A New View of Manny

I've decided that I hate sitting outside like a weird-o waiting for the garbage man. Maybe it's just me; but, it's occurred to me that I don't totally enjoy sitting on the curb at dawn to wait for trash collection. There are lots of reasons for this:

1. It's cold
2. I'm beginning to wonder if the trash man thinks it's actually me who is waiting for him and the kid is a cover
3. It's boring to wait for him to come back around the cul-de-sac
4. The neighbors think I'm weird
5. Collin gets filthy while we wait because we have no grass
6. It smells like trash next to the cans
7. Half the time, I'm still in my PJs too...that's fun for the neighbors to see (see 4)
8. I just don't get it!!?? Garbage truck, hydraulics, woo-hoo? Can we move on now?
9. He arrives at unpredictable times, meaning sometimes I have to drag the kid from his breakfast chair out there, covered in food and we look like white trash on the curb just so we don't miss him. (aka covered in food, filth and in PJs...nice...see 4)
10. I'm sick of it!!!

Alas, I've devised a plan. It's wacky. It's crazy. It's out there. It just might work. A chair in front of the window!! Collin can see the garbage man from the window, and he can see him all the way down the cul-de-sac and back! It's better than before. The greatest part is we don't have to go outside and I can continue on with my life indoors! Wheee! How great is that!? He was a little displeased when he drove out of sight, but otherwise it went well.

How Mommy is Surviving Right Now

I'm pretty sure that Collin's sweet disposition was attached to his hair; and when we chopped it off, we removed all the sweet boy. That can be the only reasonable explanation for his sudden change in demeanor of late. He's become unruly, unresponsive to the sound of my voice and all around snarly. I'm pretty sure that in the next twenty-four hours, I'm either going to have a nervous breakdown or leave him outside for the crows to pick at. Something's going to give. Or, I'm just going to keep holding onto the cute, sweet moments that I hate to admit do happen more often than not.

Like this morning when he was pretty certain that this was a reasonable ensemble in which to start the day. Yes, those are PJ's, sunglasses and....underwear on his head.

In all fairness, it boils down to one issue...stop, and I do mean STOP touching your pee, Collin! For the love of all that is sacred on this earth, STOP!

You Know You're Cool When....

You wear your shades in the bathtub.

And your mother takes blurry, extremely close-up pictures of it in an attempt to NOT capture the fact that your Daddy caved and got in the tub with you to play after your relentless begging. Yeah, it's cute and fun but not so pleasing to the general public eye. Oh, don't worry, there are plenty of blackmail images available for my future use.

Big Shoes to Fill

Collin loves it when Daddy comes home from work. He gets a little excited; so much so that I have a two minute video of Daddy throwing Collin all over the room today. Too bad I don't feel like waiting a million years to upload it. Sorry! That's just way too big of a file! But, look how cute they look just chilling and Collin telling Daddy all about his day.

Then, randomly Collin decided that it was vitally important that he learn to tie a shoe...NOW! (Is there any other time period for a two year old?) You can guess how well that lesson went. He is only two, after all.

Of course, walking a mile in Daddy's shoes is great fun for all to watch. He did surprisingly well considering the stiff nature of stupid chlorframs.

Poindexter Tortures Daddy

Collin tried on Daddy's glasses today. Sure, he looks cute; but, he packs some menace behind that innocent facade.

We're thinking of petitioning the senate commission on torture to add this to the list of non-allowable tactics for getting information from detainees. What do you think? Holding a person's nose to jam a cement mixer in their mouth just doesn't seem cool to me. Where does he learn this stuff?

Mommy Milestone: Puke

Anyone who knows me at all knows that I don't deal well with puke. Okay, that's an understatement. I deal with puke about as well as a mental patient, the kind that needs a straight jacket, deals with being plunked into the real world without medication. Yeah, I'm that freaked out by it. It was a subject that was actually addressed when Bryon and I talked about having children: as in, "can I handle it if I get morning sickness?" and "can I handle it if my children actually do vomit?" Laugh if you will, but I'm sure someone out there is equally phobic about vomit. No one out there really likes the old pile of stinky stuff, but I really, really would rather die, literally. I've stealthily avoided it so far. I didn't have morning sickness and I even lucked out with a kid who thought spitting up amounted to a bit of a burp bubble.

The run is over, folks. It started innocently enough with me cleaning the potty and putting him in time out for touching his poop, AGAIN. I think I see a pattern emerging, don't you? Regardless, he was neatly contained in his time out chair in the kitchen while I scrubbed the potty clean of the weirdly loose poo that had stuck to the bottom and wouldn't come loose (eewww!). I was already kind of convinced this kid had picked up a bug of some kind just from that alone! As I finished and came out to the kitchen to retrieve my little peanut what do I discover? Oh, nothing but that he'd vomited all over himself in the chair and was EATING IT!

"Sandwich came out mouth, mommy!" he said.

It was bad enough that the dog was licking it off of him, the floor and the sides of the chair; to see my own child picking bits of bologna off of his pant leg and eating it! Oh, there are no words. None.

All I can say is that I have survived my first brush with vomit. I cleaned it up. I did not die. I did not faint. I did not swoon. I did not even gag. But, I am glad that my hubby is back by dinnertime tonight to help me with the care and non-feeding of this sick kiddo as the amount of stuff that is coming out of him is surprising and foul.

Still, he's adorable. He's taking a liking to the bucket. And, he is a surprisingly energetic patient. Aren't kids supposed to be low-energy when they are sick?

Whole Lot A Shakin' Goin' On!

Mama always takes a deep breath and braces herself when she decides to take the boy to Disneyland solo. It's not that it isn't the happiest place on earth. It isn't that I don't get choked up every time I take him through the gate because it's so overwhelming to share such a great time with him. It's just that it can be exhausting to take a toddler by yourself. Still, the fun outweighs the work.

The day may not have been off to the greatest start. Okay, I'm exaggerating. He only had one time out; and, I must admit that taking a picture of him smack in the middle of it sort of distracted him and made him giggle, thus defeating the punishment. But, it was way too cute.

Anyway, we made it to Disneyland and the day rocked. We rode something we never rode before, the little horse drawn buggy that goes down main street. Collin thought that Kaleb, our horse was pretty cool. I attempted the whole "extended arm" photography thing. I'm fairly impressed with myself. I'm also impressed with the bags under my eyes. Collin woke up at 2 am last night to wet the bed, and stayed up for thirty minutes to cry about me changing the sheets. (we're working on underwear at night just for the heck of it...why not? He's stayed dry for the most part).

Alas, what's more fun than a real horse? Why, a fake one of course! This would be Collin on the carousel. Can you tell he likes it?

I learned something about Collin today too...that he's tall! Well, the Disneyland definition of tall enough, that is. He's officially tall enough to ride the smallest coasters there. So, we stood in line for the coaster in toon town. Oh, how excited he was. Oh, how excited Mommy was. It was more cool than I can describe. Then, literally as our feet were about to hit the car, the little voice on the big speaker made us get back off. Apparently, there was an earthquake that we didn't feel. When that happens, all the rides at Disneyland are shut down and inspected by engineers for safety, especially roller coasters. The roller coasters take the longest to re-open, like three to four hours. Since it was almost 6 o'clock, we went home. Pooh! Next time! I guess we'll share that experience with Daddy too!

Collin and I will just have to share the teacups again as one of those "Mommy and Me" only memories, I guess! (Seeing as how they make Daddy barf!)

It's pretty obvious who's stronger stomach Collin inherited...no barfy barfy for Collin. Oh, and look who had to buy a new sweatshirt today. When the weather report says 70s, Mommy didn't predict having to bring a sweatshirt. I think he looks cute!

Thanks, Granny!

This is one of the outfits that Collin got for his birthday. Well, not the grungy sweatshirt; but the adorable alligator shorts and polo. It actually made me squeal; it was so adorable. It reminded me of those embroidered critter khakis you can buy for a zillion dollars at Crewcuts (the J.Crew for kids), that I'd never buy because, while I love them, I'm not insane. Anyway, I love it. Don't you think Collin should be a J. Crew kid's model?

He's even got action shots down. Granny, you are a great shopper. And, Collin knows how to work it. Maybe, I'm biased. Or, maybe he's just the cutest kid on the planet.

Not a Picture of the "Poop Incident"

So, Collin takes his poops alone. I think this is a good quality of his. It means I don't have to put in grunt time with him and I can go about my business while he goes about his. It means I have to put in minimal time with the stink too; just a bit of dumping the, well, dumps, into the big toilet when he's done and some wiping. I can handle that. He's always done remarkably well with this procedure...until today.

Today, when I heard the grunting cease, as is my cue to enter and begin wiping, I was appalled at the scene. In the few seconds it took me to stop washing dishes and make it to the bathroom to commence the wiping procedure (no, I don't leave him alone in there for GADS of time), he'd made a Jackson Pollack of himself with poop. It was beautiful really, if you are into that kind of abstract art with feces. He picked his poop up out of the potty, rubbed it all over his leg, on his face, in his hair. It is the stuff of legend really. The best part? The tantrum he threw when I insisted on washing it off. Or wait, maybe the best part was that in the midst of this, he decided to sit down on my lap before I had a chance to wipe his bottom. That was pretty awesome too.

So, I leave you with the glory that I did NOT decide to take a picture of this blessed event. Instead, I decided to take a picture of him being cute today. Grandparents, this is the grandson you love and miss, not the one you are glad you weren't here for today.

See, he was pretty fun after he got out of the wading pool this afternoon. He's naked under this towel, by the way; which is totally adorable because he decided that getting dressed was overrated after swimming and wanted to let it all hang out for a while. Mommy, however, decided that shades were NOT actually appropriate dinner attire and made him put clothes on.

I also nixed his idea of wearing his underwear on his head, despite the fact that it was indeed funny.

The Hottest Tot

What did you think I meant?

It was absurdly hot today; not that I'm complaining, of course. The day Bryon gets orders out of here and we have to move, I will cry, wail and bemoan my fate to the Air Force gods until you all can't stand hearing another word about it. But, considering it is only April, it was a bit unusual for it to be in the 90's, I think. Alas, we swam.

And, we stripped. Okay, only one of us stripped. The other one of us sweltered and decided it was inappropriate to walk around the house in her underwear.

And that's all for today folks!...ba-dum-chee! (that's my best imitation of a drum sound)

P.S. Does anyone else miss those sweat curls that he would've had today? Anyone? Anyone? Only me? Okay.

The First Cut is the Deepest

I'm not sure there are words appropriate enough for description of this monumental event. It was; however, time. He was scratching at his eyes and the tips of his ears all the time. It was making me feel like I was torturing him just a little bit to continue NOT cutting it. Still, I had to practically pinch myself to keep from crying. This is ranking up there as one of my worst days as Mommy so far. The cupcakes we stopped and bought at Cold Stone as his "special treat" for being such a good boy the whole day were partially for me too.

Don't get to used to this hair...it's about to disappear!

He was a champ. He loved the whole thing; well, all except the cape around his neck which he thought was some sort of torture device.

See, Collin is pretty convinced that they were trying to strangle him with this cape.

Yeah, I made them give me a lock of his hair...and then some. I don't care if I seemed crazy.

And, anything that promises to give him a lolipop at the end is sure to be a winner in his book.

Now, I feel like I actually have to get to know him again. He literally looks like a little STRANGER to me. I finally cried when we put him down for a his nap and he said, "Mama stop sad please!" It was adorable. That's my sweet boy. I even got a hug out of the deal...and a head butt. He is a boy, afterall.

The new, and I'm told, "improved" Collin.

Today Magnum P.I. Will Be Played By....

Chris Farley.

Or, Collin McClain. I guess it depends on how you look at it. I choose to look at as Collin McClain, especially when he's making the Chris Farley face.

You may say it looks like the ham and cheese smile. I say there's a small distinction that, yes, maybe only a mother can recognize. I hate the Chris Farley face when he makes it. I love the ham and cheese face. So, for today, the mug shot, no expression pose may be better to show off his outfit.

He decided to wear a hat today, all be it, briefly. Whatever, the case was, I took that decision and ran with it. Since it was a Detroit hat, and it happened to coincide with Hawaiian Friday, he looked a lot like Tom Selleck in his Magnum P.I. days.

(who, by the way, in all photos I could find wore plenty of Hawaiian shirts and plenty of Detroit caps but not both at the same time. What the heck! Apparently, he thought the hat was just to casual for "dressed up" Hawaiian shirts. I don't know; I didn't watch the show.)

Of course, it wasn't Collin's fault he looked like an 80's sex symbol. He just goes with the flow around here and Mommy didn't stop him like she should have. Noooooo, she just snapped pictures, later to incriminate him. He doesn't look like he minds too much at the moment.

He also looked darn cute. I also figured that since I managed to break him of the pacifier, I would take on the challenge of finally getting this kid to wear a hat and keep it on his head for longer than thirty seconds. So, we went to the park with a hat on, with the promise of a cookie when he got home if he kept it on the whole time.

Did he get a cookie when he got home? No. Did he keep it one relatively long? Yes. He wore it about 80% of the time. But, I'm a stickler for rules so no cookie. I know, I suck. But, it was a success in my book. I think it would've stayed on if it fit him better. It kept popping off, so I probably should give him a cookie. We'll see; maybe later for something random, like hugging me.

P.S. Thank you Aunt Roty for letting us participate in Hawaiian Friday again by buying Collin a shirt that actually fits him!

He Loves Rock n' Roll

Collin and I had another date today. Daddy's gone, so aside from the torture I decided to inflict upon him last night via taking away his drug of choice permanently (aka pacifier), I thought it might be nice of me to take him somewhere fun too, just the two of us. I also thought it might be fun to wear him thoroughly out so that tonight when he went to bed, he might not ask for the darn pacifier for quite as long. So, despite the fact that he let me get all of six minutes of sleep last night, I took him to the zoo today AND out for a special dinner. He looks like he deserves it, doesn't he? Look how pathetic he looks after he finally fell asleep for the first time last nigt, for the first time, pacifier-free.

The crazy part of the zoo plan? We didn't bring in the stroller. Yeah, I took wearing the kid out as a serious mission. We walked the whole way. He was so tuckered out that he actually started laying down on the sidewalk when I refused to carry him further. Hey, you'd stop carrying him too! He's heavy and it's a long walk! I don't care if he's cute. But, I relented and picked him up after realizing what it looked like to passers-by to have me standing over my exhausted child and begging him to just get up and walk. I mean, he wasn't THAT tired, he just didn't want to walk anymore. But to someone else, I probably looked like a crazy person.

Anyway, we went to Redondo Beach for a burger at Ruby's Diner afterward. He had so much fun there, coupled with lying down in the parking lot on the way back to the car, of course. Jeesh, you'd think I was killing the kid! He took a nap between these two events! I think he was milking the exhaustion factor a little bit; and, he wasn't even the one who had to carry his sorry butt a half-mile through the darn zoo back to the car earlier in the day. I'm the one who should've been lying in the street in the ocean breeze, I think! Besides, I'm the one who's now got his cold and he's the one on the mend.

The upside is that we had an awesome day together, just hanging out and seeing animals. He's pretty sure we saw peacocks and elephants, which we did not. He's also pretty sure that it's a really good idea to lick, yes LICK the toilet seat cover dispenser in the restroom at Ruby's. EWWWW! I'm just trying to block that memory, along with the memory of him touching the floor of the public restroom of the beach access public parking garage at Redondo Beach, which he just HAD to use before we went home. I'll just do my best to replace those two memories with the fact that we were out of the house all day today and he didn't have a single accident. Wahoo!

Or, I'll replace it with the memory of ride home from dinner, during which Collin decided to sing along with Joan Jett on the radio..."I Love Rock and Roll." Yeah, so put another dime in the juke box, baby. As, I type this, he was singing it to his monkey upstairs in his bed. Apparently, it's a catchy little tune.

I Couldn't Decide

Collin's been a poopie head today. Let me qualify that statement with some explanation. He threw a forty-five minute tantrum that revolved around my not giving him a piece of bread. He hid in the closet to pee his pants during nap time (AFTER he refused to go). He has named ever body part imaginable prefaced by the words "boo boo," pretty much endlessly all day long in the whiniest voice possible and he's a dripping wet faucet of drool, snot and tears all at once. Still, I'm in love with him. Who wouldn't be with this going on?

Despite the description of his craptacular day, he's had these moments of awesomeness.

He gave me so many ham and cheese smiles when I whipped out the camera to capture this moment of "mama shoes on!" that I couldn't pick which picture was the best one.

Could you?

Seriously, these are the best. He's such a cutie pie. (In case you are wondering, Daddy's gone again, and when he's gone, pants are apparently optional around here.)

I decided to forgive him, even for the pee pee incident. I know it's just because he doesn't feel good. That's the first time he's done that. Still, it made me angry enough to for the ultimate punishment for him. Pacifiers all gone!

They are in "the trash." Well, he thinks they are. They are in a coffee cup in the cupboard. I've vowed not to give in tonight when he wails. I didn't give them back for the rest of his nap, despite the fact that he refused to go back to sleep. I didn't give in the rest of the day today, despite the forty-five minute tantrum and I've not given in for all our trips to the potty. It's involved a lot more positive clapping and a few more cookie rewards to remind him that sure, he's capable of peeing without something in his mouth, but I think we'll make it past this hump. It'll be nice to get rid of that darn thing. Wish me luck tonight.

Oh, and wish me luck with base maintenance. Anyone who's ever lived in base housing knows how bad we need it. I have a hole in my house! I took a bath last night and Bryon came in and yanked me out by the hair to show me that the tub water was leaking out downstairs into the kitchen! Okay, he didn't pull me out by the hair; he gently asked me to get out so the tub didn't come crashing through the floor. Still, maintenance was reluctant to remove the drywall to fix the moldy gross mess. They thought just fixing the leaky overflow valve was enough. Grrrr.

Poor Little Sick Boy

So, do you feel sorry for this kid? Yeah, I'm not sure I do either. He doesn't look all that pitiful. Still, he sure acts like the biggest baby I've ever seen when he's sick. Seriously. He spends most of his energy telling me just how sick he really is; despite the fact that I've used all of four tissues so far to wipe that nose of his (okay, maybe because I'm a little frugal and reuse tissues a lot but still, that says a lot for just how runny his nose isn't). Yes, he's sick. Yes, his nose is a bit runny. Yes, he sounds congested. Sure, he's coughing. Sure, he's hot and cold. Blah, blah, blah. I love the kid more than life itself but he whines a big show.

Anyway, he's gotten to watch more t.v. in the past two days than in his entire life combined because of this life-threatening illness he's trying to convince me that he's got. Between his "shows" as he's calling them, he tells me that he's got "boo boos," everywhere, (today it was mainly his eyes) and that he wants to go back to bed. He hauls his tookus back up there for little 20 minute flop-fests on his bed where he just stares at the ceiling and yells for me to sit on the floor and stare with him. It's fun being the parent of this sick kid, let me tell you.

Okay, now the good part. He's a hug machine. So, grandparents that aren't here, sorry! You're really missing out. He's actually stopped mid-pee to get up and give me a hug just because I was there, sat back down and finished up his business. Yeah, he's on love overload right now. That, I can live with. The whining, I can do without.

Oh, and by the way; you guys should've been here yesterday despite risking exposing yourself to the plague because look what I did! Doesn't this look good?

Cheesecake! Am I the hostess with the mostest or what? I was so proud of myself...until, I cut into it and it was undercooked in the middle. I am known, seriously, KNOWN for my cheesecake (FAMILY it's time to comment here!!!!). I have never undercooked a cheesecake. Grrrr. So, it may look good, but it was only good on the outside two thirds.

Don't worry, I was redeemed on the cookies :)

And, the fresh strawberries, and the brie and french bread, etc........boy, you really should be in our book club, huh?