But, people like me do get by in life don't they?  I mean, people eventually tell them how to do things and they become successful.  So, how come no one ever mentioned to me that using gel dish detergent in a dish washing maching was a no-no??

Who needs sleep?

One of the biggest battles here in the Tessier household is bed-time.  I'm sure you all know the drill as it's sure the be the same at your house..."One more Dora?"  "I need some milk first."  "I'm not tired, we need to do this 500 piece puzzle just three more times before I can go to bed."  This is exceptionally tough on grammy, because she just can't figure out those darn puzzles!  The "Elmo loves Nathan" puzzle is especially had for her, all 16 pieces really throw her for a loop every time.  Anyway, this will go on until he finally can't keep his eyes open any longer and he loses the fight with the sleep monster.  We usually find him laying on the floor of the living room zonked out.  Every morning I'm sure he wonders "how the heck did I get into my fire truck bed this morning?".  

Well, as much as this post is a plea for help, it's also to point out that hours of trying to get him into his room can be saved by simply going for a walk.  It never fails, except for the fact that he never stays asleep when we try to move him into the house.  The other problem is that every time we go for a walk, we have to make a deal.   Me: "Nathan, let's go for a walk."   Nathan: "I don't want to sit in the stroller." Me: "Nathan, You sit in the stroller and we can go to the park."  Nathan: "OK, Mommy"  Because there is no way he's going to allow himself to be strapped into

 that seat for 15 minutes without getting something out of it. Anyway, by the time we get to park, I look down to see that he's asleep!  So, I take the long route home to try to get some much needed exercise and pull into the driveway just in time for him to open his eyes, take a look around and yell "Hey! This isn't the park!"

Heads are Overrated...

I don't have much to say about this, however, I'm just concerned that we are sending out the wrong message with these mannequins.... I mean, why can't they have heads?  It is because you are supposed picture yourself in said apparel?  I'm not really sure, but, what I do know is that it's creepier than all heck to walk through Younkers with these head-less creatures all around you that I'm too fixated on the fact that they have no heads to actually look at their clothes.  I mean, look at the kid mannequin!  What head-less 4 year old have you ever met that has gangly arms and size 1 feet.  Creepy I tell you.

Next on the agenda...Our BINGO habit.  Josh and I are self-proclaimed "Old People"  Our idea of fun is going on a cruise and playing a good game of BINGO.  Seriously, I don't how old people can handle the action.  The adrenaline rush you get when you are one number away from BINGO and all you need is O-75 and the caller calls 0-72 is like none other.  Just ask the old lady at the table next to us last weekend at our Sunday afternoon bingo session.  She was onl

y playing 42 cards at a time that day, I kid you not.  I managed to snap this shot of her set-up while she was up getting a hershey bar.  These people are out of control.  Maybe we go for the people-watching just as much as we're hoping to win big bucks.  I really thought a couple of times that this lady was going to strangle "Frank" the BINGO caller if he didn't call G-54 one game.  I know this because after every number called she thought it would be appropriate to tell the other woman sitting next to her every number she still needed on every card, just incase she was wondering.  At least she doesn't have 500 trolls sitting across her table for luck, because she obviously thought the numbers were in the hands of Frank because she obsessively, after every number he called told Frank she was going to kill him if he didn't call the number she needed next.