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.

Who needs Disney World when you can go to Target...

Every 2 1/2 year olds favorite past time is to go to Target right?  I mean, spending $108.00 to finally win a toy worth $0.38 at Chuck E Cheeses is lame compared to all the fun to be had riding in a big red shopping cart.  

Today, we had the world at our feet.  So many things to do in town with no plans to hold us back.  We asked Nathan when he woke up what he wanted to do today.  The Zoo? The Science Center? An Art Festival?  No....He instantly replied "I want to go to Target".  He must have been dreaming about it!

So, off we went to Target.  You should have seen his face light up as we turned the corner.  It was like we were at Disney World.  He actually made up his own "We're going to  Target" song to the tune of Twinkle Twinkle Little Star.  It's amazing. You should hear it.

The wind was blowing through his hair as we zipped up and and down the isles.  He giggled and yelled "weeeee" while I picked up packages of meat over and over as they fell out of the top part of the cart since any groceries in Nathan's part of the cart would cramp his style.  

We spotted the free sample lady and noticed it was the last sample on the table.  I knew I'd really have to act interested in bear-shaped cheese crackers to get the sample and get away from the table as fast as possible.  I think that's the worst part about free samples, you feel obligated to pick up the box of whatever it is they are trying to sell you, pretend to be amazed at the low calorie content, take a coupon that you don't intend to use and act like you are on your way to grab a box of said food item only to then duck down the canned food isle when she is talking to the next victim to avoid a dirty look from the sample lady.  Too much work for a free sample in my opinion.  Aside from that, today's outing was pure bliss...

Anyway,  I realized today that I don't need to spend money on expensive trips to amusement parks, or buy my kid lots of toys to make him happy.  All we have to do is take a trip down the street to Target....Where they have more red shopping carts than your heart would ever desire, free day old cookies for kids, the occasional run-in with a friend and people-watching galore.  

Apparently, Dreams really do come

 true.

"Mommy, I want a chocolate chip pancake"

<- Exibit "A": Nathan's latest pre-school creation. It seems to be a kite with streamers and shapes glued on.  Nathan definitely held the glue in his hands for about 13 seconds while telling the teacher "I do it" before he gave up to run off and play with cars.  At which time the teacher had to figure out how to make it look like he actually helped by gluing on the shapes a bit crooked.  They like us to be impressed, but not too impressed, or we would think he didn't make it.  Sine the refrigerator is already full with Nathan creations, I thought a we could start decorating the bedrooms.  Anyway, back to exibit "A" later. 

Fast forward to 2:57am this morning.  I had been soundly sleeping for at least 15 minutes since the last time Josh's snoring woke me up and I had to elbow him in the ribs to wake him up so he would stop and I could fall asleep again.  When all of a sudden the noise of his pager vibrating on the wooden night stand and then ridiculous beeping make us both jump.  He knows one of his patients is due, but seems shocked anyway, maybe because it was only 3:00am.  Luckily, she is only 1 cm dilated, so I figure we have plenty of time to sleep before he has to go in.  Wrong....3:37am, the pager.....yes again.  This patient has gone from 1 cm to 5 cms in less than an hour!  Who does that??? This woman must be some super baby-spitting-out robot or something...or maybe she has just had 14 children already.  Non-the-less, Doctor Josh is on his way in. 

Now, you think this wouldn't affect me too much, except for the fact that the brilliant people who designed this house, put the two other bedrooms directly over the garage.  (I know we are brilliant to purchase said house)  At any rate, I know the sound of the garage door is going to wake up Nathan.  So as Josh opens the garage door I lay there as still as I can, because for some reason I think that If I'M quiet enough, the door won't wake up Nathan.

It's 4:00am and I think we're home free!  Nathan slept through the crazy pager, Josh tripping over the night stand and screaming some profanity as he bumped his knee, and the garage door. I also managed to keep the dog quiet though the whole thing.  A feat since when one of us leaves, he obviously doesn't realize that one of us just left, so he starts barking to welcome us home.  Nice!  I have 2 more hours of sleep!  Oh, and the heat is coming on, great, I'll be nice and cozy until Nathan comes in at 6:00am climbs into bed and kicks me in the head a few times until I get up to make him a chocolate chip pancake.

Uh oh, what's that noise??  Something tumbling around in Nathan's room.  It sounds kind of like paper dragging across the wall.  Wait, it is paper dragging across the wall!  It's exibit "A"!  Super smart Mommy hung the kite over the heat vent and the heat that just came on is making the kite dance, and loud enough that Nathan is sure to wake up.  CRAP!  He's up.  It's all over. Three kicks in the head and I hear "Mommy, I want a chocolate chip pancake".  It's only 4:15am.

6:00am Fun!

It's 6:00. "Mommy, I have poop in my diaper!" Ahhh...the sweet constant reminders that the job of Mom never ends.  "Sheryl help me, Nathan won't put a diaper on and he's peeing on the towel".  Thanks, Daddy, just what I wanted to hear on my day of relaxation!  Well, we are only 3 hours into the day and it's already been a long one!  More time to enjoy Mother's Day, I guess!  Happy Mother's to each and every Mother out there.  I feel your pain!