On the Eve of Greatness

Collin's first Christmas Concert/Recital/Pageant (call it what you will, I call it awesomeness!!) is tomorrow. I'm so excited! Daddy even took the morning off of work so he could come. We've been practicing his songs. Well, that means I've been leading the sing-a-long by starting the songs and he'll chime in with the end of the lines. He refuses, flat-out to sing the songs alone or even accompanying me, Daddy or anyone else. He does, however, love the "Ho, ho, ho" part of Rudolph. Maybe it's because we encourage him to yell out the window at scantily clad women. Ba-dum-bum. I'm here all week, folks.

Anyway, I've got the video camera charging and the regular camera charged up all ready to delight and amaze. Of course, be prepared to appreciate the deluge of images of my child doing nothing. I'm fully prepared for him to stand stock-still, to simply sway to the music, or to flee from the stage in tears. Whatever he does though, I'm pretty sure he'll be cute doing it. You've seen him, right? Granny, be prepared to see the reindeer sweater in full splendor! Thankfully, it's been cool (downright cold!) this week in sunny SoCal. I even busted out the winter coat, in what Bryon called the ultimate overkill. I call it my rare California opportunity to wear the most beautiful J.Crew winter coat ever made.

Today, he was practicing his mouth muscles by eating the discarded Christmas card address labels. Oh, so by the way, we mailed Christmas cards today. Hooray!

Hey, I don't question vocal genius. I just sit back and observe. He figured out pretty quickly that they taste like crap.

The hilarious part to me was that before he decided to sample the stickers, he climbed up in his chair to do it.

We had a conversation today about these labels that went something like this:

Collin: Mommy, are these 'tickers?

Mommy: Yes.

Collin: Can I put them here? (indicating the coffee table)

Mommy: Well, are they stickers?

Collin: Yes.

Mommy: Then they have the same rules as other stickers then don't they?

Collin: Yes.

Mommy: What are the rules?

Collin: (mumbling) people and paper

Collin: Can I put them on the tree?

Mommy: People and paper. Don't make me say it again.

Collin is sleeping now, and it's been hours since this conversation. Clearly, I turned my back.

By the way, is anyone else totally excited for Christmas? I don't think I've ever been this excited for Christmas before! I think this is the first year I've felt this way. Collin will really understand it this year and we have presents that he'll actually really like not just throw aside. I feel like I picked things that he'll enjoy because I actually know my child as a person now, an individual, not just some blob of a kid. I'm so excited to see his thrill. This is what it's all about, isn't it?

Breeding Voilence

Call us bad parents. Go ahead. I dare you. I'll sick my kid on you! See, since my child fears nothing, Bryon has been after me to let him watch Star Wars. He figures that since he (Bryon) is a super geek and Collin is doomed to become a super geek as well, he's eager to bond with him over this experience. I say, "But the violence! But the monsters!" and other such murmurs about a child under 3 watching said movie. Anyway, I relented.

He looks afraid, doesn't he? He's not. He's freaking thrilled.

He spent the whole night afterward trying to identify bad vs. good guys, categorizing, if you will. And, I'm blogging on the couch right now as we watch part II, or part 78, whatever it is with the "new" ones added to the mix. I don't know. I can't actually say I care either. Why, might you ask, in a limited t.v. household are we watching so much t.v.? Uh, look at my child today. This is AFTER his nap that he took all of one hour after getting up this morning!

I think he's faking for the ice cream...which you'll note he's eating ON the couch! Yeah, when my baby's sick, he's one spoiled rotten kid.

What do you think?

Following In Daddy's Footsteps

Bryon leaves the office at five (ish)---can you tell this is a point of contention?--on Monday and Wednesday in order for me to be able to leave on time for class. As a side note, it takes him an hour to get home and it takes me an hour to get to the parking lot and and nearly twenty minutes to walk to my building. Isn't LA traffic grand? So when he leaves at that "ish" window instead of at five, therein lies the point of contention and why I was late last night because I took thirteen extra seconds to pee and because people with fake majors like theater decide to put on things like "plays" and close down the parking lots close to my building and make me have to park in the parking lot literally, and I'm not exaggerating here, a mile away from my class. But, I digress. Stupid theater majors and their dreams. They should study something real like literature. Wait, that's not tangible either? Wait, no one gets a real job in that other than teaching other people literature. Oh. I'll shut up then.

Anyway, on the nights I have class, it's a good thing because it's guaranteed that Daddy and Collin get to see one another for a bit, at least longer than story and tuck-in time. I was greeted halfway through class with an adorable text picture (love Blackberry!) of Collin "working" on the laptop, which Daddy has claimed (you can tell because of the CAC reader attached. For those of you who don't know what that is, it's the little card slot on the back that Bryon can insert his military ID into the back of so he can log into work from home; and CAC is a Common Access Card (but you actually say CAC like you would say "Cock" if you were from Boston--or, if you had a really bad fake Boston accent). I used to have one. I let Bryon keep his. Get it?

Bryon got a little crazy with the camera, a little Mommy-esque if you will, and took a handful of pictures of our little executive-officer-to-be, "working" away. I asked Bryon what he was actually doing on the computer and apparently it was nothing. It was the locked login screen that held him so captivated. Weird kid.

My favorite thing about Collin when he's concentrating is his complete lack of control over his tongue. I'm hoping he loses this trait with age or he's going to look like a total dork when he learns long division. I guess it could be worse; he could break down in snotty, racking sobs like his mother did when he learns that remainders don't just neatly disappear.

Yes, so while all these pictures look virtually identical to you, I see minute differences that make me love my little man all the more, and the big man who took the pictures. Oh, and as a side note, check out my Spode in the background! It's Christmas so it was time to break out the Christmas Tree pattern! It ain't just for eatin' folks. We are real classy folks here. We use it for decoratin' real nice. Thanks Granny! I think the Jack Skellington adds that special touch of je ne sais pas, don't you?

A Turning Point

In this post, something is about to be revealed that I thought I would probably not ever tell the whole world (eh, who am I kidding, all six of you that read this): my weight. To be fair, I'm packing what I call "marathon pounds." I usually put on about four or five pounds when I train for a lengthy race because my mileage increases and thus my muscles (damn heavy things) increase. And alas, they have.

Anyway without further ado, today was the point at which my 33-ish pound child overpowered his 108 pound mommy. Seriously. What the heck? Shouldn't that still be enough of a weight disparity that I should be able to kick his behind if need be? Not that I would, but if I should need to? I've actually not resorted to hitting the kid but it'd be nice to know I could, right? Kidding, of course. Don't let this innocent joy at seeing Jack this morning fool you, in his soul today lies evil.

The kid was attempting to break his record for "worst behavior ever" today and was doing a bang up job of it and I was attempting to break my record for "most time outs given in a single day," when he decided, "hey, if I physically resist her putting me in the chair, what's the worst that could happen?" Well, the worst that can happen is that an epic battle ensues. No kidding, the kid won. I could NOT get him in the dang chair. Hmmmm, what to do. Well, since it was a hurdle we had not crossed together at this point because though he be small, he be mighty and anyone with a toddler knows that a small and arching body is difficult if not impossible to tame into a position that you desire. This is what he looked like prior to arching earlier today, also being a crapper, refusing to smile for me; and, I should note, mixing the play-d'oh colors and making me nuts.

My solution to time out dilemma? Well, I shall not say it was a good one but it worked on the fly. I threw him in the dark garage (aka playroom) for twenty seconds and shut the door until he was shocked into submission and waddled to the chair on his own recognizance. I always spend hours feeling guilty about doing such cruel things like the garage right after I do it, thinking, "oh god, what was I thinking!" Then, he reminds me that he is completely unscathed. Ummm, my kid decided fifteen seconds into time out that the garage was a better option and began screaming for the "cool, fun and dark garage." See, not afraid of ANYTHING! Well, apparently except the time out chair. Maybe it's because while he's in it I poke him with electrodes and/or drip water on him slowly and methodically until he admits his role in various subversive plots. Things like this always make me wonder what it is I do that will actually scar him for life.

Anyway, now I'm sitting here not reading my paper for the last time before class tonight but instead going over strategies to regain control over my otherwise angelic child and telling the "world" about how I lost said control of him today. In other words, I'm procrastinating. Maybe that's why I'm doing so badly in this class.

What's funny about this whole thing is that he's been asleep and quiet now for about twenty minutes and I already miss him, despite his craptacular antics today. I'd take him, warts and all, every second of the day. I love my little man, even wrestling him into the time out chair.

What Mommy Is Thankful For

I'm thankful that Granny and Granddaddy came to visit for the holiday weekend and relieved me of "sticker-face" duty for a few days. I'm so glad I invested in that sticker book.

I'm thankful that Granny took up Peter Pan's first bow and arrow lesson, because surely, nothing bad can come of this.

I'm also thankful that I seem to have animals with the appropriate instincts. Well, at least one. Way to go Homer on the getting the heck out of dodge bit. Eddie, dude, LEAVE! P.S. no animals were harmed (okay, maybe scared...but not harmed).

I'm thankful that Bryon made the turkey. Yep, those are wire snips. Not pictured: welding gloves. Ahh the accoutrements of fine cuisine. I'm thankful that all my yummy side dishes filled me up quite nicely since I think turkey, prepared in any fashion, tastes like socks.

I'm thankful that we have a fake tree and that Bryon lets me put it up the instant Thanksgiving is over.

I'm thankful that no one batted an eye about letting my son gobble Christmas cookies while doing it. Hey! It's Christmas and I wanted them too!

I'm thankful that my son is now old enough to help with the decorating. I'm not so thankful that there is currently one branch on the tree with approximately sixty-three ornaments that he insists should go precisely, and ONLY, there.

I'm thankful that it's the last week in November and we can go for walks at the nature preserve on the shore with sweatshirts on...at dusk. And, I'm thankful my kid looks so freaking happy doing it.
I'm thankful that when you put a sweatshirt on said kid that fit him six minutes ago (okay maybe a month ago), the first thought you have is, "sob, my baby is growing up so fast," then you think, "crap, I need a new sweatshirt." When, if that same thing happened to me, I'd think, "F$@*, I'm never eating again!" Amazing, isn't it? I guess I should try to be thankful for perspective but he's supposed to be growing, right?

While we're on the subject of that walk, I'm thankful for this. The sun set. Bask, if you will.

I can't let the weekend go without saying I'm thankful for living so close to a place that's so rockin' fun for my family: Disneyland. Yeah, yeah we went again today. I'm thankful for being able to stand in front of the gigantic tree AGAIN this year, and take the same picture we took last year and look at how much baby changed. Of course, I can't show you last year's because I only paid for it and didn't use my camera too so you'll just have to take my word for it: he changed.

I'm thankful that I don't barf on the teacups. Collin had the BEST time I've EVER seen him have on them today. He was laughing so hard he was sliding around on his seat because he was having a hard time holding himself up between the centrifugal force and his giggles. What could be better than that? Well, it would be better of barf-a-lot-Daddy were in the cup with us. I admit, shamefully, I may have pushed a bit to get a blue cup this time. Too many times we get a pink cup! Shhh, don't tell.

And, I'm thankful that I only had to stand in line for twenty minutes to let Collin meet Santa there today. He's still pretty convinced that Jack Skellington is the dude bringing the loot on Christmas (for all of you that don't know, that's the creepy guy on our sweatshirts above). Yeah, we've pretty much screwed up our kid...and I'm a little thankful for that too: who wants normal?

Busy, Busy and FUN Weekend!

'Tis the season right? That means 'tis the season for visits from what I shall call "make Mama chopped liver makers," otherwise known as grandparents. Collin loves when his grandparents come to see him because, heck, they are lots of fun. They allow him to do things like, perform imaginary surgery that involves balloon i.v. insertion. Weird. You might say that Collin has developed his imagination. This was his actual description of what he was doing. Not mine.

Grandparents also (well Gramps anyway) insist on train museums. Yes, train museums. Mommy was enthralled, entranced and thrilled.

Can you sense the sarcasm? Kidding. It was fun. Collin loved it. I'm not sure if you can tell. He's good at hiding his enthusiasm.
Grandparents also do things that we do not encourage, like teach him improper chair egress procedures. Hey, whatever. He didn't die and he hasn't tried it since.
We went to the beach and saw a dead seal washed ashore. Collin and I thought it was pretty cool. It is, isn't it? Oh, quit complaining, you can't even see it. Let alone smell it. I decided not to put up the cool pictures that included it, despite the prettiness of the background. You're welcome.

Gramps found the only cool shell worth taking home. Maybe it's because we were lounging and just basking in the view.

To be fair, Collin didn't "bask." He played. He thought most of the pebbles needed to be washed int he tiny puddles that were created in the larger rocks by the waves splashing atop them. It's a big job to wash ALL the pebbles on the beach. He was pretty busy.

Can it get more beautiful here? I'm pretty sure it can't. I think that they made this place just for Collin because he looks pretty awesome here, doesn't he? Cutest kid on the planet combined with the crashing waves. They just suit one another. I'm not biased or anything. Not at all. And, I'm not planning on moving. Ever. The people that they plan to give my house to when we get orders had better learn to like us because I'm not leaving.

Okay, so train museum, surgery, and beach. What next? Why not go to the zoo? Okay. Sounds like fun. We're like energizer bunnies. We can handle it. It was super fun. Collin saw a mandril and heard it make a crazy loud sound and he's not stopped talking about it since.

Alas, all this activity during Gramps' and Nana's visit wasn't enough for Bryon and I. We decided that after they left on Sunday morning, we'd take him to Disneyland for the afternoon. Yeah, we're nuts. But, it's Christmastime there now and I love the haunted mansion all decked out for Nightmare Before Christmas with Jack Skellington. Hmmm, I wonder where my kid gets his love for Jack. Anyway, have you ever seen a kid fall asleep on the way TO Disneyland?

Disneyland was PACKED! On a Sunday afternoon, we weren't really expecting that. Well, I guess it gets busier and busier the closer to the holidays you get. It was fun anyway. That's the beauty of the season pass. It's not disappointing to only do a few things and go home. I managed to sneak in a little holiday shopping for the little man, buying him a few treasures from Jack Skellington's little shop. That kid is crazy about that dude. I love having the kid who claps and screams, "I love Jack!" when we're in the mansion when there's always at least one kid who screams in terror next to us. Disneyland rocks. Even being in line is fun with our crazy kid, who now officially thinks Daddy is a weirdo. It was only a matter of time, of course. I wanted Daddy to take a picture of my boy and I in front of "Jack's" house this time. Can you tell how much Collin cooperated? Collin thought his lack of cooperation was hysterical. Anyway, that's our busy weekend. We're all ready to take a nap now, I think. Wait, no time! Time to prepare for Thanksgiving! Granny gets here this afternoon! We can't wait!

Crazy Collin

As some of you know, I went sky diving over the weekend. It was pretty awesome. I survived because my tandem instructor pulled the parachute after I managed to forget. Thanks Stu. Love ya, man. Anyway, Daddy was in charge of Collin so he figured why not let him be his own daredevil. Yep, that's my child with a bag on his head, walking directly into the kitchen table. I came home from falling 2,000 feet from the sky with nary a scratch on my body and my son was injured from a walk across the room. Nice one. Okay, it was only a tiny scratch, but still, the point stands. And, after seeing my video, which no one shall ever see because I look just that ugly, Collin has decided he wants to do it too. Maybe his bravery and induction into all things tomfoolery is influenced by his new favorite reading material: Calvin and Hobbes.

Homer, true to his nature, takes all Collin craziness in stride. I had to put this picture up for two reasons: one, I love my cat and he looks awfully cute sitting there; two, it precedes the picture to follow.
Nothing says "I love you" like a be-bucket-headed child "hugging" a cat. Homer looks pleased, no? Yeah, he wasn't. He departed his oh-so-comfortable perch on the beanbag chair mere seconds after this was taken. Trying to teach a loving child that cats don't like hugs as much as people do is a tough lesson.

Needless to say, bucket-hat lasted almost all night...even though bathroom visits. Not sure if he was proud of the poo or just happy to be there. We can discuss why I had the camera in the bathroom at a later time. Let's just focus on the lack of unmentionables visible in this photo and the cuteness of his smile.