Little Girls

My son has turned 5. We held him back from going to kindergarten this year as we didn't want him to always be the littlest, the youngest, the kid who's always trying to catch up with the big boys. We wanted him to be one of the big boys. So, consequently, he is now the big boy in my class. Not the awkward kid, just the oldest in the class. I assume that when he gets to kindergarten he will not be the only older boy in class. I'm counting on it.

Anyway, my kid is sweet and cute and everyone loves him. He takes after his Daddy that way. And in my class I have 11 girls and 6 boys. (The drama from that alone is a completely different blog post.) The girls absolutely LOVE my son. While I think it's cute, I am also starting to see a glimpse of the future and my heart breaks for him as I know these girls will become women and they will break his heart, over and over again. But also, mamma bear wants to growl, "Hey! He's mine and you keep your grubby little hands off! He can date when he's 30!" Colin just thinks they're all great and wants to have a good day and keep everyone happy and enjoy his friends - again, he's a lot like his Daddy that way. What Colin hasn't learned yet is that you cannot please everyone and you sure as hell can't please a bunch of women.

Regardless, there are now five little girls who battle for his attention and his affection. Watching Colin juggle them is really something. Someone is always upset with him because Colin isn't playing with them. They are fighting amongst themselves about who is going to marry him (not kidding) and they are pouting and pulling stunts to try to make Colin feel bad or guilty and give one person complete attention. I often feel sorry for him and want to jump in and tell them to leave him alone but so far, he's oblivious to their shenanigans and if one won't play with him, he doesn't care, he'll play with someone who will, including the boys in my class. Whew!

So yesterday morning on the playground, the girls arrive one by one. I try to greet every child and comment on their hair or their dress or ask about their lives in some way. Well one of the girls came dressed in a really cute outfit and I made a comment. Colin happened to be standing with me. He hears me. Then one of the other girls wanted to know if I like her outfit. While I did, it wasn't necessarily worth commenting on. It was just a dress. Colin had the same opinion cuz he started to say "not as much." I interrupted him with a loud, "Of course. Your dress is beautiful too." The first little girl turned and gave me the stink eye." You can't win. Case in point.

But I whispered to my son, "You tell all the girls they look beautiful. Because if you just tell one and not the others, then they're going to be upset with you and your life will be so much easier if you just tell them they all look pretty." He just let that sink in. He didn't really respond. Colin is like me in that he says what he's thinking. He's like his Daddy in that he doesn't ever want to hurt anyone's feelings (tough mental exercise involved right there and this instruction just made it harder.) I know what he was thinking. He's thinking, "I'm supposed to lie?! This will make girls happy?!"

Yep and nope. Welcome to the world of little girls. Beautiful, sweet, manipulative, pouting, crying, dramatic, delightful, angry, yummy little girls. .....Thank God I have a boy.

TV's Weight Problem

This is a short history of the televisions in our family... suffer through because there's a gem at the end worth waiting for.

When I met JD about 10 years ago, I had a 13" tv with built in VCR that I watched occasionally.

JD had this really heavy 32" Sony that he brought with him to Albuquerque from Nashville.

Then as a single guy he purchased a really cool old Ford Bronco, a Harley, a great stereo system and speakers, and a 60" BIG screen TV, not necessarily in that order. I believe the TV was first. He then put the 32" in his bedroom.

Then we moved to Vegas, got married and we now had three TV's. We kept the little 13" and put it in our bedroom, put the 32" downstairs in the family room and put the 60" upstairs in the bonus room that turned out to be a very cool hang to watch TV. Then we purchased a 26" DVD/VCR combo for the "workout" room.

Then we moved to Dallas. Well once you've taken a 60" rear projection up some stairs as we did in Vegas, you're content to sell it with the house instead of moving it. (another blog that I'll post. Very funny story). So we left it and sold the the 13" and the 32" in a garage sale, we moved with the 26" with the intention to buy a screen and projector.

In Dallas we have more than enough room in our huge house for our little 26" and more. The people we bought the house from had a 60" big screen up stairs that they weren't going to move either so they threw it in with the house too. JD purchases the ever wanted 106" screen with the HD projector to go in the media room - "the cave" we called it. Now peeps, this was the coolest setup theater room I've ever seen. We moved their old 60" into our new workout room, put the 26" downstairs in the family room so you could watch something downstairs without having to go upstairs and fire up the projector and by then we had Colin so he was watching Little Einstein videos and the Wiggles downstairs all the time.

Then we moved to CA. We downsized EVERYTHING! No more projector, no more workout room, so we sold the projector and screen and moved only with the 26" TV. My husband had full intention of buying a plasma TV upon arrival. Well the little house God provided us to live in would only allow room enough for a 52" and JD had to settle. A year later we move to the house we're in now. The first thing JD says when we get here is that our TV is too small. I put my foot down and said, "Suck it up. We're not buying another one." And the way our room is configured, the TV is a little small for the room, but he's dealing with it.

So, yesterday, Colin is watching movies on the "big" TV instead of his tv (the 26" in his playroom). And if you're going to watch a movie you should watch it on the plasma with the very cool speakers. He happens to be lying on the floor in front of the TV, playing with cars at the same time. Eventually, he moves back to the couch with his blanket to snuggle in for the rest of the movie.

He tells me, "Mommy, the TV's lost weight."

"What?"

"The TV's lost weight. Up there it was big, but here it's smaller."

Great! Just what JD needs; our son to validate his need to buy a bigger TV.

And I wonder if there's a direct correlation to the size of your TV and the size of your butt.....hmmmm. If so, mine used to be a tight little 13". ...Key phrase: used to.

Admiration

This is Dayne. Dayne is almost 14. He babysat Colin, with the help from his parents, as I ran an errand. I couldn't get Colin to get in the car, he had so much fun. Dayne is one of the greatest kids I've ever met. Colin is in good company and has a good example. I'm so very grateful that he has such a person to learn from. 

Cozy

Tumbleweed, my big, fluffy, 14-year-old cat, is no longer spry and tumbley. Instead he's calm, lazy, and low-key. Yesterday we woke up to a wonderful, rare rain storm. Tweeders just wanted a warm, quiet place to sleep. He was a little irritated with me that I disrupted him to get his picture. 

I'm Dizzy!

May 10, 2007

June 3, 2009

When did this happen!? Did someone push the fast as you can go button cuz I don't remember my little boy growing up so fast. 

A Punish

Colin and I were driving home from a little shopping excursion after church on Sunday. While on this excursion, he ate an entire apple, many many gold fish, and some gum I think. By the time we were almost home, I was really hungry and I figured Colin was a little hungry but not starved due to the snackage he had consumed. 

As I've mentioned, there's a McDonald's on the way home. We pass by. I had no intention of stopping. We're past the entrance. We turn onto the next street and the following conversation takes place: 

Colin: Mom, can we go to McDonald's? 

Me: No. We've already passed it. I want to go home. 

Colin: You could turn around. 

Me: Not today Buddy. 

pause pause

Colin: How about this for a punish? If you don't turn around and go back to McDonald's you can't have lunch ever again!

We did not turn around. I did have lunch. Colin ate at home. How about this for a punish, indeed.

A Husband Day

Yesterday I had the rare privilege to spend an entire day with my husband without our child. Don't get me wrong, you know I love me some Colin BUT I do so love my husband with all my heart and rarely get him all to myself. 

Ms Tina, my teacher's assistant, has taken the summer off to go home and live with her parents, save some money, come back in the fall for school and work with me. But she came back Thursday for our Pre-K Completion Celebration. She agreed to stay over until Saturday and keep Colin for us (free of charge) all day and night yesterday, subbed for me at work so I could have a day and night with JD. Bless you Tina. 

We had such a good time. I introduced JD to a pedicure - of which he needed desperately and he introduced me to Happy Feet (a foot reflexology place), we grocery shopped, we washed the car, we went to lunch, we went to a movie, we shopped The Grove, we sat in a friends' hot tub that were out of town, we made dinner, etc. etc. etc. :) and we had a fantastic wonderful day. 

So all you wives, I highly recommend it, go have a Husband Day. 

Thank you Husband - it was the best!

From the Jungle to the Ocean

Turned the Jungle into the Ocean. See the bottom of the boat? It's on the ceiling. See my fishing basket? Yea, it worked. Let the commotion in the ocean begin. I'll let you know how the kids like it. 

It Etwa

For my birthday I went to get a pedicure. I  was in dire need of my pedis being cured. BAD shape. The last one had been November. So, I believe that at least once a year, every woman and man should get a pedicure. But in CA where flip flops are worn year-round, you need at least two, if not one a month. 

So I go with my dear friend Andi who is treating me to a Celestina Day. She needs a pedi too. We sit. She gets her girl and I get Nicole. I type the following story with much endearment, for she won me over. Typing her accent will be a bit of a challenge but you'll get the idea if you'll just read it aloud with perfect phonetics. 

Now, you know how it is, they begin with mostly hand motions. They being the Vietnamese ladies and men who tend to be in a nail salon. They motion you to sit in a chair. They motion you to put your feet in. They motion or touch a foot to come out and be placed in a certain spot. They motion you to change feet. They make a little noise for you to choose if you want your nail clipped or filed. Sometimes you can go an entire pedi without ever having a conversation with your technician. This was not one of those days. 

I had decided that I was going to go with a French Pedicure so that it would last a long time. My time for nails is slim to none. I have desire. I don't have time. Hence the six month stent. Anyway, I try to explain as she's making me choose between clipping and filing that one of my nails is really short because I had broken it recently. 

Her: It okay, I make. 

Me: Okay. But don't clip it anymore. 

Her: It okay, I make. 

Me: resigning Okay. 

She gets my nails all cleaned up and she's very happy. She smiles at me a lot. I know this not because I see her smile, due to the mask, but her eyes crinkle and she tilts her head. Finally she asks me my name. 

Her: Wha yoo nam?

Me: Celeste. What's yours? 

Her: said at lightning speed: Nico...Li Nico Kima, you no har? Hee Hee Hee

Me: I'm sorry again. (I'm thinking she said her last name but by her tone I'm aware she's asked me a question but I haven't a clue what she asked. And that whatever she said was extremely funny to her)

Her: Nico....lik Nico Kima, you no har? Hee Hee Hee

I desperately look at Andi. She smiles and says, "Nicole Kidman. You know her?" Aa Ha. 

Me: Nicole Kidman. Yes, I'm aware of who she is. I've never met her however. 

At this point in my pedi, Nicole looks up and asks

Nicole: Yoo wan kalla remov?

Me: Do I need it? 

Nicole: O Ya, yoo nee!

Me: Okay. 

Nicole: big smile It etwa.

Me: What? 

Nicole: bigger smile It etwa. 

Again I look to Andi for translation. She smiles and says, "It's extra." At which Nicole rapidly shakes her head up and down. 

Me: Oh. It's okay. 

Nicole goes and gets the necessary tool to remove the calluses from my heels. I know I'm desperate. I've never done this. Then she brings back what looks like a grinder. Really?! 

Nicole works for a long time on my feet. She is no longer smiling under the mask. I'm pretty sure she cussing me out but I can't tell. Finally she's done. 

She begins painting my toes. She makes me a nail. Then at the right moment she asks: 

Nicole: Yoo wan flawa?

Me: Flower? 

Nicole: Ya, yoo wan flawa? I pan yoo flawa. 

Me: Okay.  

Nicole: It etwa. 

Me: Of course it is. It's okay. 

Nicole: I pan yoo 2 flawa. 

Me: Okay. 

She works a long time more. I was glad I wasn't in a hurry. At this point Andi was done. She was just letting her nails dry. 

Finally she's all done. She slides on my flip flops. Then she says this: 

Nicole: Yoo ah prewee now. Yoo no way six mon moor to cum baa. Twee wee, yoo baa. Oka?

Me: Okay. 

It's been almost five weeks. But you know, she did a great job and her paint has lasted. Even if it was etwa. 

You Can't Just....

The art in being a teacher is turning anything that might be trash into something creative while teaching the children at the same time. Giving new definition to: reuse, reduce and recycle. You remember my allotastuff post, well I've caught a full blown stage 5 since becoming a teacher. I can find a use for just about anything given long enough to think about it and having just the right opportunity present itself. Sometimes, I scare myself. I'll write about the garage sale sickness later. Anyway back to current story. So here are a couple of examples of how my new sickness is serving me: 

Example One: We were going to do jungle week. It was about three weeks away. I knew it was coming. I wasn't sure what my plans were but I had it in my head to create something fun and new for the kids in the classroom. Then as if the Divine was with me, the day before trash day a few weeks ago I drove home and there were two old silk potted plants sitting by someone's trash. They had elephant plant leaves. PERFECT I thought. I snagged them thinking, "I'm not sure how these are going to work, but I'm going to use them during Jungle Week." Flash forward to this week (jungle week) I haul them to my classroom, tear them apart and create a jungle in the reading area for my kids to explore and enjoy. It was a HIT!!! It had jungle sounds that they could listen to, stuffed and plastic animals endogenous to the jungle, some brown paper, a big plant from the auditorium, four yards of blue material and two yards of green (recycled from the Children's Choir props), and the silk leaves from my side of the road plants as foliage. Even found a place to put Sally, our pink Boa Constrictor. The kids fought over it the first day and argued who had been in the jungle too long and who's turn it was next. They eventually learned how to share and it turned out to be one of my best ideas so far. 

Example Two: Always thinking ahead. Next week is Ocean Week. Capitalizing on what I had already started, I was going to create the bottom of the Ocean for next week. I've already got the blue and green material exactly where it will need to go. Just need to build the bottom of the ocean. Again, Wednesday, the day before trash day, Colin and I are driving home. By someone's trash is a great metal basket. Kinda like what you might find balls in at a golf course. I immediately see a fishing basket with a catch inside, hanging from my ceiling as if off the bow of someone's boat that you could see if you were swimming around underwater, in the ocean. 

I pull to a stop, back up, and put the car in park. Colin wonders what in the world I'm doing. I explain that I want this basket for our ocean week. I snag the basket, hand it to Colin and drive on home. Colin likes the basket and wants to know if he can keep it after ocean week. Sure. Why not? 

Then he says, "But Mom, you can't just go around stealing stuff." 

I presented the, "if it's trash, then it's not stealing. They were throwing it away. I saved it. I recycled it. I'll reuse it and reduce the landfill by one little basket. I deserve a medal. 

After he thought about that and decided my argument was solid, he asked if we could go back and get the chair that the basket was sitting on. I declined because, you know, you just can't go around stealing stuff. 

This is a Dollar?

Colin and I drove through McDonald's about two weeks ago and I must relay the transaction that took place. I drove away afraid for my child's education and thankful that I'm a teacher and he will know the difference between the coins of the United States of America. 

I had 35 cents in change coming. The kid, at the window could've been 14 or 22. I can't tell how hold they are. The older I get, the younger kids look to me. Let's just say he was old enough to know better, or should've known better. He hands me a dime and a Susan B. Anthony silver dollar. I look at it. I know I'm only supposed to be getting 35 cents back so I say, 

"You gave me too much." 

"I did?" astonished that he could've made such a mistake

"Yes, you gave me a dollar and ten cents. I'm only supposed to get back 35 cents." 

"I gave you a quarter and a dime." 

"No, you gave me this." I hand it back. "This is a dollar." 

"This is a dollar!?" as if he's never seen such a thing.

"Yes, it's a Susan B. Anthony silver dollar, not a quarter." 

"Oh." He takes the dollar, gives me a quarter. 

Then I think, he doesn't deserve this dollar. I ask, 

"Can I have it?" 

blank stare

"I mean, can I trade it?" I offer a dollar bill

"Okay" he takes my bill, hands me back the coin. 

"Thanks."

I drive away astonished. 

WOW!

A Mess

The last week was one of my busiest all year. The Children's Choir performed their spring musical this weekend. I'm involved, Colin's involved, we're busy! Prep for that was huge. Time for that was emence. Time for all the other things that still had to be done came from my sleeping time. And let's just be honest, a bunch of stuff didn't get done at all - you should see my ironing pile! The inside of the car looked like a nuclear bomb went off. The only reason poor Colin's sheets got changed is because the cat managed to get in there and take a nap causing an Asthma attack. You can write your name on every surface in my house provided you can find the surface, the stuff in the refrigerator is now a science experiment, the toilets are desperate (I live with boys) and, and, and, ....I digress. 

Anyway, this was a little nugget from Colin. He's said this before. I don't know, maybe he's right. 

We drive through McDonalds on the way to the first program on Friday night. I won't tell you how many other times we had driven through. My poor child. He needed to eat, we needed to go, McDs is on the way, he'll eat it, and I needed Diet Coke bad (back on the sauce people, back on it hard). 

So we pull out. I'm trying to drive, open his apple juice, his apple dippers (we do eat some of the healthy stuff too) and pass it back to him while avoiding people who don't know how to drive. And I'm desperate for the first sip of my DC. I always ask for extra ice because I like my drink cold - I want it cold for a long time and I want it cold all the way to the bottom. Well, bless McD's heart, they want me to have every drop of sauce I deserve for my hard earned dollar so they fill it to the rim. My cup overfloweth, no doubt. 

I get my cup out, I see a red light coming, I begin to break, I sip, I tip, DC dribbles down my choir shirt, it's cold, it's wet, it's a mess. 

"Ahhhhh, Oh for crying out loud! wipe, soak, wipe, break, stop, breath, sip again and again and once again ...Colin, your Mommy's a mess. Do you know this? Your Mommy's a mess!" 

With his little mouth full of apples he responds, "God shoudda made you a boy." 

Salt Licked

In memory: 

Salt was put to sleep by a very sweet vet who had sympathy for her inability to be a good mother, her blindness, neurological problems, paralyzed left side, and starvation.  

May she rest in peace. 

Side note: the kids have almost forgotten Salt existed. I don't have to change the cage as often. Scissors has started being nicer. And the birds moved to the two-year-old room. Things have calmed considerably in the classroom pet department. Ahhhhhhh.

Daddy will never....

So I'm always telling Colin that I have eyes in the back of my head. He thinks I'm crazy but has enough curiosity and evidence of my "eyes" that he doesn't down right defy them. 

One day my boss told Colin, "Your mom has eyes in the back of her head. Don't you know that?" You should've seen the look on his face. Since then, my eyes, have even more intrigue to him. (Thanks Mia). 

Today we're shopping in a store. Colin says, "Mom, kids have eyes in the side of their heads."

I said, "No buddy. Kids just have two eyes. You have to be a grown up to have extra eyes in your head. And even more than that, you have to be a MOM!" 

pause / thinking

"Daddy will never be a Mom." 

I couldn't have said it better if I tried. 

Kissing for Days

Colin: Can I watch the DVD player? 

Me: For a kiss

Colin: Okay. 

kiss

Colin: You can have thirty thousand kisses.

Me: Cool, thanks!

pause

Colin: If you got that many, we'd be kissing for days!

To Face or Not To Face?

So, I have these friends who do this thing called Face Book. Yeah, I know, it's most of you people. I have many of you friends who wonder what's with Celeste and that she doesn't Face? Honestly, I'm literally afraid of it. I'm so afraid of it, I haven't even ventured out to see what's involved. 

I hear things like this: 

So, this person, whom I've not heard from in 25 years found me on Face Book!

So and so, friended me on Face Book (said with disgust)

I spent 3 hours on Face Book yesterday

I haven't caught up on Face Book in ages

Why aren't you on Face Book

I tried to find you on Face Book

I tried to friend you on Face Book

You find all kinds of people on Face Book (I don't want to find people)

It keeps you in touch with everyone!

UGGGG - I don't want people "finding" me! What if I don't want to be found?!

The truth is, I like being a missing person. But when my oldest friend told me she knows more about my sister than me because of Face Book I was a little peeved and somewhat jealous and now I'm thinking that maybe Face isn't so bad and I was wondering what you guys think.....

Also, keeping up with the blog is hard enough, who has time for Facing!? 

I'm feeling like it's going to be a slap in the face - no really!

On Purpose

Coin: When you do something mean to me, you do it on purpose. 

Me: What? 

Colin: When you do something mean to me, you do it on purpose. (He's referring to discipline)

Me: I also love you on purpose. 

Colin: Okay. That's good. 

Oh Crap!

(The names of the children have been left out to protect the innocent and the guilty)

For the most part, handling the kids' pre-school issues are normal Mommy / Teacher behavior. However, there are certain times that stuff goes down and you wish for a little more education, intuition, common sense, psyche classes, and without question, the miracle of forgetfulness for the children. 

On Friday, right as lunch was about over I started the "Potty Train" where all the kids go potty before nap time. The first one in line was a beautiful and very compliant little girl. She starts the potty train by stating that she needs to go. I send her in. She returns, finishes lunch, excuses herself. I have done 1000 more things since then and remember that I'm supposed to sending kids to pee. I send a little boy who's been done with lunch. He goes in and immediately comes back out. 

Teacher, there's poop in here. 

We'll insert name pee on top of it and then flush it all. 

But Teacher, the poop is on the floor!

WHAT!? I round the corner and see that indeed there is poop on the floor in front of the potty, kind of smeared but not exactly, it's fresh and it stinks. 

Of course by now, many of the students have to look, see, comment. This is making the whole situation worse. I have to do something right now or this will be a worse disaster than it already is. 

Now, you be me. What to do next?! I considered all sorts of things. One to clean it up myself, move on and get the potty train done. I considered going into the room and announcing that someone needs to finish the job. I considered going home and not dealing with it at all. Truth be told, this was the most favorable option but clearly not a viable one. 

I send my tattle-tail out of the bathroom and I go out and survey the classroom. I'm thinking who was the last kid in there that I'm aware of? Then it dawns on me. The sweet little girl mentioned above is my first deduction. I call her over to me. Now, side note on this child. She literally melts if she's in trouble for the littlest thing, hence she is rarely in trouble with anyone. Before she ever gets to me I see it fear and shame on her face. I realize that probably she is my guilty party. Now I know enough about her to know she would NEVER do such a thing on purpose. In fact she is so good that she wouldn't even be able to think it up. So I ask. 

Insert name I need the truth. Was it you? Please just tell me the truth. 

She nods yes. 

Okay. Now what? 

I decide that she needs to help me clean it up and that way we can talk about it and find out what happened. She's crying. Tears are rolling down her cheeks one after the other as I put gloves on her hands and mine. 

We go to the bathroom. I show her how to clean it up. I help. She cries. We finish. Then I say the following. 

Here's what I think happened. I think when you stood up and wiped, the poop hadn't fallen off into the potty yet. As you wiped, it fell to the floor instead. So here's my question. Did you know that the poop was on the floor when you left the bathroom? 

She nods yes. 

Okay. In the future, if you ever have any kind of problem, please will you come get me? All you have to do is say, "Ms Celeste, I need your help. Can you come please?" And I'll come help and we will fix it, whatever it is. Also, that way, no one has to know anything except you and me. Okay?

Okay. 

I hug her and tell her it's okay. She didn't mean to and we're just going to forget all about it. (praying for that miracle of forgetfulness). 

She recovers, the class minds their manners and doesn't tease her or mention it again (I was astonished at that and so very grateful). I later had to tell her mother what happened so if her daughter mentioned something about it, she had the whole story. Her mother was horrified for her and wanted to just cry for her. I did too. But I told her the class didn't tease her and she recovered from the incident. 

What a day! Seriously, this wasn't in my orientation for becoming a Preschool Teacher. 

Been Found Out!

Colin says to me yesterday, "Mom, you're just filled with jokes." 

translation.....

"Mom, you're full of it." 

.....I know that. JD definitely knows that, I just didn't think Colin would figure that out so soon. 

The Price Is Right

Colin and I were off school today. He discovered "The Price Is Right". While sitting in a trance he said, "Mom, I love this show on the big TV". 

Me too!

Perhaps we should TiVo it. At the very least, he'll learn large numbers and some shopping tips. 

Sweet Talk

Colin: Mom, you know what sweet talk is?

I have a guess but I can't wait to hear what he thinks it is

Me: No, what is it?

Colin: It's when you pull the antennas off the ants. That's sweet talk." 

Dying inside!!!! Especially since they're also called "feelers". 

P-Parties

I have 10 boys in my classroom. They often go to the restroom in pairs. One is supposed to pee and the other should be washing hands. Way too many times a P-Party (penis party) is taking place. Boys being boys and in truth it is hilarious. But as the teacher I'm not allowed to find humor in it, but instead must teach them that P-Parties shouldn't happen, especially in the classroom. 

So last Friday, it was finally nap time and I was supposed to mop and clean the bathroom and classroom floor. I went in the bathroom to discover the remains of a major P-Party that had taken place. The top of the trash can lid was upside down thus creating a bowl like situation. In the bowl was pee, on the floor was pee, on the wall was pee. REALLY!!??? What the crap?! I mean PEE! Disgusting. You're laughing. I know you are and I get it. I would've laughed too, had I not been on the clean up crew that day. 

Birds!

JD and Colin and I were sitting outside at Golden Spoon. GS is this wonderful frozen yogurt place that we should buy stock in. Anyway, as we were sitting there enjoying our treat a bird flew overhead and sent down a gift to splat on our table. It took several seconds for us to register what just took place. Colin finally broke the silence. 

Colin: What is that? 

Me: Bird poop.

Colin: Where did it come from? 

JD: A bird pooped. 

Colin: On the table?!

Me: It pooped as it flew over. Be glad it didn't land our our heads. 

Colin: That's what birds do? ...They just poop! ....Anywhere they want?!

Me: Yep, that's what birds do. 

The next day or so Colin reviews that with me. "Mom, remember that bird that just pooped on the table at Golden Spoon?" "Yes. I remember." Then he says as he shakes his head back and forth in disbelief, "Birds!" 

By the way, the birds are back in our classroom. Only not Rocket. Apparently, the little kids knocked over the cage while it was outside and Rocket flew the coop. So now we have Patrick and Ricky. Who names these birds!? 

With 2 hamsters, 2 birds, 23 kids and a turtle I'm going to change my title to zoo-keeper.

Contacting

Colin: as he is aiming his Star Wars gun with the laser light You know what I'm doing Mom as I move my gun around? 

Me: What? 

Colin: Contacting.

Me: What's contacting? 

Colin: That's when I shoot everything I see except people. That's contacting.

Um, yeah, the cat was contacted. 

Bye Bye Floppers

I don't think I mentioned that Colin named the spider "Floppers". Anyway, I saw that she was looking lethargic and thought we should let her go. This was Thursday evening. I told Colin it was time to let her go. He emphatically said, "No." 

Friday morning I looked for her in the jar. Took me a long time to find her. Thought she was dead. Finally she peaked out and walked around. I was relieved. Again I told Colin we needed to let her go. He didn't want to. I told him that if we don't she will die in the jar. He didn't want her to die and he didn't want her to go. I told him that he really needed to think about it and hopefully she would still be alive when we got home from school. 

Friday afternoon we found her in the jar. She didn't look good at all. Finally Colin said we should let her go. We did. She was happy to be out of the jar. 

Later that night in bed he said, "I'm gonna miss Floppers." "Me too. You did a good thing letting her go. I didn't want her to die." "Me either." Then in the dark, I saw Colin wipe a tear away. 

I don't know, maybe it's cuz we're reading Charlotte's Web in school or what, but just like Wilbur, we found something beautiful in our spider and we were sad to see her go. Colin was especially sad. It was a sweet moment. 

A Banker

Hanging in Colin's classroom is a life-size outline drawing of him. Next to it was the word "Banker". This is what my son, apparently, wants to be when he grows up. 

So I asked him, "What happened to being a race car driver or a baseball player?" The last time we discussed his options, those were the top two choices. And this was his response....

"Well... when I'm 70, I'm gonna be a race car driver."  

"Come In" said the Spider to the Fly

This coming week we (the Pre-K class) are going to study Insects and Spiders. I've been thinking about them, planning for them, reading stories about them etc. as I get my lessons together. 

Then yesterday we decided to give the garage a spring cleaning. While doing that there was a spider trapped in a storage bin. I decided that this would be a perfect opportunity to watch our subject a little closer. So I created a habitat for our spider. 

Later, I told Colin that we will have to be in charge of finding our spider's food since she's trapped for our pleasure. So he's been on the lookout for bugs. Last night we found a little flying thing. I caught it, dropped it in. This morning we couldn't find the little bug. Just the spider. 

Then later this morning, Colin called me into his play room. Said there was a big fly. I swatted it, trying not to kill it but just stun it. I think I killed it but didn't squash. I decided to drop the fly into the web and see if our spider would "bite" even though she didn't get the kill. 

Just now, we watched her devour her gift. It was absolutely awesome! Since then we've added another (live) meal. While she was eating, we shot a couple of pictures. 

I love that we got to see her in action. And can I say a picture of a bug through a canning jar is a really cool pic? 

I love my job! It makes me a better mom.

The Chick Race

What do you get when you combine Speed Racer collector cars, spring chicks and a four-year-old boy? 

A Speedy Chick Race of course.

Little Einsteins

Colin knows cello from Little Einsteins peeps.... Little Einsteins. It was his favorite TV show for over a year. We have every episode on TiVo. There's one about a cello. He learned. And around the same time, we reinforced with a live concert DVD where the band Styx is playing with a youth orchestra. As the camera scanned the kids playing, we talked about the instruments they played. He knows that a violin and a cello are related. One is bigger and lower than the other. He can name a bunch of other instruments as well. Kinda cool. 

Little sponges. They absorb everything. 

If you've got a toddler to 3 1/2 year old - they'll LOVE Little Einsteins. I highly recommend it. 

The Cello Vitamin

My son has been taking Flinstones vitamins for a long time. For the same length of time he has called them "Cello Vitamins".  I don't know why. I never asked. You know how your kids name things and you just roll with it cuz it's cute. 

Well tonight, he reminds me, "Don't forget the Cello vitamin." I don't, I set it in front of him on the side of the bathtub (we always take them at bath-time, so we don't forget). He looks at it. Really looks at it and then says, "These aren't violins. These are people." I said, "I know, they're the Flinstones." He said, "The what?" "The Flinstones." pause for crinkle in forehead "Who are they?" 

sigh..... 

Two sad things: 

1. He won't call them cello vitamins any more. 

2. He has no idea who the Flinstones are because they are OLD like me. 

If God Had Made You A Boy....

"Mom, If God had made you a boy, Dad would be 44 and you would be 41 and you raced, you would win because the youngest is the fastest.  Pause   But He didn't, He made you a girl." 

Sigh

#4 Accomplished

Found it. 

Rule number six: look under the big table, over by where the cat's water and food used to be, almost under the china hutch. 

# 4

From the bathtub: "Mom, find my other black spiderman." (the latest crap from McDs)

"I don't know where it is. "

"Go look for it."

"Where?"

"Look in these places:

Number one, on the desk

Number two, on the table

Number three, under the piano

And number four, find it!"

wanted to say, go find your own damn spiderman. I go look in the places instructed. I find nothing and decide that was funny and start a blog post about it.

from the bathtub: 

"Mom, did you find it?" 

"No"

"Did you look in all the spots?"

"Yes"

"It's not there?"

"No."

"Then you need rule number 5." (now we've gone from places to rules)

"Where?"

"Come here to me. I can't tell you rule number 5 if you're in there."

I go

"Yes?"

"Rule number 5 is to look in the kitchen, by the desk, go straight, then at the other desk, on the right side. "

"Okay."

"MOM!" 

"What?"

"If you don't find it there come back and I'll keep giving you clues until you find it. "

The child has all the spiderman creatures in the bathtub except the one we're hunting for. And we....well we obviously don't know where the hell it is. And one of us doesn't care. 

He sends me to the car to look for it there. I go. I know! He's in the tub but I go. I look. I fail. I return. He gives me  a "whatever" sigh and says, "Can I get out now?" 

"You betcha." 

The Hard Spot

Colin came to me at the playground this morning after he had been playing football in the grassy area with the other boys. He comes over to me with his butt poking out a little and he's got ahold of one side of his pants. He says, "Mom, you shouldn't have bought these pants." I ask, "Why not?" knowing he's worn them over and over and never had a complaint thus far. He says, "Because they have a hard spot here." pointing to his clutched back pocket. I reach down and feel around for this "hard spot" and feel where the carpenter pocket connects to the back pocket thinking that maybe this is what he's talking about and then I feel it. Sure enough, there is a hard spot. I reach in his pocket and find a rock. Pulling it out, I said, "Is this the hard spot you're talking about?" He feels his pants again and with great satisfaction runs off saying, "Yeah!" I holler, "Where did the rock come from?" He hollers back, "I found it!" 

BOYS!

God Shouldda....

While peeing Colin says to me, "Mom, God shouldda made you a boy." I asked, "Why?" "So you could stand up!" he retorts as he shakes the dew off his lilly. 

Deep down, I wanted to prove to that boy that I could pee standing up if I had to. But I refrained. 

The Spring Forward Rule

Years ago my husband installed a new rule at our house on Spring Forward Time Change Weekend. My husband goes to work on Sunday mornings. He's a Worship Arts Pastor. This is a big deal to get up early, much less one hour earlier than he's used to. He doesn't like time change weekend in the spring. Honestly, who does. 

Anyway, three maybe four years ago, I changed our clocks. Then I forgot I had changed our clocks and I changed our bedroom clock again. Yep, the poor man got up TWO hours earlier than normal. And I think that on that particular weekend it might even have been Easter which means there might have been an "early" service!  But whatever the circumstances I remember my husband very very very unhappy with me that he got up at 3AM by normal standards, by the new time 4AM, but he really could've slept one more hour which meant he would've got up at 5AM, which is what our bedroom clock now read. Something like that. Either way, my name was mud for a long time. 

The Rule? JD either sets the clocks himself or we set them together. Can you blame him? I don't. 

We also have two clocks now in our bed/bath. One digital (easy to screw up) and one that runs on battery that's a face clock. Much more difficult to screw up. This way there's a check and balance for me and him. 

I still feel bad. Every year I'm reminded. Sorry husband. 

The Note

JD went to an Elder's Retreat this weekend. He left last night and will be back on Saturday sometime, probably just in time to go to work. Anyway, we saw him here and there on Thursday but our goodbyes were hurried and half-assed. I thought about it and prayed for his safe return so I would have the chance to give him a proper hello. 

So, as I'm thinking about this, a thought of a note crossed my mind. That in the future, if he's going that maybe I should include a note. I've done this in the past but it's been awhile. That way he would have a little something while he's gone and he would know how much he's loved and missed. 

Well last night as I was getting Colin in bed I noticed something on Colin's pillow. It was a note. It was to both of us and it included all the right things. The perfect note. It said hello, that he'll miss us, that he loves us and that he can't wait to get back to us and that we are the best things in his life. To me that was so perfect. I felt better now about the goodbye. 

Colin and I read the note together. He asked if I would read it again. Then he wanted to keep the note with him as he slept. I suggested we put it under his pillow. He didn't like that idea because it might fall behind the bed. I suggested we tuck it in his pillow case. He liked that idea. We did. Then as I was about to turn the light off he said. "Daddy left a note." I said, "Yea, it was nice huh?" "Yea." We talked about several things and then he nestled in to sleep. The last thing he said was, "Dad wrote me a note." 

Well done JD. Thank you for sharing your love with us. 

Leave notes. Write them in your own handwriting (no computers) and include all the right things. They make a difference. 

MOM! You made me.....

Is it just my kid or do all kids do this around this age? Colin has started blaming me for everything that isn't exactly like he thinks it should be. His favorite line is "Mom, you almost made me...." or "Mom, you made me...." fill in the blank. Here are some classic examples of late, like the last 24 hours: 

In the bathtub, I turn him around to finish washing him and he steps on one of his toys in the bathtub. "Mom! You made me hurt my foot." 

While helping him get dressed on the bed he loses his balance cuz it's bouncy. I actually catch the child from falling and he says, "Mom! You almost made me fall." 

On the way to the car, it's raining. We get in the car as I'm helping him buckle his seat belt, the door is open, the door is getting wet (so am I btw). I close the door, get in and he says, "Mom, look at this, you made the door wet." 

I could be in another room and I'm sure it would be my fault that something happened or almost happened. I'm completely fed up with it. After the little rain comment. I turned around and said with force. "Colin, I did not make anything wet. It's raining outside for crying out loud. The rain coming out of the sky is not my doing. I had nothing to do with the door being wet. But here's what I did do. I got you up this morning. I made sure you wore clothes appropriate for today's weather. I put a jacket on your head so you wouldn't get wet. I made your lunch today so you wouldn't go hungry. I'm taking you to school so you can learn something and be intelligent. I'm going to help you all day. That's what I will do and make happen. Learn the difference before you drive me crazy!" .....

hmmm, wonder where he gets it? 

Happy Birthday Dr. Seuss

Today is Dr. Suess's birthday. We celebrated at school with green eggs and ham. The kids ate them and they liked them. They liked green eggs and ham. They liked them Sam I am. 

The Cat in the Hat is 50. 

Salt

Picked up Salt today to check on her. She's really skinny and now I'm thinking she's not only lame but blind. Can't take much more people. What to do..... what to do?

The Hamicide part 2

Last week in my class was Where The Wild Things Are. We did many many projects on wild animals. Little did we know that inside our room were a couple of wild animals that would provide a lesson perfect to the week's curriculum. 

Salt and Scissors were much quieter since Pepper's death. (please read part one). I guess now we know who was causing all the trouble. The two remaining hamsters seemed to be friends. All was going well and because of that, my affinity for them began to grow. To the point that I decided to go to the pet store and get a little education and necessities for the little creatures. 

I go to the pet store on Monday afternoon. The pet store was like any other. Full of CRAP you don't need but you would buy because you don't know better. Luckily, I had most of what the hamsters needed. What I knew they needed was the proper liner of the bottom of their cage. I didn't know what it was but I knew hay wasn't it. I knew wood shavings wasn't it either (this is what I had to work with in the classroom) I got the recycled newsprint stuff and kudos to the lady who sold it to me, it's perfect! She also gladly sold me new food, wood things for them to chew on, and a house to hide in (a nest). I was good with all this as I knew the hamsters needed it. Besides I was going to turn in the receipt so I was more liberal with my spending. It's for the hamsters.... right!?

So on Tuesday, I'm so excited to share the new goods with the little guys. I put Scissors in its ball and it's happy to be loose, so to speak and I put Salt in one too but since the leg is lame, it doesn't roll anywhere. I clean the cage, add the new stuff and put them back and watch as they examine the new things. Right away Scissors goes to work on the nest, pulling out the stuffing, gnawing at it here and there and began making it home. I give kudos again to the sales lady who obviously didn't just talk me into something I really didn't need. 

On Wednesday the two hamsters are happy as clams. Salt is looking a little weak. As I said, it is fat and lame so I'm praying it will die soon. Regardless of my prayers, it is hanging on. Scissors seems pleased with all the changes. 

On Thursday I come in and decide to bring the cage down to the children's level. It stays up and out of reach during class time so they (the kids and the animals) are not overwhelmed with excitement. As I bring the cage down, the kids gather round. They are excited to see them up close. I peer in and notice that both hamsters are up in the apartment on top. I peer closer. I notice something that doesn't look normal. I'm thinking to myself that maybe one of them is sick. It doesn't look like throw up, it looks more like intestines. I ask the kids if I can get closer. When I get really close, the thing I'm staring at moves. ..... OH CRAP! What the hell is that?!!

I keep my cool and never let the kids know I'm freaking out. As I widen my view and take in the whole scene and see that we have baby hamsters. WE HAVE BABIES~! I realize that the thing I first saw was the last birth still in its sack. Then I survey the situation. One of the babies is bleeding because it's missing a leg and the other is not looking so good, I look at Salt and it is pushing something around, I count another baby and this one is covered in wet mucus stuff, I look at Scissors and it is chewing on something, another baby and this one is bleeding from its head. 5 Babies. Two already chewed on, one normal, one still in the sack, one being cleaned or moved around by the mother? I look at Salt. Sure enough that girl has lost some weight. She's all skinny now. I look at Salt, who is now having a hay-day torturing the infant. 

Can I just say, my state of "freaking out" is a little out of control? I'm desperately trying to think of what to do next.  I know that if Scissors stays in there, it will kill them all. But before I save any babies, I run over to Ms D's room and let her know that we have babies. I tease her, no wonder she wanted to pawn them off. She claimed complete ignorance and started freaking out, out loud. I sent her away. I call my director, Ms M. who is at home trying to get ready. She says she'll be right there. In the meantime, I go find Ms B who is wise and has had many many pets in her life including rodents. She comes in and surveys the situation. 

I love a calm person in a crisis. I love these people. She says, "Get that one out of there. If that's the Daddy, it will kill them all. Give me a Kleenex so I can get rid of the ones they've wounded. Then she said, see if the mother will do what she's supposed to. She warns us that she probably won't

Now, you have to remember that I have about 8 children watching this go down. 8 children who have never seen a death right before their eyes. 8 children and a teacher who have never seen hamsters give birth. I decide that this must become a teaching lesson and I need to get control. I explain what has happened. They love to look at the new babies. "What happened to the other three Ms Celeste?" "They didn't make it." "But what happened?" "They died." "Why?" "The mother or father didn't want them so they killed them?" "Why?" "I don't know exactly. Maybe they didn't know what to do with them." "Oh.... will they kill the other two?" "That's an excellent question. We'll have to wait and see." "I hope the mother loves them and nurses them?" (this is a very smart little kid) "Me too." "What will we do with the Daddy?" "That's another excellent question. We can't put him back in there can we?" "NO! He's not nice to the babies." "What do you think we should do?" "He needs another cage." "Excellent idea." I look around and see our old bird cage. I think that will work until we figure out what to do. Scissors gets a temporary home in the bird cage. Comical at best. 

Mind you, many many more children have come in with their parent. The kids have been retelling the story. The parents and kids have been peering into the cage. I've moved the Mamma and the two little babies into the nest and we're waiting to see if she'll take to them or kill them. For an hour and a half nothing has happened in our class but the hysteria of hamsters, birth, death, separation, and hope. What a great lesson in Wild Animal Week. 

As we go outside, I tell the kids to be prepared that when we come back we might not have any more babies left. They seem okay with this. Some are hopeful. Some don't understand. Some don't care. They're tired of this lesson and just want to go outside. 

As I feared, there were no more babies alive when we get back. Salt killed them both. I guess she knew that with a bum leg, she wasn't fit to be a mother. We also took Scissors to Ms B to examine and see if indeed we had a male. She let us know we DID NOT! So guess who was the daddy folks? You got it. Pepper. And all that noise we heard..... yeah, much rape and pillaging going on in that cage. Finally the girls got tired of it, murdered the man, killed the babies and are living happily ever after in a cage that's quiet and calm. 

I fear, deep down, that we have another litter on the way..... Does anyone know the gestation period for hamsters? 

The Hamicide part 1

I'm a Preschool Pre-K teacher. I have a room FULL of 4.5 and 5 year olds. They are wonderful. Individually they are just amazing and so cute most of the time. Together they are still amazing, not so cute and a challenge that I enjoy taking on each day. There isn't a day that doesn't go by that I couldn't put some blurb on my blog but I don't know if you guys would care and so I don't. I guess you could vote. Anyway, occasionally, something happens that demands to be retold. It's stranger than fiction. I can't make this stuff up people, even if I try.....

When I first began my job the last week of October, 2008 I had 15 kids and 1 bird. I've never had a bird. I don't know a thing about birds. I don't dislike birds but I wouldn't choose one as a pet. Regardless, I now had a bird, was responsible for this bird and needed to at least give it a chance. His name is Rocket. It took me about a month to like Rocket and Rocket's mess. BIRDS ARE MESSY!!!! Feathers, food and poop are everywhere all the time and they come with an odor no matter how clean the cage is. But I have to admit that by the end of November, I liked Rocket and didn't mind cleaning up after him. He loved to hear a story. Whenever I read aloud to the kids he would sing and sing and sing. This was my connection to the bird. Rocket, the bird who will sing while you read him a story. 

Each class has a pet. I had Rocket, there was another bird named Patrick, there were four hamsters, some fish and a turtle. There might be more, but since I'm not responsible, I'm a little out of the loop. Anyway, over Christmas all these pets had to have a temporary home. Someone decided to take Rocket and Patrick. A bird lover came in and told us that these particular birds like to have company. So since the kids wouldn't be around, we decided that the two birds should go home together so they at least have each other while they missed the kids. 

When the birds came back they were very VERY attached to each other so we let them stay together. I now no longer had a bird, just an empty cage. It was bitter sweet. I was happy to not have to clean up after the bird or worry for the bird but I missed his singing and so did the kids. They asked about Rocket often. I told them he wasn't gone, just moved. Of course they wanted to know when we would get another bird. I didn't know. I didn't care. I had grown close to Rocket but as for other birds, they could be set free for all I cared. 

Skip ahead one month. For the month of Jan we had no pets. We got over Rocket and moved on. Then one day, Ms D came in bearing a hamster cage. With her eyes set just right and her voice with just the right amount of plead, she asked if I would take these off her hands. Apparently, they make too much noise and wake up the children during nap time. We don't nap in my room so it seems logical that they could live in here. I peered into the cage. THREE hamsters lived in there. It looked crowded. It smelled bad. Let me just say that I must have had a good prayer time that morning because the tiny ounce of mercy in me said, "Ok." 

Now, as much as I don't care about birds; I really don't care about hamsters or rodents. I'm a cat lover remember? I see toys for Tumbleweed when I look into the cage. And as little as I know about caring for a bird I know less about caring for a hamster, especially three hamsters. Their names were Salt (white), Pepper (black) and Scissors (tan). Yippie! 

I find the other teacher who has a hamster in her room. I get a basic care guide from her and one other teacher. Within hours of having them, I set to cleaning the cage and try to get the smell down to something tolerable. I put the hamsters in their balls so they can roll around. The kids LOVE them immediately. It's their joy that really commits me. Fine. I learned how to care for a bird and I even liked the bird, surely the same will happen with the hamsters. I just have to give them a chance. 

Ms D was right about the noise. These guys were fighting, biting and picking on each other constantly. I don't know anything so I think this is normal for hamsters. Ms M drops in and hears the noise and proceeds to tell me the following account. "That tan one used to be mine but my hamster was always biting it. Almost killed it. That's why you have three. We just put it in with Salt and Pepper to save it's life." Toy for Tumbleweed coming to mind. Okay, well that explains it. So who do you think is causing all the trouble in there now? She says, "I don't know." Excellent. We're all stupid when it comes to hamsters. Whose idea was this again? 

We cope and we clean and we hear them constantly bickering and carrying on. Then one day it was quiet. I peered into the cage and I see Salt and Scissors but can't find Pepper. I look and look and don't find him. The cage has a little apartment that the hamsters can climb to and an exercise ball they can get to on top and then their cage is down below. Salt and Scissors were in the ball with hay they had brought up from below. They were gnawing on something. I look closer. Finally I see Pepper. Looks like they are chewing on its leg. Yeppers, Pepper's dead. 

I honestly don't remember how Pepper got out and who disposed of him. I didn't. I was busy. I was glad we were down to two and was wondering if Salt would die soon. Salt had been dropped over the Christmas vacation and now has a paralyzed back hind leg. So not only did Ms D bring me three hamsters, she brought me three that fight, one that's gonna die, and one that bites and one that's wounded. In my right mind I would've said, give them to someone else. Ridiculous. Anyway, Salt moved around pretty good for the condition but was slow and fat and if rolled over wrong it took a long time to get right. (kind of like a bug on its back. I've fallen and can't get up syndrome). Anyway, I'm thinking Salt's on its last leg and then we'll just have Scissors who bites but is at least active and fun to watch. Secretly, I begin to pray for this event to happen. 

Last week, an event happened. Not the one I prayed for, but an event none-the-less.....  will finish tomorrow 

Tough

While giving Colin a bath tonight I noticed a little bruise on his back. Who knows? Didn't get a bath last night. It looks over a day old. So I asked while pressing on the bruise slightly (why do we do that?) and asked: 

Me: Where did you get that bruise?

Colin: (flenching) Don't know. 

Me: On the playground probably. 

Colin: Yeah probably. 

Me: You're so tough. 

Colin: Tougher than you. 

Me: stunned silence

Colin: You're so like... NOT tough. (smile)

Then later I was retelling this to JD and Colin was listening. Then he added. "Cuz she never cries."  I guess you are really tough if you cry.  I suppose he's right. And the truth is, I do cry, just not very often. I guess that makes me, what was it? Oh yeah, NOT tough. 

Predestination

Everything is a competition. And the winner is predetermined no matter the contest. Established before the foundation of the earth. 

Colin: Mom, what color is my hair? 

Me: Light brown. 

Colin: What color is your hair? 

Me: Dark brown. 

Colin: I win!

Me: You win? 

Colin: The person with light brown hair wins!

Good to know. 

Wii have been invaded

Colin is getting really good at this stuff. More on my whole view of Wii later. Just this little nugget for fun....

He's boxing. He won the first player. The second player happens to be a girl. He expresses his displeasure about this subtly. He knocks her down but she gets up on 7. He knocks her down again, she gets up on 9. At this point he vocalizes his frustration. "Mom, this girl I'm playing is tough!" Finally he knocks her out. He does quite the "victory dance" over that one. 

I'm thinking.... this is good training for your future. You gotta learn not to get the shit knocked out of you by some girl. 

When Will I Be Done?

Colin's been asthma related sick this past week. Translation: he doesn't have a bad cold but he's got all the symptoms of a cold and a deep cough. How do I know the difference? Four years of training. Anyway, he's got a round of medicines he takes regularly to prevent a serious case of full blown asthma outbreak but sometimes, even that doesn't quite get it done. 

On Monday, MLK Jr day, we went to Santa Barbara for the day. Walked on the beach, ate pizza outside and watched the ocean, played at a great park and in general had a fantastic day. However, all the "good fresh air" undid my child. So, he comes down with a nasty cough and snot-nose. I decide to be proactive and take him to the doctor on Wednesday before it gets worse. Sometimes we have to add a round of Prednisolone steroid to really kick the episode. As it turns out, I'm becoming a pretty good doctor for my child. I was right that he needed the steroids but while there, the doctor decides he should be on an allergy nasal spray routine as well as everything else we do. I say okay. What's one more at this point. It's amazing what one can get used to. 

As soon as we get home from the doctor and pharmacy, I give him the first of five doses of steroids. And at bath time, I'm explaining to Colin the new routine. His response is a lot like mine, in what's one more? So we do the nasal spray to clean the sinuses. Then 10 minutes later we do the allergy spray, Fluticasone. Then we take our antihistamine and our daily vitamin, then we follow up with a dose of Albuteral through the nebulizer and right before bed we do the inhaler 2x of Flovent.  Not to mention the Epi Pen we NEVER leave home without. I know right!? What the crap. 

The next night we begin the same thing. As we are doing the allergy nasal medicine he asks, "Mom, this is the second time for this medicine. How long do I have to take this one?" I say, "For the rest of your life." He asks with hope, "Then I'll be done?" I smile at the irony in his sentence and respond, "Yep, then you'll be done." He liked that answer. 

By the way, Colin will remind me, "Mom, we need to take my meds." I guess he knows they make a difference for him. 

Well.... What Would You've Said?

On vacation we went to Texas to see Granny and Pop. There was too much food as usual when people gather together for a holiday. I had helped make scalloped potatoes. They didn't get done when we were supposed to eat them so they were going to go back in the oven another day and finish getting done. This was a BIG corning dish of potatoes with butter, milk, salt pepper etc. 

So in the fridge is the potatoes balanced on the ham with no lid. JD and I had gone to the movies as a date night (Dec 22 was our anniversary of 8 years and we went on a date while Granny and Pop babysat.) When we got back we heard about the incident that took place. 

Granny and Colin were in the living room playing a game. Pop was going to get some dinner ready. Pop opened the fridge and the potatoes that were precariously balanced upon the ham crashed to the floor right side down. Shattered corning ware, potatoes etc all over the floor. Granny says, "What was that?!" Colin replies, "Sounded like glass." They get up to inspect the damage. Granny and Colin round the corner and get an eye full. Colin surveys the situation and says, "Holy Shit!" 

Granny and Pop do their best to not laugh out loud. Granny asks Colin where he heard that. Colin says, "My Mom, at home." Excellent. Then Colin realizes that maybe he shouldn't have said what he did so he offers up this gem, "Holy Gosh?" Perfect! You know I'm in so much trouble now. 

So after the story, after a good laugh, after I get all kinds of looks from my husband, my mother-in-law, and my father-in-law (not so harsh but more atta girl like) I say, "Well, at least he picked the right time to say exactly what everyone was thinking." And personally, if I had made the mess and my son rounded the corner and said, "Holy Shit." I would've responded, "You got that right buddy. Couldn't have said it better myself." 

It's hopeless. I'm in love with my son! 

A Clean Slate

I love when the new year begins. It's a clean slate. Everything is new. You haven't screwed up yet. You haven't eaten too much yet. You haven't told any major lies. You haven't done serious damage....yet. You have a once a year opportunity to start a new again and everyone is on your side if not in the same boat even. 

So, here I am, going to resolve to blog once a week no matter how tired I am after being extremely busy teaching a bunch of little kids how to read and write and count beyond twenty. I will figure out what day is best for blogging but I miss it and it seems my mind does too. 

So, today, while on a bunch of errands with Colin, we get back in the car. I get a wet wipe and clean my hands. I ask Colin if he would like to clean his hands. Here's the conversation...

Me: Hey, Colin, you want to wipe off your hands?

Colin: No, I'm fine. 

Me: But your hands are dirty now because you've been in three different stores and touched everything in your path. 

Colin: No. I'm good. 

Me: Well, not me. My hands were dirty and I wanted them clean so I don't get sick. 

Colin: Sick?

Me: Yeah. Your hands are full of germs and if you don't clean them, the germs will make you sick. 

Colin: ....processing.... Okay. I'll wash them. 

I hand him the wet wipe I used. Still wet and full of soap. 

Colin: Did you use this already? slightly disgusted

Me: Yeah. But it's still good.

Colin: But if you already used it, then it has your germs on it and I'm gonna get your germs.

Me: scrambling.... Yeah, but that wipe has a disinfectant in it and my germs are already dead. 

Colin: Here mom. Hands me the wipe with two fingers and a little look of "whatever" on his face. 

Okay, we'll it's already Jan 3....so my clean slate is a little mussed. Really. What did you expect?