Random Love Bursts

Collin wakes up pissed off in the morning. Why? I'm not sure. I wake up pissed off in the morning too. It takes me a good ten minutes to get my self in a groovy mood. It takes Collin about twenty minutes and between the two of us, there's a lot of whining and a lot of the following phrase: stop whining or....(fill in the blank with threat that you don't want to read if you love Collin). It's probably one of the many, many, MANY ways my son has decided to take after me. On the other hand, when he wakes up from nap, he's a pocket full of sunshine. See?

Next random bit of love for my boy: haircut. Ever since his first "experience," he's been begging for another one. It broke my heart to do it, but whenever it seems reasonable, I can't help but indulge my kid (see adorable face above). What resulted was a reasonably acceptable haircut--until I was cleaning up his neck and he thought: "Hey! I better suddenly jolt my head around 180 degrees and look outside at NOTHING!" Yep, I bumped his little neck about ninety inches too high with the clippers and so, I had to even it out, and now, he looks like this. Awful.
At least the damage that I do to him is in the back and no one notices it immediately. Look what Daddy did to his face last weekend. This is days, days, DAYS old! Serious scabs. He looks awful. Of course, this is his first pretty good scab so he's constantly picking it and it's constantly bleeding and pussing all over it. It's gross. And, he looks abused. It's pretty great. I love him desperately and want to punch Daddy for allowing him to be fall on his face so hard.

In another bit 'o love, my boy has taken to pouring his heart out to me during our car rides to and from school, or any other car ride longer than ten minutes. I will get random tid bits about school, friends, etc. Today, he told me that he dislikes "Melissa," because she says, "eh, eh eh" to him and "you can't come in the play house" during recess. Bitch. Wait, is that wrong to say about someone under five? Don't care. This boy is welcome in ANY playhouse, ANYtime, ANYwhere, Melissa! (note: no clue who you are, Melissa and I'm sure you are lovely...I just like my kid better) And what is the "eh, eh, eh" part?

And, the piece de resistance...our first field trip is tomorrow! To say that the boy is excited would be like saying you should think twice about eating that thing in the back of the fridge that has hair on it. Understatement, get it? He gets to ride a bus! A buuuuusss! And, his mommy gets to go with him. The zoo, the bus, his mommy. I'm surprised he's asleep.

Ho Hum, Another Beautiful Day

To prepare my brave child for the sure-to-be presence of the Jabberwocky, who would certainly be in 3D in the new Alice in Wonderland movie, we went to the library last weekend and asked for kids versions of the story and whatever movies they might have, since we don't have the Disney version. Have I ever gotten on my soap box about that damn Disney Vault before? Stupid vault. Capitalism at it's finest.

Anyway, after he got a good glimpse at the Jabberwocky on film, he decided he didn't want any part of the dude in 3D. This was disappointing, to say the least, since he's been pleading to see the movie for the past two months. Apparently, the forty billion times I've read him the real Lewis Carroll poem didn't quite get the message across. Maybe it was the mome raths outgrabe that were confusing to him. This left us with a clear schedule for the afternoon, which we'd intended to spend in line with the other folks, glasses in hand. Damn. Really wanted to see that.

What to do? What to do? Well, guess we'll go for a hike in the gorgeous California weather.

There's not much cuter than a total boy romping through the poppies shrieking "poppies! poppies! sleeep! sleeeeeeep!" like the wicked witch of the west.

Oh wait, maybe there is: a total boy daintily smelling flowers and then declaring, "this is where the fairies live!"

He stops being cute when you realize that you haven't seen his water bottle in thirty minutes and you have to backtrack.

He tends to quickly make up for his annoying habits (like losing his water bottle) by doing things like insisting on us both wearing our hoods so we can both be "bad guys" and immediately begin fighting one another while we walk.

Or, he stops at the signs and points at a picture of the beach and says, "we don't get to go here today because I was a poor listener this morning," and then makes a little pouty face. Yeah, way to pull at the heartstrings, buddy.

In case you were wondering, Dave, of Alvin and the Chipmunks fame, lives in an abandoned missile storage bunker at White Point nature preserve. See, Collin is showing you.

Bryon, this picture is for you. Why? Because I noticed as I uploaded all these shots (all 142 of them that you took), that you took no less than 28 pictures of my ass. Why? Um, there are probably a few reasons. It could be that you think my butt is particularly appealing. It could be that you hope that I put a picture of my own butt on this little site here as revenge for something I did to you the other day, perhaps relating to your behind. The silly thing is, that would be nonsense. It's my blog, right? Well, ain't I sweet to you. Here everyone, here's my butt. Even.

And, here is, what according to Collin, we bought the china cabinet for. He's convinced that the only reason we need it is that we need a place to store and display the Tinkerbell he painted. Don't adjust your monitors. She does, indeed, look like she's on a bad acid trip. Oh, and she was also one of the most expensive things in the paint-your-own pottery place to paint. Nothing like offering your kid a robot, a dragon, a car, whatever, and having him insist on the $30 Tinkerbell.

How I know I Married A Good Man

While he man not show enthusiasm at being a guinea pig...

Or, enthusiasm at not looking like crap afterward, he did admit that from now on, I do get to cut his hair because, quote, "you didn't do a crappy job."

He did put a coat on the kid and we went...out...to...Ethan Allen...to buy...A CHINA CABINET!!!

Now, to wait six weeks for it be delivered. Oh, what a guy! And, to top it off, he vacuumed up his own hair mess. See, that's his butt with the vacuum. Oh, had to honey. Had to. Have blog--must make fun of family. Want revenge? Get your own blog.

And, on a side note, when you take a picture with a moving camera, even cute children look like the possessed demons you see on a freaky horror movie, don't they? Weeeirrrd.

We Did It!

So, Bryon and I forgot that we had, hoarded away in a drawer, gobs and gobs of Amazon money. Yes, gobs! Well, I consider gobs enough to literally pay for this! All those trips to Coinstar have been worth it. Hooray! Maybe Collin is on to something with his love of spare change?
So, the hemming and hawing about whether or not to buy Collin that super nice birthday present that I wanted to buy? Hemmed and hawed no more. It was really me anyway saying, "Please! Please! I wanna! I wanna!" And Bryon saying, "Let's deliberate." He's not scroogey, he's sensible. Thank goodness for that. It keeps us on a sane level and so long as one of us isn't running out with the credit card, the other of us is suddenly remembering that pile of Amazon gift numbers in the desk drawer that we've forgotten about for months that we could finally use for something. Oh yeah! Now we don't have to dent the wallet.

Shhh, don't tell my boy. I'll try to keep the secret for the next 24 days! What a freaking amazing birthday present! I'm so excited! The sad part is that I think he'll be more thrilled for the Star Wars cake I plan to order for him. And, he'll be bummed that he's not getting a party with a bouncy house or going to Chuck's house or something like that. But, dude you are getting a car. Deal.

Now, just to hope that it arrives on a Wednesday...the only day that I'm home and he's not so that he doesn't see the clearly marked and gigantic box, so that I can hide it from him, somehow; maybe in the east wing of our mansion. Jeesh. Where am I going to hide this thing?

Amusing Torture Backfire

Collin has an (annoying) habit of reaching into our pantry and pulling out (non-food, such as baking soda or measuring cups) items (all the time) and requesting a snack. So, today when he pulled out Bryon's can of Hot Wasabi peas, I thought, sure have at it, kid. Only, if I can get the camera first.

This shot is pure luck. This is the natural expression his little face made in the midst of the word, "wasabi." He was not disgusted. He was not alarmed at the flavor. He simply said, "Mommy, hold these," and handed me the can, looked left and right and then, "Where's my water, I want more!"

Then, he proceeded to chow down. I was thwarted. So, he'll eat wasabi peas but he picks off minuscule bits of chopped parsley off of pasta. And he'll eat curry or any other number of "weird" dishes we make but he picked off the brown spots on the bottom of his fresh baked bread today. Kids are weird. And mom, dad, I can hear you from here echoing: those black spots on hot dogs are really ketchup baked in--stop picking them off, Rachel! Stop!

See this...

This is Karma Kat Homer. He is my punishment for trying to take pleasure in the potential mouth pain of my child. Ten minutes after Wasabi snack, we went to the store to pick up black-be-spotted bread for dinner. Upon return, I discovered that my cat, who has no such pickiness in food or drink habits, felt that my cranberry juice, left upon the counter, was just calling his name. If you've ever seen a cat try to drink out of a glass, it's cute. If you've ever seen a cat try to drink out of a mostly empty glass, it's also usually a recipe for disaster. They typically put their paw all the way to the bottom and drag drops up to their mouth, knocking the glass over. Yeah, half a glass of cranberry juice spilled all over my kitchen floor, into my mixer, my coffee maker, behind the butcher block, into the electrical outlet. Oh, and he broke the glass. Thanks Homer. You suck. Bryon kind of hates you because you consistently cost us lots of money every time you choose to eat something small and get it lodged in your intestinal track. Me, I love you. But stop testing me.

Things I Have Learned By Attending Grad School

It may be possible that this is specific to attending a school in California, but who knows? CSULB is a HUUUUUUGE school and my walk to class is over a mile. Thus, I have a lot of people watching to do. I do lots of observing...and being mean.

--if you are old enough to attend college, you are too old to be wearing Twilight T-shirts.

--if you are wearing the exact same clothes as the girl next to you, get a new friend...even if it's in a different color. Really. It's NOT a coincidence that like, oh my total god you were on like the same brainwave this morning! You are clones. Don't laugh. Scream. Scream and run.

--if you are annoyed that the "old" people (and there's a lot of us) in class speak or ask questions, you are a tool. You are only excused from this if they are asking a question that is spelled out, in black and white, on the syllabus and they are asking for the third time.

--if you are wearing a winter coat with a fur hood and it's 70 degrees and the person you are walking with is wearing shorts and flip flops, there's something wrong with one or both of you. I'm concerned about the value of your higher education if you cannot dress yourselves.

--if you sit through an entire class using your laptop to chat with someone on a sports site about trades and who knows what, you are probably wasting a lot of someone's money. Can I call them and ask them to pay for my next class? I'll get a lot more value out of their dollar for them.

--if, as an adult, you can't stay awake in a class that meets at NOON, there may be something wrong with you. Really. Or, try gee, I don't know, coffee.

--just because it's warm enough to wear a bathing suit, doesn't mean you should wear it to school.

--bras are not always optional. I'm talking to you DD with skinny strapped tank top. It's never optional for you. Never.

--the elevator is not a convenience, apparently it's just for lazy people. When you are parked on the roof, sure, take the elevator. If you are on crutches, sure, take the elevator. If you are sick, maimed, whatever. If you have had a bad day, whatever. If you are lazy, dude, come on. You are slowing it down for the rest of us, parked on the damn roof. Taking the elevator to level 2 is a bit absurd, don't you think? I see a Rascal scooter and one of those stair lifts in your future.

--which brings me to...my favorite...if you are wearing a mini skirt, hot pink fishnets and thigh high boots, it's best not to in the first place, but I digress. If you choose to, and the poor salesgirl had to special order a size for you because heck, the store just didn't have them that big, take the damn stairs.

News Fit for Monday

Bryon's TDY for the first time in months.




Yep. That's my man. What a guy. I'll keep him.


And, not only because before he left last night he sat at the very table that those roses are on and helped me balance the checkbook, something I was responsible for up to a few months ago but was relieved of after countless mistakes of thousands of dollars. Seriously. Still, I sit next to him and go "oooh! and aaaah!" Anyway, he sat there and after he finished said these words, "You know, we have been so amazingly frugal with this preschool thing, I think that next month, we can afford the down payment on (wait for it...wait...wait...wait) your china cabinet, if you want." If I want!


We'll see. I'm debating. Right. No, seriously. I'm debating. I really want to get Collin a nice, nice present for his birthday and that might bump the cabinet into another month. Yep, another sacrifice for the boy. I'm a damn sacrificing Mommy, huh? Anyway, apparently, we cut every darn thing out of our budget, and I didn't realize it. Yeah, in the last three months the frivolous expenditures consisted of one purse that we used an almost expired gift card and a coupon for. So, boy-oh, you were worth it and the china cabinet I thought I'd never see, oh, there you are, in the distance! Hooray!

In the end, I am glad I learned restraint and last night when we were brushing our teeth I told Bryon I learned how to prioritize what I want to buy in the future instead of willy-nilly buying anything we want. In other words, I only want expensive things :)