Just in case you needed to know, I’ve taken six thousand two hundred and thirteen photos.  Since the beginning of April.  This year.  That’s all.

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So, for those of you who don’t know me in person, my hair is really long.  Like really long.  About a year ago, I decided I’d grow it out a bit more and then cut off 10-12 inches for Locks of Love.  I have been needing to just go do it for several months now.  Anyway, Caleb has commented on several ocassions that my hair is very long.  I explained to him that I was going to give it to little boys and girls who are very sick.  I told him I planned to cut off a lot of it at one time so that they could use the hair to make wig.  And that some boys and girls are very very sick and they have to take medicine that makes their hair fall out.  So they will be able to use Mommy’s hair.  I explained in the most simplistic and thorough way I could think of.  He mentions it from time to time.  But today at the table, he was saying something that I couldn’t quite make out.  After several repetitions, I surmised the he was saying something along the lines of…”They are sick, so their penis might fall off.  And I could give dem my penis!”  Where in the world does he come up with this stuff?!  I assured him that nothing short of Lorena Bobbitt would make your penis fall off.  Okay okay, I left out the Lorena part.  I’m sure his future prom date will enjoy stories such as this.  I may even just make a book of my blog as a wedding present for a future wife one day.

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Where I start contemplating the Halloween costume three months in advance. Halloweens past have always been animals. And I’ve found two cute dog costumes to go along with the theme. I asked Caleb, and he just wants to be a chicken again, because last Halloween was the first year he ‘got it,’ and he can’t get the chicken costume = candy out of his head.

But I also found this, and I absolutely love the duster jacket. He would be minus the bullet belt, as we don’t do guns here. Even toy ones. As of yet, not even water guns.

And while browsing, I found this. Which is wrong on way more than one level. Wow. Um, yeah. I’ll leave it at that.

Is anyone now humming “Oops I did it again” in their head?

Is there not ANY other way they could have posed that dog other than doggy sty…nevermind.

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Some unnamed child is suddenly refusing to go to the potty most of the time.  We’ve had a couple quote unquote accidents today.  I say it like that because there’s no cleanup other than a change of clothes, so I haven’t complained too much, but it is a little frustrating after no accidents and no diapers in a few weeks.    If I’m very attentive, I can catch the -I need to go- signals.  I ask him and he yells no.  If I’m seeing the signals bigtime, I make him go anyhow.  And let me tell you, I’ve drug him kicking and screaming today.  He gets mad and stomps up on the stool, cutting me the evil eye (pictured yesterday, 4th down).  I just try to keep a very flat tone in my voice, matter of fact if you will.  I really wanna say, just get up there and stop being a little shit about it.  But alas, I just bribe.  With M&Ms.  Yep.  I told him no more M&Ms if I have to drag him to the throne, but if he tells me he needs to go, he gets them.  He flew through his second potty chart in four days last week, so I never printed up another one.  I decided we’d bring that back (we’ve now gone exactly a week without it), and see if the extra motivation helped.  If I have to drag him, he still gets the positive reinforcement of a sticker when he goes, but no M&Ms.  And believe me, the M&Ms are way more important to him!  He comes from a long line of sweet tooths.  I explained my strategy no less than four times to make sure we were clear on what equaled M&Ms and what didn’t, so we’ll see.

I’ve been cleaning and straightening up like crazy, as my mother will visiting tomorrow.   And this weekend.  I must say, her impending visit has done wonders for the house.  I cleared off one counter that has continuously been piled with stuff since the day we moved in.  The kitchen looks bigger and brighter now!  I was shocked at the difference.  I still have a good bit left on my to do list though.

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…that beyond a shadow of a doubt, you have indeed moved to a small town. Some things, you just know.

I had to take out the city name of course, since I’m putting this on the big old scary internet.  And also, I took it with my cell phone.  I thought it might look a bit weird if an officer was looking out the window, and I was standing there taking pictures of their, um, squad cars.  One more thing, all that brick over there behind him?  Yeah that’s the tobacco company.  The smell of fresh ‘backer almost knocked me down when I got out of the car.  And no I wasn’t going in the police station, they just happen to share the parking lot with the library.  And city hall.  And maybe a few people that make the cancer sticks across the street.

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1. Have sweet and adorable mother cat.

2. Said cat had six babies that look just like her.

3. Awe look how cute and cuddly the are!

4. Said kittens get big enough to escape from their safe haven birthing center (the gigantic rubbermaid)

5. And commence using our screened in porch as a toilet

6. Once the porch, you know that outdoor playroom I looked forward to moving here, has been shat upon, oh about two hundred and seventy six times, but really who’s counting…

7. The mommy goes to the store for bleach, lysol, a deck scrubber, lysol, gloves, and…lysol to bomb the porch and its entire contents.

On the plus side, Caleb’s Step 2 sandbox is gleaming.

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From left to right: Jif - the peanut butter we are trying to get rid of.  Phase out if you will.  Smucker’s Creamy - The natural yet not so smooth peanut butter that Caleb complains “has peanuts in it.”  Let me explain.  I have been on a crunchy peanut butter kick, so I get myself crunchy.  Caleb came up when I was making sandwiches one day and commented that he didn’t want the crunchy peanut butter.   I explained that I wasn’t planning to make his with crunchy peanut butter because it had pieces of peanuts in it.  I told him I liked the crunchy pieces.  So this came back to bite me in the ass when I tried to switch to natural peanut butter.  If you’ve ever had the Smuckers creamy, it isn’t completely smooth (ie Jif), so he assumed this was crunchy.  Thus began his campaign of “I want peanut butter without peanuts in it.”  Have I mentioned toddlers will argue with a tree stump, all while becoming just as rooted in place on their opinion as the tree stump is on its?  So moving along, next we have Kroger brand natural creamy peanut butter.  The nearest Kroger is 30, yes 30 miles away.  Luckily my mom has Krogers where she lives, and this is her favorite peanut butter, so she sent me two jars by way of the visiting ‘papa’ last night (my dad).  Just so you know, it passed the -world’s pickiest eater peanut butter with no peanuts- test.  And last but no least, we have the infamous Smuckers Chunky from which all my problems originated.  Just call us the peanut butter connoisseur.

This concludes your useless information for the day.  Stay tuned tomorrow: underwater basket weaving.

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Who tossed some underwear in the dirty clothes last night? Dry undies, just going in the dirty clothes! We did have one accident today, but also got 4 stickers!! Two huge millstones though. #1 he started telling me when he needed to go. #2 had to do with the placement of uhm, #2. So that was great. I was a little worried that would be another hurdle. I must say though, the M&Ms were in his bloodstream through the whole evening. He was been a live wire, running a million miles an hour everywhere. When he finally got in bed, he laid there giggling and making jokes.

I am thinking of making some “monster be-gone spray” with water and one of the calming essential oils. I’m not a huge fan of lavender. He says he is scared of the dark though and he talks about monsters. He absolutely will not go in a dark room alone. He sat up in bed last night before falling asleep (I stay in there with him for a while) and said “Mom are you totally sure there aren’t any monsters in here?” In this voice that suggested I might be fibbing. I told him that I was sure and that mommy and daddy were right here and he was completely safe. He replied “Well Daddy is in there watching TV all day.” It was a while before we were done giggling over that one.

He exhausted me today though. This is terrible but MAN this kid can talk when there’s no TV! We’ve been hanging out in the bedroom near the bathroom and he chatted my ear off today. The entire day. I was thumbing through a few activity books Scott picked up from the library for me. It was kind of like camping, only with indoor plumbing, central air and less bugs.

(Still looking rather empty here. The bookcase is waiting on my to unpack the last of the boxes containing all of my books. Alas, I’m too lazy.)

1. Our pile of reading material (well part of it)

2. Sippy cup of water

3. Bag of M&M’s and sheets of stickers up high so he doesn’t decide to ‘help’ himself along his chart without my knowledge ;)

4. Potty chart, we have officially rounded turn one since this picture was taken yesterday

5. The Holy Grail of themed activities for young children (better known as Creative Resources for the Early Childhood Classroom)

6. Our picnic table. Where we sit on the floor half naked and eat muffins. Well him, not me.

7. I told you our bathroom is 1X1.  I would like to redo the floor, I wonder if I can buy peel and stick tiles individually, seeing as I only need about seven.  Hmmm.

8. Another cup of drink. But we’re not pushing the liquids. Nah.

We have been able to venture away from the bedroom today, and even left the house to pay the water bill! Baby steps, baby steps. I think I’m through the worst of it though. It ‘clicked’ yesterday I think.

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I got Caleb a little soft baseball bat and ball the other day. Something that can be used inside or out. He’s shown an interest in baseball, so maybe we’ll check into T-ball next year. Anyway, he manages to get a few hits in. He decided he wanted to pitch and he threw a fast curve ball at me from about four feet away. No chance I was hitting that, so I told him to throw “underhanded.” Have you ever tried to describe this motion? It is rather difficult. I kept demonstrating by just waving my arm back and forth, but my words were floundering. He watched, thought about it for a second, then held one harm out in front of him and threw the ball at me with the other hand. Under his outstretched hand. Under-hand-ed.

Today we were walking around K-mart (I have a sad life now with no Target, it feels so ghetto to wander around Walmart and Kmart, it just isn’t the same). We rarely venture out of the toy and kid clothes section. This is the kind of K-mart that has been open for years and years. The one white floors are now gray with chipped tiles and the whole place feels dirty. The parking lot is full of -bottom your car out- potholes. I need a tetanus shot just from looking at the little merry-go-round and Ramone looking car ride-ons (the ones you put a quarter in). BUT, I will say, I’m addicted to their clothes section for kids! I have found so many cute shirts in there! Cheap, cheap, cheap too! His 4th of July shirt came from there (I didn’t want anything that was for the 4th, just something with the right colors, so I didn’t feel silly putting him in it after the 4th). And this one, same shirt, different colors. They are TWO DOLLARS. I heart a bargain!

Anyway, as I head back toward the actual point of my story…
We were heading towards the kid’s clothing section when we passed the…er..lingerie section. Caleb paused to examine a Joe Boxer flopper stopper, as my dad used to call them. It was a padded one, bright yellow with a big, old smiley face for each “girl.” Apparently those are for pre-pregnancy perky boobs, right? They even smile at you. And trust me, there is nothing smiley about them post pregnancy and breastfeeding. Anyway, he reached out with both hands and squeezed (honk honk!) and said “Do deez go on your boobies Mommy?”

“Aaah, yes, yes they do.”

“Wish we could get me dis.”

“But you don’t need that, that is for girls.”

“I don’t have any boobs Mommy. But I have some at home!”

“Not that I’m aware of. Unfortunately, girls have to take them everywhere we go.” And just think how much more pleasant jogging would be if you didn’t. Just let that marinate for a minute. Is anyone else thinking about Wanda Sykes stand up? If not, then I won’t go there, totally inappropriate language, even for me. ;)

If you don’t know what I’m talking about and are just really, really curious AND won’t be offended, you can click here. Click with caution, language ahead.

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I may have mentioned here and there that I find toilet humor funny. Probably more so than most people. Some people say it is inappropriate. I say lighten up, you fart just like the rest of us! I mean, I’ll go ahead and admit I laughed until I cried this morning when my toddler leaned waaay over to one side and pooted right in my husband’s face (no wait I’m not supposed to share that. It never happened. Pretend you never read that) during the toilet scene in Dumb and Dumber.

I must say though, my child is is perhaps the most polite and intelectual pooter I have ever met.

“Mommy I pooted two times, no three times. Scuse me!”

He actually has the presence of mind to count the number of times and is always sure to excuse himself immediatley after giving you his grand total. Makes a mother proud.

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