Our little Tom Sawyer

Image via Wikipedia

“Oh come, now, you don’t mean to let on that you like it?”

The brush continued to move.

“Like it? Well I don’t see why I oughtn’t to like it. Does a boy get a chance to whitewash a fence every day?” 

That put the thing in a new light. Ben stopped nibbling his apple. Tom swept his brush daintily back and forth—stepped back to note the effect—added a touch here and there—criticized the effect again—Ben watching every move and getting more and more interested, more and more absorbed. Presently he said:“Say, Tom, let me whitewash a little.”    ~ The Adventures of Tom Sawyer

R had come home a day early to help out with the aftermath of the accident and to provide some much needed huggles and moral support. He got home around 5:00pm and E was very excited to see him. Especially since Daddy always brings a present.

After we had our hellos and hugs and ate a bit of dinner we settled in to relax on the couch together. E decided he wanted to do his big floor puzzle which is black & white on one side so that it can be colored with crayons.

Does your kid name-call?

Ugh - it finally happened.

I was playing cars with my son one evening last week and discussing how his day at preschool was. He is pretty open to different friends but I have really noticed his personality growing by leaps and bounds since he started at 'big boy school'.

For the most part the changes are all very positive. He's displaying way more imaginative play, his motor skills are improving as a result of having a larger outdoor area to run around in each day and he is getting much more independent. He has made some more friends which, to be fair, was easier due to following around one of his besties who has already attended this school for about a year.

Throat Punch Thursday. Period.

This is my very first Throat Punch Thursday post ever. Not that I haven't kicked a few people or things in the junk before but this is actually me pissed off at Thursday itself.

Especially this Thursday.

1. Sick Kid

My son is sick. It started with allergies which then developed into a chest cold. Ninja Poke to the Eye, Cold.

2. Period

I have it. Which means irritability, pimples and back cramps. And worse - I'm obviously not pregnant. Thanks for being a dick, period.

3. Musical Doodle

That dang Musical Doodle song from Spongebob is stuck in my head. I really need to turn the tv off after dropping off E in the morning so that I don't end up seeing random cartoons with catchy songs.

4. Rain

It's supposed to rain today. Which is cool, because I like rain, but not cool because my husband has not covered the spot on the damaged car where the door no longer meets the roof, so it will probably leak.

So suck it, Thursday. Soon you'll be gone and Friday will take your place. And Friday sounds like a way cooler dude.

Image via Wikipedia
Painting entitled Thursday (Tomorrow Will Be Friday)

From now on I will be saving most of my rant-like posts for Thursdays, so tune in there if you want to grab your pitchforks and satisfy your need to join a lynch mob.


Once I have a few days to myself again (next week) I will be doing my full transfer over to Wordpress - stay tuned for the official post!  


Don't forget to join the Scribblezen Community on  Scribblesaurus on Facebook and Twitter so that you don't miss a thing! 

That was &#@$ing Weird

Yesterday morning as I was loading E into his car seat for our drive to preschool, we had a little conversation about the weather. It went like this:

Breastfeeding in Public

Image via Wikipedia

This morning I read the story on Strollerderby about Kasey Kahne and his tweet (find it here) wherein he expressed his dislike for a naked breastfeeding boob hanging out at a supermarket.

I gather it wasn't a very nice boob (in his opinion) and perhaps if it had been a gorgeous, shapely 20-something woman with beautiful breasts wandering around naked, squeezing the fruit maybe he wouldn't have been so put out. But who knows?

It got me to thinking about the whole debate regarding breast-feeding in public. As a mother who breastfed my son for about 9 months I will tell you right now that I fed that boy in public. Yes I did.

Before any of the hardcore breast-feeding advocates bitch about me only sticking in there for 9 months, you should know that my son decided to wean himself at that time and unlike some other mothers I know personally, I decided not to force the issue by jamming my nipple in his mouth until he either suckled or starved.  So don't bother sending me emails about how we should breastfeed for anywhere from 3 to 7 years because I will just print them out and use them for playtime with the paper shredder.

This post is not a debate on the health benefits of breastfeeding. This is a post about common decency.

This might come as a shock, hippy mamas, but NO ONE WANTS TO SEE YOUR BOOB except your infant, yourself and your partner. And every now and then a doctor but that is their job. They may or may not actually want to see it.

They make these things called cover ups, shawls, blankies, and even shirts that allow you to breastfeed discreetly in public. Look them up. Peruse a few breastfeeding supply websites. Buy one. Make your own. Heck, you probably already have a tea towel laying around - use that.

I can't count the number of times I sat in a restaurant booth with my jacket over my son and my chest while he fed. I did not just drag my milk-sodden boob out while he slurped away in front of the family next table over.

Here's another tip - while your mommy friend probably doesn't give a crap if you whip it out on her couch while over for a visit (I certainly don't care), she probably doesn't want her child or husband to see it. Because she has enough parenting going on without having to explain breastfeeding to her kids and her husband likely feels uncomfortable with his wife's friend's boob on display.

Image via Wikipedia
This seal is nursing her pup. In public! ;)

I frankly don't even mind if a little swell of bare breast is poking out. Who cares - it's nothing that doesn't show in a bikini. Recently a momma friend of mine was over with her new little girl for a visit and breastfed several times, a few feet away from me. Never once did I see her boob. It can be done, people!

It's about respecting yourself and those around you. Find a balance. Please.

Breastfeeding is a beautiful thing and a lasting bond between mother and infant so lets keep it that way. Tommy the homeless guy on the corner, little Sally at the playground and my SRD don't need to be involved.

And keep this in mind - if you refuse to be discreet while nursing in public, you just might be the ones ruining that right completely for the rest of us.

I'm sick of Christmas.

Wait, I love Christmas. Before it gets here. Then I love Christmas Day. And then I just want it to go away so I can get back to normal. 

Since Ender's preschool is closed until January 3, however, I must endure another whole week of finding things to do with him so that he doesn't get bored. 

Normally it's not such a big deal to just head out and play with him at a park since we are lucky enough to live in a warmer climate. I feel the pain of all you moms out there who might be stuck inside the house the whole time. But I'm *tired*. All the rich, sweet, fatty (and delicious!) food, all the excitement of Santa coming, the mess in the house, the incessant demands to play with each and every new toy several times a day - it's exhausting!

Mommy needs a nap, Christmas. So could you just keep it down and come back next December? K thanks. 

Oh - and New Years? I'll let you know if I'm free. I might be, uh, booked this year. At home. In bed. Sleeping.

Kiss a stranger for me.

xoxo

Image via Wikipedia

Shit that Happens in the Middle of the Night

I've been having insomnia again. Last night as I was up creeping through the house in the dark of night I realized just exactly how weird it is to be up when no one else is. Mostly because it's pitch black in here. I feel like if I turn a light on I'm giving in to being awake for hours.

The R Word

When I was a little kid we called people 'retarded'. It wasn't meant to be hurtful to actual mentally challenged people. We just didn't think of it that way. It was sometimes meant to point out when someone did something out of ignorance, which refers to the state of being uninformed.

Stay at Home What-Now?

Hello - my name is Tracy and I'm a stay at home mom. 

I've been a SAHM for three years, four months and 2 days. Phew! It's good to get that off my chest.

My whole adult life and throughout my pregnancy I was 100% certain that I would return to work after my one year maternity leave in Canada. We even toyed with the idea of me returning after 9 months off. My workplace was amazing and filled with wonderful people.

So how did I become a stay at home mom anyways?

Image via Wikipedia

You ate the LAST Oreo? Choose your weapon, Sir!

My husband (R) has been working a ton lately including a lot of late nights or heading out of town on business. My son, E, has been very sensitive to the Daddy-absences over the past few weeks.

The little guy is normally not much of a stickler for protocol, so a five minute warning is enough to ease his transitions (moving from one activity to another) but when he gets into a funk over Daddy being away or hits a developmental milestone he does a complete about face and routine becomes all important.

During these crunch times when I'm already at the end of my single-parenting, work-widowed rope, if you screw with our plans and upset our boat you will likely be staring at the business end of a 3 year old's hissy fit and then I have to kill you. I'm not kidding, I will cut you.

Image via Wikipedia

Part of said routine is that E and I have a little cookie and milk snack every day when he comes home from preschool. So when one day this week we came home to find that someone (not me!) had eaten the last Oreo, the proverbial shit hit the fan.

Too tired to deal with a spazzing kid, I ended up baking gingerbread cookies which was really fun aside from the little beads of sweat popping out of my forehead at the possibility of E remembering he wanted Oreos. Please Flying Spaghetti Monster, let the gingerbread be enough!

Before you raise an eyebrow at my fear of a three year old child, you Judgey Judgersons, let me say that I don't usually feel that vulnerable to his demands. However, this day I was super tired, worn out and looking to avoid any hassle altogether, from anyone.

Once I had him settled in with some cars to play with, you know what happened next! Using the most powerful means available to a nagging wife - text and email - I took all my frustration out on R, who was probably sitting in a meeting blissfully ignorant of just how shit things had turned at home because he ate the last freaking Oreo!!! Blarg! Eventually (in an attempt to stop the barrage) he wisely suggested that he would, late at night and on his way home, stop at the store to pick up more Oreos.

Since he was stopping anyways I asked him to pick up some dark chocolate for making 'Healthy Fudge' this weekend. (Look for a post on Sunday with the recipe, it's really good.) He usually picks up anything else we need while he's at it.

The next morning I woke up and stumbled into the kitchen to put on some coffee before my boys got up. On the counter was placed a single bag from the grocery store. As I peered inside I saw two packs of Oreos - double-stuffed - and four bars of dark chocolate. That's it. Nothing else.

So naturally, when my husband sauntered out of the bedroom and flopped onto the couch, I pointed at the bag of cookies and chocolate and asked, "Did the cashier ask if you were on your period? Seriously, this looks like a PMS supply kit. Is there something about you I should know?"

He laughed, snorting a little. Which I LOVE. I really do, I'm not even being sarcastic. R has the best over-tired laugh of anyone I've ever met, bar none.

And then in reply he said, "I just figured you'd need it soon...."

Well played, sir.


Do you have little rituals that you do with your child? Or with your husband? Do you use routine to save yourself if your husband travels or works long hours? What happens when your routine gets shot to hell?

Word Battle - Potty Accident

Today's word battle is brought to you by the wonderful Ender. 

When I picked Ender up from school yesterday he was conspicuously wearing the spare pants and underwear that had been tucked into his backpack and stored in his classroom cubby.

I was hoping against hope that some pant destroying tragedy such as spilled juice, a knocked over water activity, half a Santa cut-out stuck to his butt from the art table or anything, really, that doesn't involve bodily fluids would turn out to be responsible.

The fact-finding mission went like this:

Me: Hey buddy - how come you're wearing your spare joggies?

E:  I peed in my pants.

Me: How come? 

E: I had an accident.

Me: Ok, honey, I get that, but why?

E: Because I didn't go to the bathroom to pee.

Me: I see where you're going with that. But why did you go in your pants instead of in the potty? 

E: Oh. It was too bright outside.

Pardon?


Me: Too bright out? I don't understand...

E: I was outside playing and I had to pee and when I looked at the door to the classroom, to go inside to go to the potty, the sun was very very bright in my eyes and I could not see the door! So I couldn't go inside the door to pee.

Me: So - you couldn't get inside to pee because the sun was hurting your eyes?

E: Yes, mommy. It was very very bright.

Me: Well. I have to give you points for creativity. But tomorrow, just ask a teacher to help ok?

E: Ok mommy. Maybe they will have sunglasses or something.

Let's hope...

What is the funniest or most creative reason or excuse your little one has given for having an accident? There has to be some good ones out there and I want to hear them!

They have no idea what they've done.

I was responding to an invitation through an online event site and after I pressed 'rsvp' this offer popped up.

If you know me at all you know how elated I am about the top right card....

The possibilities are endless! This might be the best thing that's happened to me all day.

Why we don't have an Elf on the Shelf this year

It seems like everyone is doing the Elf on the Shelf again this year. The blogosphere and twitter are full of the sightings, antics and locations of local elves who are all delighting their respective child targets. I say targets because while the elves are most definitely there to amuse and provide a bit of Christmas magic, they are also there as overseers in Santa's Army of Naughty or Nice.

Cover of Elf on the Shelf

You're thinking that I am going to go on a big rhetorical discussion of the rights and wrongs of using toys to frighten and trick your children into good behavior. Well you're wrong!  Haha!

I am 100% behind using any ammo a parent can get to teach good from bad, or 'naughty from nice'. Elves are inherently the perfect wingman for parents during a season that tends to bombard our children with sugar, flashing lights, parties, music and joy. Not that there is anything wrong with those things - they just tend to make our kids explode in a dizzying whirlwind of glee and destruction.

However (yep, here it is) the Elf on the Shelf is not part of our arsenal here in the Scribblesaurus house. For we have a tradition of three invisible elves that sit in trees, perch on fences and come in every night after Ender's bedtime for a report on his behavior that day.

E's Christmas wish list hangs in the balance - for a day of good behavior he gets a star on his Santa chart, for every bad day he gets an 'X'. Let's face it, there aren't many actual Xs that make in on the chart. As we get nearer to Christmas the stars must outnumber the Xs if he wants the elves to deliver his list to Santa and recommend fulfillment.

Our elves are named Stinky, Guts and Babybutt. They were first discovered and named by my niece and nephew. Originally it was just Stinky and Guts, but when Ender came along they needed a third cohort to head over to our place to keep an eye on E. And since E was mostly a naked little monkey who refused to wear pants (or should I say 'is' - we're working on that) his elf was christened 'Babybutt'.

This year, since my niece and nephew are older and kind of know that Santa is *gasp* fictional, all three elves have come south for the winter. Needless to say, E is on his best behavior and when he slips I have only to mention the three spies and he shapes right up.

Besides having our own personal squad of tattle-tales there is one more reason why we have no Elf on the Shelf. That reason has a name - it is 'Kyssa'. Kyssa the dog. Kyssa the ninja. Kyssa the force behind a hundred methodically annihilated stuffed toys. Kyssa who can find her victim in the middle of the night from hiding places she should never even imagine.

BEHOLD!
And that's an industrial strength dog toy.
Imagine what she could do to a squishy elf!

The last thing I need is for her to use her super powers to pin down our Elf, pluck out both eyes and his nose and disembowel him with cold precision, leaving his ragged empty sack of a body sprawled in a mountain of sucked on stuffing in the middle of the living room floor for Ender to discover upon waking.

Could you imagine? How would we even begin to explain that? No, the risk is far too great. For this year, while the terror of the night wanders our house and our invisible elf detachment peek through our windows, we will remain one of the few households without the magic of the Elf on the Shelf.

I will enjoy the Elf's antics from afar, through your posts and pictures and tweets. May your Elf make it to Christmas morn.

Related articles

• Why didn't your elf on a shelf move overnight (wiki.answers.com)

Swearing is GOOD for you! No lie.

I'm an admitted potty-mouth. I swear like a trucker when I get annoyed. Not always the F-bomb either. I like to make up new swear words and I'm not going to list them here but believe me, they're pretty great.

I've often thought about how I should cut back on the expletives. I don't use them around my son unless something really crazy happens and then I immediately cover it up by pretending that I said something that sounds similar to the curse word. I've actually become quite a pro in the art of swear-diversion.

Considering that I have probably cut my swearing out by about 70% I'm fairly certain that my child won't go around telling his teacher to 'eff off' or anything like that. The day he falls of a monkey bar and exclaims "Gah! Shit!" I will die a thousand shame-filled deaths.

So can swearing be good for you? Read on for the answer.

Listen up husbands! It matters when you are late.

"Honey - I'm gonna be a bit late"

SKREEEE!

How often have you told your stay at home husband/wife/partner, "I'll be home at 6pm" and then at around 6:20pm called or texted or skyped to let them know that you are 'just now stepping out of the office to head home'? Once a week? Once a month? More? Or worse yet, do you wait until your significant other calls YOU 30 minutes after you should have arrived only so that you can tell them you didn't have 30 seconds to step out of a meeting to inform them you'd be an hour late?

You may think that the partner stuck at home (with the kids who want to go to the park, dinner not ready, the pet that needs to pee and a delivery man at the door) having a complete mental breakdown because you are 'only 20 minutes late' is over-reacting. And in some cases that may be true.

How do you cope when your husband travels?

My husband travels for business and every month or two he is gone for anywhere from a few days to a week.

He is currently in Seattle (haha it's raining there) and this time around I zeroed in on the pattern of behavior that I go through each and every time he travels.

Read through my stages of being a temporary single parent after the jump.

10 Reasons why you should try to have all your colds before you have kids.

With cold and flu season upon us and having fallen victim myself (yep, I'm still whining) I got to thinking that a cold is ridiculously easy to manage before you have kids so you really should go ahead and try to do all your sick-getting ahead of time.  Here is a list of 10 reasons you might want to think about getting your colds out of the way now:

1. You can sit around and cough at any place in your house that you deem appropriate. Anywhere. For as long as it takes.
2. You can lay on the couch with your feel-better accessories all day. All day.
3. You only have to get out of bed to pee or grab another package of kleenex.
4. You don't have to be woken in the morning by someone jumping on your tender lungs.
5. You don't have to sterilize yourself and feed other people.
6. You don't have to go to the park. Or outside at all for that matter.
7. You don't have to hide in the garage during midnight coughing fits for fear of waking the kid.
8. Your dog won't get sick of having to spend time with you in quarantine.
9. If your throat hurts really bad you don't have to talk.
10. You don't risk peeing a little from coughing, sneezing or blowing your nose.

That last one was probably a little more mommy-related but I don't want to be gender racist so I'm not going to point that out...shit.

Image via Wikipedia.
That guy looks crazy mad.

Pure sick, pet & husband hugging, book reading, puddle splashing, pregnant getting, snuggy wearing awesomeness. Or whatever.

I'm not feeling very artsy, rant-like (yes that's a word I just made it up) or coherent today so I thought I'd just post a rundown of random stuff that's happened in the past 24 hours. Read on at your own risk. You should probably grab a coffee or a drink or something first.

Puddle Jumping - Friday afternoon Ender and I went splashing. He loved it and I stood out on the street taking photos and vids of him in the puddle, babbling away at him with my wheezy sick voice. Several people went by, none said a word. They were boring.

Snuggies - I discussed the likelihood of owning multiple snuggies with a stranger on twitter.

Breakdown - Battling strep is really hard when you are single parenting because your husband works all the time and your toddler has absolutely no concept of how close to the breaking point mommy might actually be. So there I sat, crying because I didn't want to get up and switch the milk I already got for E into a new glass that had blue on it. The yellow glass was perfectly fine and I couldn't even really explain it to him because whispering doesn't get through to an insistent preschooler! Then I cried because I'm SICK and frustrated until my little hero put his arms around me and said 'don't cry mommy.... are you fine now?'. Then I felt like a shit for making a 3 year old feel like he had to comfort me. I'm SO winning mommy of the year this time around. Plus I secretly felt a lot better for gaining the empathy of a 3 year old and convinced myself I've done something right in raising him.

Conception - Rich came home late two nights in a row to a sweaty, feverish, lung-hacking mess of a wife waving a positive ovulation test at him. I was super considerate and left my t-shirt on to contain the vapo-rub and kept my filthy strep mouth shut while he squeezed his eyes shut and managed to do his part. Yeah - it was pretty hot. Rich said he hopes we get pregnant so he can always remember how beautiful the moment was. He is such a smartass!

Forced Pet Cuddling - No one else would enter the bedroom last night. My family sort of put me on quarantine. But I was feeling alone and needy so I ordered Kyssa to come up on the bed and cuddle with me for a kind of forced-spooning while I mumbled about how she's the only one who loves me or something. She can't complain though because when I was pregnant with Ender she curled around my tummy every chance she got. Tit for tat, dog.  Tit for tat. (now a bunch of pervs are going to land here through dirty search terms...)

The Art of Being Offensive - I posted a status update on Facebook that said "So boys in the locker room are the new altar boys". Holy tumbleweeds Batman. I expected some sort of debate over that but I think it was SO offensive that everyone just did that cat thing from Puss in Boots.

Borderline Awkward Hugging - This morning I accosted Rich in the kitchen for a hug. He felt sorry for his pathetic whiney wifebot so he wrapped his arms around me in an attempt to make me feel better. So then I just stayed that way. Hugging. For quite a while - waiting to see how long it would be before he felt it would be appropriate to break contact. Did I mention he's quite a trooper?

Preschoolers can outsmart you. All the time - I've been trying to read this book called How to Talk So Kids Will Listen & Listen So Kids Will Talk by Adele Faver & Elaine Mazlish. I got to a section this morning about a woman who puts a sign up on the entrance to her kitchen to keep her little ones out so she can make dinner. I decided to solicit Ender's opinion and said "Hey E, if I put up a sign that says 'Kitchen Closed Until Dinner' will you stay out of the kitchen?". He laughed and sort of regarded me with that expression that people get when they look at retarded kittens and said "No mommy, but I can make a sign that says 'Kitchen Open' for you.".  From the mouths of babes.

A bunch of other crap happened but that's all I have time for right now. Uber-awesome Rich took E to a motorcycle show today so I can drug myself with Nyquil and sleep. Oh sweet elusive sleep. For all our faults, I think I married well :)

Kiddie Toes & Ding Ding

My son lets me paint his toenails. And put nail stickers on them. No this is not a problem.

Me teaching him to shake the pee droplets off his *ahem* after going potty by singing "ding ding ding ding ding ding" is also awesome and that's what happens when daddies let mommies do all the potty training.

W4E5XCZ4UHGY

The Duggars make it an even 20

If you haven't already heard, the Duggars (of 19 Kids and Counting fame) have announced that they are expecting a 20th child.

(PEOPLE.com) "The kids were all asking, 'Are you joking or are you serious?' " says Michelle. "It was a big surprise. The little ones started jumping up and down when they realized he was serious." 

Really kids?  You were surprised? Because your mother hasn't been knocked up 20 of the past 24 years?


Today you can find several news stories on the subject ranging from feel-good articles on People.com to opinion pieces on Technorati. There is heated discussion on the subject of the Duggars' faith based reasons to reject forms of birth control or, more to the point, to use the womb for it's intended purpose which admittedly is to bear children.

I'm in no position to debate the religious aspects at play here and frankly Scribblesaurus Me isn't that type of blog. But what we can do is some damned good advocacy work. That's right. I am tossing my hat in the ring on behalf of Michelle Duggar's uterus.

Photo courtesy of People.com

Pregnancy, childbirth, raising children - all wonderful things. Any parent will (or should!) agree that having a child was one of, if not the, most important and amazing things they've ever done. I'll also accept that it is likely just as great the 20th time around which I'm basing on the fact that I'm pretty sure my parents loved my older brother and I equally and I think they were still stoked when they got pregnant with me. Right Mom? Mommy?  Right?  She'll probably get back to me later...

Where was I? Right - the uterus. Regardless of any medical reasons that might suggest many successive near to full-term pregnancies and deliveries (and a quick google search on '20th pregnancy uterus' didn't produce any readily available research) it's got to get a bit old for a poor uterus to keep doing this! Can it get a frickin' break already? Maybe that 19th baby coming out at just over 1lb at 25 weeks was its way of saying 'eff this, I am so OVER it!'

(TODAY.com) “There’s no information out there about somebody having this many babies. That, I think, makes us nervous,” says Macones, chair of obstetrics and gynecology at Washington University in St. Louis, who’d never heard of the Duggars until TODAY.com contacted him.

Anyways - the only thought-provoking part of this whole story for me is to wonder what their reasons for continuing to have children really are. If it's because they love their children all so dearly (and I'm sure they do) that they can't even fathom not having more and they are able to provide for them, then ok. If it's because they like 'doing it' (and who doesn't?) but refuse to use birth control or maybe Michelle has a hankering to figure out a tater tot casserole recipe for 25, then I'm not convinced of the validity of their reasons.

Only time will tell, likely generations down the road, how their children are being affected by their decisions. Just like it will for my family and yours.

I want to hear from you. What do you think? What is your ideal family size? Is your uterus hurting just reading about this?