Oranges Are NOT Always Good

MB learned a valuable lesson today.

I heard crying in the bathroom and thought nothing of it. Someone is always whining and crying about something. A few seconds later it turned into real crying and MG decided to announce that MB was crying. (Never one to state the obvious.) I went in there and MB, by this time, was screaming and crying and in absolute hysterics.

He was clutching his butt, carrying on. I thought maybe he needed to go but it hurt, and he told me (in so many words and cries) that he had already gone. So then I thought maybe it was a big one and hurt, or maybe hemorrhoids (which are always pleasant). So we got the Tucks out and he was still spazzing.

This goes on for at least 20 minutes, then Bapa suggested we put him in a warm bath. I filled the tub just enough, and he soaked in it for a while and slowly started feeling better.
Oh, the end of the story is so much better.

A little while later, Bapa came out of the TV room laughing. Through Dominic’s random chattering, a confession of sorts slowly emerged. Then the Invisible Man (his words, no joke) decided the natural orange room spray (I emphasize natural and chemical-free) needed to be sprayed at the source of the smell.

That’s right. He had air-freshened his butt-crack. Life Lesson Learned.

More Hair

The hair saga continues. If you recall, my children’s hair is a source of great confuzzlement to me. What is also a great confuzzlement to me is MB’s reaction to haircuts.

Honestly, you would think that we were murdering him in the most horrific way humanly possible. So, when it is haircut time, we must all brace ourselves and hope that the neighbors do NOT call the police for child torturing.


Of course, I can’t exactly blame him when Bapa does this to him:












He made much less of a commotion when Uncle How fixed it:










HMMMM....

Big Boy Room!

My dad is ridiculously handy. If MB learns even half of what he knows, he'll be pretty handy.

My kids have been sharing a room for the past several years, and my parents decided it was time they have their own. Since we only have three rooms upstairs - and four people - that posed a problem. But only momentary. Let's put MB in the attic!!

This is the attic:

Good place for a four-year-old, don't you think? No? That's ok, because this is what it really looks like after just a few short weeks...

New Guy

Here’s a bit of news. Remember NTF2 (HERE if you don’t)? Well, oddly (because, you know, it was Mexico and they’re usually just stories to tell) he is now what I will simply call DBF. You know, Dr. Boyfriend. (He wanted Dr. somewhere in his name, so there it is. I’m great, I know.)

I’ll wait for the shock to wear off.



Ok, better? Strange, but true. Mexico hilarity turns into something pretty awesome. And the fact that he has met my crazy family and LIKED them and stuck around? Might be a keeper.

Miss Muffett

So, I was driving down the road the other day, talking on the phone, multi-tasking. You know, what you should be doing while driving a stick-shift.

As I hung up the phone, I saw something out of the corner of my eye. I thought it was a fly or something - they seem to like my car. I turned my head to try and find the flying object and there was a spider hanging two inches from my face.

NOT cool!

I did yell, I admit it. (It was rather unexpected, you know.) I hit it, and it disappeared. So now there is a spider in my car and I don't know where it went. I actually pulled the car over, opened the door and got half-out, frantically looking for it. Couldn't find it, of course, and so I felt that horrid bug-crawling-on-you feeling that you get when you around ants or something.

I STILL don't know where it is.

The Nose Knows

Monday was a normal day.

Get up. Kids to school. Go to work.

At 2:30, my phone rang. I didn't recognize the number, but answered it anyway. It was MB's daycare teacher. She very seriously informed me that I needed to pick him up. I thought he was sick or other such things. But, no. I had to pick him up because....

....he had stuck a bead up his nose.

They said they tried to get it out, but couldn't. So I told my boss I had a bead emergency and left. Off to the doctor, where the bend was successfully extracted without to much trauma. Then he wanted to go back to school.

The night ended with him hitting his head at least twice, and crying he was bleeding (which he wasn't) after hitting his mouth. All of this AFTER he was in bed.

Ah, Monday's.

The Talented Miss A

Check THIS out.

Who thinks we should do a book? I do.