The Burp Rag Chronicles

In All Seriousness

Imagine, if you will, a calm, peaceful family enjoying lunch on a beautiful Sunday afternoon.

Everyone is laughing gaily at discussions, jokes and funny faces.

See is talking to Daddy about the importance of nuclear fusion in the suns output of solar energy when Ess interrupts, "See! See...! What do you get when..."

See holds her splayed-finger hand in a "talk to the hand" motion and replies, "Ess... I busy."

It took Daddy and I a moment to realize what she said. What 25 month old says this stuff???

A Morning With Ess

6:05 AM - Parental alarm rings to start day. Snooze button hit.

6:15 AM - Alarm rings again. Think about hitting it again. Get up and shuffle to bathroom to potty and brush dragon breath away.

6:18 AM - Start initial round of Operation Child Wakeup, which is met by slight stirrings and a small groan.

6:19 AM - Start Elixir of Life brewing. Because hoooooo boy, gonna need it.

6:20 AM - Decide if a lunch will be packed or if school lunch will be purchased.

6:21 AM - Round 2 of Operation Child Wakeup, which is met by rolling over and mumbling something about cereal. When asked what kind, "Mmmarrgghhfruityroundonesmmmmgggg," is the reply.

6:22 AM - Wash travel coffee mugs and make Jay's so he can go to work. Unlike the child, he is up and getting dressed for the day.

6:23 AM - Fetch child from her bed and seat her, sleeping, at the kitchen table with bowl of "fruityroundones" and orange juice. Decide that lunch will be purchased at the school.

6:24:09 AM - Pack healthy snack, get chastised for not including cheese-and-crackers as well as apple.

6:24:48 AM - No, not THOSE cheese-and-crackers. The ones with the little red knife-stick-thing.

6:25:10 AM - "Mom, did you know that I read my babies FOUR stories last night? They were AWESOME yesterday and they earned it. Then, I read myself a story, because I was also AWESOME and I earned it."

6:25:25 AM - "Wow, that's great honey. Eat your cereal."

6:25:27 AM - "Do you know what sound two O's make, Mom? They make the 'oooooooh' sound. But sometimes they make the 'uuhh' sound. If there is a silent E at the end, it makes the 'uuhh' sound. I don't really like words that have the 'uuhh' sound."

6:25:38 AM - "Me either. Eat your cereal."

6:25:42 AM - "Mom, yesterday I had fun at Burger King playing in the playplace. I am going to be SO GOOD this week and earn all my tickets so I can go somewhere else fun this weekend! I'm going to get all stickers at school, too! Miss G is going to be so proud of me! And you and Daddy, too. Because..."

6:26:01 AM - "EAT.YOUR.CEREAL. Please." Smile warmly at child.

6:26:03 AM - Child stares at parent as if to say, "Why, Mother, do you want to squelch my creativity?" Child takes a bite of cereal.

6:26:12 AM - After three crunches of cereal, child proceeds, with cereal in her mouth. "...because you guys want me to be good and listen to directions. Except I don't always do that and sometimes when Ella talks to me in class I talk back to her and then we both get in trouble because Miss G..."

6:26:21 AM - Mommy repeatedly bangs head on kitchen island.

6:28 AM - Ess knocks cup of orange juice over. Shuffles off to bathroom to clean up.

6:30 AM - Check on child, who has not yet come out of the bathroom. She is making faces at herself in the mirror and has not yet washed up from orange juice incident. Urge child to get a move on.

6:32 AM - Child emerges from bathroom. "Mommy, I had to poop which is why I took so long. Did you know that everyone poops? Even birds! And dogs. Sometimes there is dog poop in the grass when we go check the mail and it's really gross. I wish people would pick up their dog poops so that kids can play in the grass and not get poop on their shoes."

6:33 AM - It's way too early for poop talk. Tell child to go get dressed for school, clothes are on the couch. "I wanted to wear my RED shirt, mom! The one with the dog on it!!" Fetch red shirt.

6:34 AM - "Am I bringing lunch or buying it?" Buying it. "But Lauren is bringing lunch today and I told her I would, too!!" Take a deep breath and head over to kitchen and get bologna sandwich parts going. "Awww, Mom! Can't I have PBJ??" Another deep breath, count to ten, put bologna away and get jelly out of refrigerator.

6:36 AM - Child runs into kitchen with no pajamas on, but no clothing either. "Mom! I just saw the coolest thing! I can wiggle my big toe on its own without wiggling the other ones! Look!! I'm going to go show Dad!!"

6:36:45 AM - Bite tongue because "they are only this age once."

6:41 AM - Finally, child is dressed. Let's go brush your hair.

6:43 AM - Try to calm child down from crying jag because a knot was in her hair and it was accidentally not brushed gently enough. Try NOT to wake baby sister up, as bathroom shares a wall with nursery.

6:45 AM - Tell child to work on chore cards before school. The first chore is to make her bed.

6:52 AM - Check on her because there has been no peep from her. She is on the floor of her bedroom, brushing her stuffed cat, bed still unmade. "Mom, Tabby was crying because I left him in here by himself. Now I am trying to brush his fur. Will you take care of him while I am at school?" Of course. "I'll write down a list of instructions for you so that..." MAKE. YOUR. BED. Please. Smile warmly at child.

6:55 AM - Bed is made. Ask child to work on next chore. Brush teeth!

6:58 AM - Check on child. She is in the bath room with toothbrush, no toothpaste on it, using toothbrush as a microphone and singing "Twinkle Twinkle, Little Star" like a rock star. Starts putting toothpaste on brush as soon as she sees I am peeking in the bathroom.

7:00 AM - "Mom, I got toothpaste on my shirt." Change shirts to original shirt chosen before the red one with the dog on it.

7:01 AM - Ask child to get shoes on for school. "Can I wear my sparkly twinkly ones?" No, your teacher has asked us to not have you wear those to class because they distract everyone. "Aww, man! Okay, I'll wear these bright green ones! Grandma Ess got me these for Christmas, and I love them. They have so many bright colors. Mom, do you know what the upside-down V is for? It's... it's for.... it's for when you.... it's for when you forget to.... it's for when you forget to put a word in.... it's for when you forget to put a word in a sentence and you put that there and put the word you forgot on top of that so people know you forgot it." Close eyes and count to twenty.

7:03 AM - "Hahahahahahaha, Mom!!! I forgot to put socks on!! Tee-heeee!!" Grip coffee travel mug and consider pouring rum in it.

7:04 AM - "Mom! Where are my socks with toes??" Keep it down, I don't want to wake your sister up. They are all dirty, I will wash them today. "Okay, I'll wear these other socks. Look!! It has a hole in it!! Teee-heeeeeee!!!" Grab holey sock and get a pair out for child to put on. Usher child to front door to get shoes on. Again.

7:08 AM - "Whoops!! I meant to put on my bright green shoes, not these ones with the hearts on them! I'll change them..." NO. The heart ones are fine. "Okay!" Get your coat on. "Which one?" "The big one, it's cold outside. "Can I wear my gloves, too?" No, you and your sister play with them and now I can't find one of them. "Aww, can you buy me another pair?? It's cold outside!" 

7:12AM - Sign school folder and pack it in child's backpack. "Don't forget that this week is pizza week, Mom! We need to order pizza on Wednesday so that my school can get money for stuff like books and soccer balls!" Okay, thanks for telling me. "Our soccer balls at school are old and worn down. Lots of kids like to play with them and one time, I kicked the ball and it went WOOOOOSSSHHHHHH all the way to the other side of the playground!!! It was crazy!!" Fantastic, let's go get Daddy, it's time to go.

7:16 AM - Kiss Daddy and child, send them to work and school, respectively. Breathe a sigh of relief and exhaustion. Look at sink of dishes, head back to bed.

7:19 AM - Lie down, get comfortable, start to doze.

7:21 AM - "MOMMMMMYYY!! I want TOAST!!!" rings over the baby monitor.

The Argument

"See, I wanted the red Jojo washcloth!"

"NO! No Ess! Mine!!"

"See, I had it first!! Give it to me!"

*unintelligible screams and cries of anguish and frustration*

"See, here is the purple one - I want the red one! Here, take the purple."

"No, Ess!!! Mine!!!" *garbled cries, followed by splashes of water back and forth, and eventually giggling*

"I love you, See."

"I wuv you tyoo, Ess."

*pause*

"Let me see your butt, See."

I wish that I could document all the little things the girls say in their everyday non-sequiter life. 

If you must know, just prior to getting in the bath tub, See had a giant mess in her diaper so her backside was a bit red. I guess Ess wanted to see how it was doing or something - it was just an odd set of phrases. 

* * * * *

When I was young, I watched Bill Cosby - Himself. Even as a young child, I thought he was so ridiculously funny. No swearing, no nasty bits... just life. Funny, ironic, hilarious life.  

All children completely have brain damage. I firmly believe this. Every day of my life I generally wander around trying to make snacks or make meals for these short people, constantly yelling at someone to not yell at the other one (yes, I recognize the irony here). I shoo shorties from the kitchen area, they weave in and out of my legs as I try to shuffle the boiling pot of water to the sink to drain the pasta. "GET OUT OF HERE!! I will tell you when the food is ready!!"

Yeah, that works for approximately three minutes before someone else comes up to me asking what I am doing or when the food will be done. 

Brain damage, I tell you.

So if you haven't seen this video, go rent it. Or shoot, buy it. It's cheap and it's flippin' hilarious. Parents will especially appreciate it, and probably relate to 90% of the stuff in there.

Smell Like a Monster

I know we have all seen the Old Spice commercials that make us laugh...


Sesame Street has always been cutting edge with keeping up with the times. 2010 is no exception. :)

Macabre Theatre

I have decided that 2010 can just suck a rotten egg. Bar none, the year has got to be the worst in creation. And every single time I think it can't get any worse karma swoops in and lays a giant, steaming white blob of guano on my shoulder.

Saturday was fairly uneventful but Sunday is when the law was laid down. It started out okay, with the delivery of my new sectional couch - which I *love* thankyousomuchforasking. Then we deemed it The Day to Eat Lunch at a Restaurant afternoon, followed by a visit to a local duck pond so the girls could have some fun. :)

Let me start the "restaurant" segment with deciding where we wanted to go. This is a constant banter back and forth between Jay and me, with periodic interjections by Ess. 

Me: "What do you want to eat?"

Jay: "Mmm, what do you want?"

Ess: "I want... I want...... um, I want....." *looking around* "....um, I want... Mom, I thiiiiink I want...."

Me: "How about McAlister's Deli?"

Jay: "Mmm, we haven't been there in a long time. Sounds good!"

Ess: "...McDonald's!!"

(both Jay and I grimace)

Me: "Oooh, how about Chili's? We haven't been there in a while, and I liked their chicken crispy strip things."

Jay: "Okay, sure."

(record screech)

Right here, that "how about Chili's" bit was just about the stupidest thing I had said all day. 

So we walk in, and there is no wait. Yay! We get seated at a table that is mildly sloped so all the kiddie crayons keep rolling off when the girls put one down to use the other one. Not that the Rolling Crayon Phenomenon is unfamiliar to any parent, but we certainly don't need help from a slanty stable.

So Waitress comes up, takes our drink order. It takes about 10 minutes to get our drinks, which someone else brings over. Then another 10 minutes to take our order, which included an appetizer chips n' dip. Ten more minutes and she comes by the table and asks, "Oh, no one brought your chips?" Yes, they did. And we were so hungry we also at the bowl and paper liner. The kids are hungry and fidgety and irritable in general. Then Jay tells me the church website we help maintain has been hacked.

AWESOME.

I really do not understand this. They take over the front page, put their silly "we hate Israel" banner showing the red crescent moon and a gun. How ridiculous is that? As if one of our parishoners will see that and think, "Oh, golly gee whiz! I forgot that 'becoming militant islamist' was on my To-Do list for today! Whew, thanks for reminding me with an ugly, violent message!" Not only that, but our site gets about 400 visitors a month, give or take. Not really high-traffic. :P

So we wait another 30 minutes for our food. Really? How long does it take to make two adult entrees and two kids entrees (corn dog and a grilled cheese, no less!). We eat, Jay tries to fix the problem from his iPhone with no luck. So after we finish eating (a total of about 1 hour and 15 minutes) we skidaddle home to fix it.

Of course, Ess is asking when we get to go feed the ducks. So I tell her that we will go tomorrow since she is off school for Columbus Day, and that daddy has to fix something for church. M-E-L-T-D-O-W-N.

Day 2!

I pack up the kiddos with anticipation of getting a book I need at a library that is a little further away than usual (but... that is the closest one that actually HAD it), then off to the duck pond after. We pull up to the library at about 10:45, and the doors are locked, people are all waiting in the parking lot. I check the website and they don't open until noon. NOON. What library opens that late?? 

I remembered from the search for the book the night before that there were about two copies at the BIG library downtown. I had never been there, so I thought it would be fun to take the girls. There I go, thinking again.

I punch the address into Gartha (that's what we call the Garmin GPS thing, thanks to Jay's aunts) and we head downtown. I find a parking lot, figure out how to use the prepaid parking machine that I'd never seen before. Walk up and down the street, not seeing library. Back and forth, back and forth... up and down the street. Goodness, San Antonio's library is what they dubbed "Enchilada Red," it should be here! I walk over to the only red building I could find.

Mmm, nope. That would be a detention center. 

So I poke my head into the Fire Marshall building and ask the receptionist where the library is. She chuckles and tells me that I am on the wrong street, that it's about 12 blocks THAT WAY on Soledad. I had punched in the street Dolorosa when I put the address into Gartha.

(slams head into desk)

So we get to the library, it's already noon and See is starting to get hungry. We grab the book I need on the second floor, then go to the third floor where I learn that my snappy camera is broken, See is a book-grabber-misplacer, Ess is a bookworm and a talks-a-lot. Trying to corral See without tears, screaming, tantrums...not happening. She's hungry, so I give her a snack and her water, and you'd think I'd given her hydrochloric acid and soylent green. Enough! Strap her in the stroller (meltdown ensues), head to the checkout station, struggle with exorcist toddler while trying to keep Ess from running out the door and pestering people trying to study.

High-tail it to the parking garage!! Change See's diaper (more wonderful screaming), get them buckled in, get outta Dodge. On the way home (mostly highway driving) they both fall asleep. I think that it would be nice to stop and have some lunch at McD's or something (again, shudder) and then go Duckie Feeding.

Just then, the rain starts.

This is seriously an FML moment. Forget ALL of this, I am going home. I pull into the drive way, turn the car off, remote open the doors. Naturally the noise wakes See up, so I take her inside ad put her down for a nap successfully. I come back out to get Ess, to which I am greeted with a frantic, "MOMMY! YOU SAID WE WERE GOING TO SEE THE DUCKS!!!"

"Well, it started to rain on our way home, and you guys fell asleep. So I thought we'd come home for lunch and see how the rain goes. So why don't you go lie down for a little bit while I make lunch?"

Her head spins around like a top, and she vocalizes that she "IS NOT SLEEEPY!!!"

It's all good though, my conniption made her quiet and head to her room. 

Jay took my camera apart to see if it was a simple fix, and it's not - one of the glass pieces inside shattered. I loved that camera. I feel like I am missing a limb without my snappy camera. I guess on payday we'll have to get another one. Yay, a fun, large, unexpected hemorrhage of money. Whee!

 

A Haiku. Or Six.

Had good intentions
taking family to Sea World.
Father's Day outing!

Sprayed sunscreen on kids,
got all the nooks and crannies
 on the husband, too.

But as any moms know,
we forget to help ourselves
and end up like this:

 

So in pain I sit,
 with blisters forming on skin
 Peeling like a snake.

Learn from my mistake!
Slather yourself before them,
Cuz you WILL forget.

To this tale take heed,
  Waterparks are not my friend
Not just for the suit.

 

So, yeah. Father's Day = Loads of fun! Oh, and pain! Let's not forget pain.

I was wearing a tank top when we were slathering up for the day and neither Jarrod nor I thought about getting my back. And, didn't think about it when I was at Lost Lagoon. Nor when I took off the aforementioned tank top. 

But I did think of it as I sat with C on a lounge chair, and when I went to sit up and peeled my skin off the plastic chair back, and when it burned. It totally crossed my mind then. About four and a half hours later. It also crosses my mind every second of the day now. Mostly when I can't even wear a bra without serious pain.

I do admit that it's getting better. I only cringe in pain after about two minutes in direct sunlight instead of two seconds. And when I took S to swim lessons this afternoon, it was HOT. Even in the shade. As C sat in her stroller turning an adorable shade of pink (yes, underneath an umbrella! Learnedmylesson, kthnxbai!) I looked down at my decolletage-area and thought, "Ugh, beads of sweat. And I took a shower this morning, even."

Only... those weren't beads of sweat. Those were pockets. Of pus. BLISTERS!!!!

Hundreds of teeny, tiny micro-blisters line my chest, and presumably my back. When I get home, I grab a hand held mirror and... yep! There they are! 

Sigh. Can someone shoot me? Please? I am white as a sheet of 24# computer paper. I should know better right? But it's seriously holds true. We worry and fret over making sure that everyone else is covered completely that we let ourselves slip aside. 

I think I learned my lesson. I fear the giant gaseous orb in the sky.

Never So Alive

Sydney said two things yesterday that had me rolling with laughter.

First, after we came home from gymnastics, it was a lovely day.  A little chilly, but plenty nice enough to go out and play.  So I took Cameron and put her in her baby swing and Sydney swung on the long double swing thingy beside us.  She's learned how to pump and get herself going really high - which is great for me since I don't need to push her anymore.

So I'm swinging Cameron and Syd's swinging high to the sky when she yells, "DAAAAD!  I'VE NEVER FELT SO ALIVE!!!"

Man, I about died.  I tried to get her to say it again on video, but it always sounded forced.

Then later that night after changing Cameron's diaper, the two girls and I were still in Cam's room when I said that Cameron was "a smart cookie."

Sydney replied, in that semi-patient, condescending tone that her future husband will grow to loathe, "Dad, she's not a cookie!  If Cameron was a cookie, she would eat her own self and then you'd only have ONE kid!!"

I don't know from whence the child's wellspring of creativity flows, but I sincerely hope she's able to leverage it in her career path.

The Art of War

"The general who wins the battle makes many calculations in his temple before the battle is fought. The general who loses makes but few calculations beforehand."

- Sun Tzu, "The Art of War"

I knew this day was coming, therefore I was prepared for it. I did not expect it to come this early; nevertheless, I was not caught unawares.

The first shot in the battle of wills was a fountain of tears from a little girl's bedroom.

"Would you go in there and tell her to stop that?" my wife said, indicating the agonized wailing filling the house.

We're just minutes home from H-E-B, the local supermarket chain, with our weekly consumer foraging.  On the trip home, both children had fallen asleep.  Mommy had taken supertiny to her room for a nap, which was well underway. Big Tiny - a.k.a. Biggie Smalls - a.k.a. Sydney - was also in need of a "rest", since she would be going to church with Grandma later.

This did not sit well with Stubborn McBullhead. 

I go into her room and rationally explain to her that she needs the rest so she doesn't fall asleep at church, that she doesn't have to sleep, she just needs to rest and stay in her room. None of this pleases her, but it stops the wailing and derails any further meltdown.  I leave the room, telling myself (but not her) that as soon as we're done sorting the groceries away, she can come out.

With the food mostly parceled and placed, I go in to retrieve the small one.  I am greeted with an ugly face and an absolutely abhorrent attitude.

"I'm just going to run away from home and not live here anymore."

Oh yes she did.

It was maybe a month or so ago that I'd been having the discussion with someone about this.  The consensus was that the most successful strategy for dealing with a threat of this magnitude was to call the bluff.  That's what my mom did.  That's what Lynn's mom did.  That's what all the other parents with which I had conversed had done, and had experienced themselves.

And thus it had come to pass in our home.

"How come?" I asked.

"Because I'm not going to be your friend anymore."

"Okay, then," I said.  "Would you like me to help you pack?"

There was a moment's hesitation - just the briefest flash - before she consented. 

After that moment, everything started happening so fast, I can only remember feelings and impressions.  I retrieved her backpack from the front entryway and informed her mother of the situation.  With a big smile on my face.  I went back in to her room, where she remained obstinately on the bed. 

I asked her if she would like me to pack her some panties?  She did.
Socks?  Yes.  Pants, shirts? Yes, yes.

While this is all happening, I'm maintaining a very somber, disappointed countenance, but am completely committed to my charade.  She, on the other hand, is starting to show signs of second thoughts.  She breaks down in wracking sobs, "I'm really gonna miss you guys!"

"We're going to miss you too!"

But she still insists that

1. She's not going to live here anymore.
2. It's because I'm not going to be her friend anymore, which is because:
   1. She's not going to live here anymore, because
   2. I'm not going to be her friend anymore

Extrapolate that, you get a nice big circle, of course; hey, we're dealing with a four year old. 

I hand her her backpack, and we walk to the hallway.  I get my shoes on and tell her I'll walk her out.  She's not sobbing anymore, but is still crying pretty hard.  She says goodbye to Mommy, who is putting on one hell of an act.  Mommy says she'll miss her, and goodbye.

We go outside and walk down to the sidewalk in front of our house.  She's still crying.  I ask for a kiss goodbye, which I get.  And a hug. 

I ask where she's going.  Her first thought is her friend Skylar's house, but then she decides her main objective is Grandma Sandy's house in Oklahoma.  It's pretty far, but I point her in the direction - roughly north up the sidewalk. She wants to take her scooter, but I tell her she can't - if she's not going to be here anymore, the scooter will be for Cameron.

Eventually, off she goes.  I think this image will be burned into my head forever.  Her tiny body in her new blue-and-brown dress, with her oversized Dora backpack, striding purposefully down the street, pausing every 30 feet to see if I'm following.  I'm not.  Every time she looks back I just wave. 

She makes it about three quarters of the way to the end of the street before she stops and turns around.

"DAD! COME WITH ME!" she yells.

"NO! I LIVE HERE!" I shout back.

"BUT IF YOU DON'T COME WITH ME I'LL BE LONELY!"

We shout back and forth more of the same for awhile, but eventually I wave her back.  She runs - full throttle - back to the house.  So fast I worry she's going to trip and fall and the whole exercise will be derailed by injury. 

But she makes it back, where she continues trying to get me to come with her because she'll be lonely if I don't come.  I say I'm sorry, but this is where I live and I'm not running away.  I ask her where she's going to eat and sleep.  She's not sure.  But eventually I tell her that if she's going to get to Grandma Sandy's she better start now or it'll get too dark (hey, eventually she'll get it, but for now the parameters of the exercise are determined by the bounds of her knowledge and experience.)

I think she got a little more frustrated this time, event though she insisted she was going to miss us so much; when she left, she ran up the street.  She stopped again, though, like she'd hit some kind of psychic forcefield, in the same place. 

"COME ON, DAD, COME WITH ME!" she shouts.

This time, I pull out the big guns:  I wave back at her, turn, and walk back towards the house.  The message is clear - this isn't a game.  I'm not following.  I'm going on with my life without her.

In reality, as soon as I'm behind the Escape, I duck down and try to watch her through the windows. What I hear is an anguished scream - like when you turn the life sucking machine up to 50 - mixed with the sound of small shoes running back towards me.

"DAD! NO! DAD!" As soon as I feel like she might be able to spot me, I bend over and pick up a rock, then toss it in the hole where the bouganvilla used to be.  As she approaches, I turn and look back as if surprised to see her. 

About that time, the garage door opens and Mommy comes out, ready to plant our new climbing roses in place of the old thorny bouganvilla.  This time Syd wants to take her bike, but no, we're giving that to Cameron, too.

We go around and around about how much we'll miss her and how sorry we are that she feels that she has to go, but that she should probably get a move on, until the words we were waiting for:

"I'm not gonna run away anymore, guys..."

At that point, the love opens up, we're all smiles and celebration.  I ask her if she wants to go unpack her bag.  She breaks down sobbing, but nods.

We go into her room and I just hold her and rock while she cries, but I tell her how happy we are that she's staying.  Eventually she gets all the cries out, and we unpack her backpack and come back out to join Mommy.  The new rosebush is in and Mommy goes to get a bucket of water for it.  "Can I watch you water it, Mommy?"

"Of course!"

"Okay, but don't get any water on my new pretty dress!"

Afterward, Sydney and I start to trim out the plumbago - the original intent is to yank it all out, roots and all. We thought it was dead! Turns out there's new stuff growing just under the surface.  So I cut and the two of us start stuffing the old dead stuff into a trash can.

And what a change. This girl is 100% sweetness and light.  She cycles phrases like a pull-string toy from the 50's.

"I really love you guys!"  "I'm so glad I'm going to stay here!"  "I would have missed you guys so much if I left!"  "I really love helping you, Daddy!"  "This is so much fun!" 

Seriously, I was turning diabetic from all the sweetness.

But it all worked out in the end.  The rest of the evening went much better, she was good at church for Grandma, and now she knows to be careful what she wishes for.

Because she just might get it!

Exactly

Mommy captured a great expression today. :)

What a Week

This has been quite the week - my account being disabled by Facebook was just the start. I still don't know what I did or if I can get my account back or not. I miss it, I feel so out of the loop. :( Dang it, Facebook - get to my email and help me understand! Give me back my darn account! *scowls*

And now Spud is sick. With what, I don't know - last Friday she threw up, but then everything was fine. Then Tuesday she came home from school and took a nap which is VERY unlike her. When she got up, her temperature was 103! We've been able to successfully manage it with Tylenol and Motrin, but it'll go down for a while and after the medicine wears off, it's back up. She's acting fine, so I think it's just a wait-and-see.

But no one likes to see their baby sick. :(

So we've been laying low, yesterday we only went out briefly to get some more medicine for Spud and a quick drive-thru stop at Burger King for a special treat lunch. Which brings me to my next point: Spud cracks me RIGHT up.

We discuss the entire way what she wants from Burger King, chicken or cheeseburger. This is the same conversation we have every time we go to any sort of fast-food place. Today, she declared that she wanted sweet little Krabby Patties, and that ketchup AND mustard were okay because mustard is her favorite.

This is an out and out lie.

I keep trying her with mustard, because I suspect that, like ketchup, she will eventually like it. It's got a heavy vinegar base so... come on! What kid doesn't take a little coaxing with ketchup, then begin to put it on everything under the sun?

So I order her the Burger Shots (yep, that is what a "sweet little Krabby Patty" is!) with no special instructions, and we head home. Apparently they come with ketchup, mustard, AND pickles. I know she will freak out at the pickles, so those come off. Here goes, two little cheeseburgers head her way.

Hey! She's eating it! And enjoying it! I dice up some pears and give them to her as a side... chomp chomp chomp! Wheeee! Is this the turning point? Has my daughter made the final transformation into her father and has made mustard her new love?

Then, after all but about two kid-sized bites she declares to me, "Mommy, I decided that I do not like mustard. Can you take it off? It's too sour."

I laughed and told her to eat her pears.

So Miss Cameron is standing on her own for brief intervals! Most of the time she does it when she is distracted by something with her hands (a toy, the TV, her sister), but she is on her way, people!

Shudder.