Wordless Wednesday – Just Don’t Ask

2 03 2011





Haircut Day: Redux

27 02 2011

First of all, I have to say y’all are the best readers ever. Some people might say I’m crazy, but you guys? You just make me feel all kinds of normal with my matching lids and the such.

Second, Car feels I should tell you that when we had our little talk about sippy cup lids, I made him wash a lid because he was, at that very moment, about to use a lid that didn’t match.

Anyway, it recently became apparent that Little G needed a haircut. When I say recently, I mean he’s needed a haircut for over a month.

Given the horrors that accompany cutting Big G’s hair, I wanted to pay someone to cut Little G’s hair. Alas, that didn’t work out, and the responsibility fell to me. Fortunately, several factors worked in my favor:

  1. Little G had a good nap.
  2. We have a portable DVD player.
  3. I bought a 1 lb. bag of M&Ms.
  4. Little G is not afraid of the hair clippers.

That’s right, folks. It was time for a shearing. We popped a Diego DVD in the portable DVD player, stuffed the kid full of M&Ms, sat him in Car’s lap, and went to town.

Overall, I think it was a roaring success.

 

Before

After

 

Now the biggest problem? His gargantuan noggin. I thought all the hair was making it look big, but that kid’s got a huge head, and cutting his hair made it look even bigger.

I’m not kidding. It’s like an orange on a toothpick!

*The best things about using this clip:

  1. We did the haircut on S-A-T-U-R-D-A-Y…NIGHT!
  2. About a week ago, Car said, “This kid almost looks like he could be one of the Bay City Rollers.” I said, “Like you know what the Bay City Rollers looked like.” He said, “I  know what they looked like! I had one of their albums.”
  3. My husband is awesome.




I’m Not OCD

25 02 2011

Now please excuse me while I go wash my hands.

Ha! I kid. See, that’s funny, because the common misconception is that all people with OCD wash their hands constantly. But that’s irrelevant, because I’m not OCD.

We have two basic types of sippy cups in our house: Lightning McQueen and Toy Story. Like So:

The Lightning McQueen cups came with blue and red lids. The Toy Story cups came with green lids. Last week I grabbed the last clean cup out of the cupboard—a Toy Story cup. Then I grabbed the last lid.

It was red.

I did what any perfectly sane non-OCD person would do.

I washed a green lid.

What? That’s perfectly normal. The green lids go with the Toy Story cups. Do you see any green in the Lightning McQueen cups? I think not! It’s not OCD. It’s a keen eye for coordination!

Shut up. It’s not like I would’ve panicked if I had to use a red lid. I believe we could characterize it as “moderately disturbed.”

If anything, I have Obsessive-compulsive Personality Disorder.

Actually, I don’t know if that’s better or worse, as one of the sub-headings in the OCPD article is “Hoarding.”

Crap.

Anyway, I had a little chat with Car about proper use of sippy cup lids on Saturday, so I think we’re cool. Y’all can breathe easy. Moderate disturbance averted.

Doesn’t matter anyway. After all, I’m not OCD.





Wordless Wednesday – Smooshyface

23 02 2011





Let It Begin

21 02 2011

Sometimes I get broadsided by things that, in retrospect, are painfully predictable.

On Saturday I had a conversation with a customer about the pediatric neurologist her daughter is seeing. Big G saw the same neurologist, and I made a brief comment about how impressed I was by this doctor. Of course, the customer wanted to know why he’d seen a neurologist.

I briefly explained his motor tics, and went on to tell her I feel it’s likely Big G has Asperger’s Syndrome and the tics are symptomatic of that.

“What’s Asperger’s?” she asked.

“High-functioning autism,” I said.

And here’s where we all step back and wonder that I didn’t see this question coming from a mile away:

“Did you have him vaccinated?”

Dude.

If I have a kid with autism of any sort and I, for some ridiculous, grasping, misguided reason decide that it’s because of vaccinations, whatever. I suppose that’s my crazy, irrational business. But unless I come to you and tell you that the medical profession has royally screwed my child over and Thimerosal has ruined our lives? You just back away. I don’t care what you believe about it. This is not your child, and this is not your life.

Of course, being the person I am, I had to throw out, “You know, most of the authors of the original study linking autism to vaccinations have retracted their work,” but we all know that makes no difference with most zealots.

I guess the good news is now I’m kind of prepared, right? This was a nice, low-stress way for me to realize (on a very small scale, I’m sure) what the future has in store.

Go ahead, world. Bring it. Yesterday my kid pooped on the carpet and peed on the Wii balance board. (Or, as said by the lovely @guiltysquid, Wii-wee’d! HA!) I’m pretty sure I can handle just about anything right now.





Sunday Swimming

20 02 2011

Just an average Sunday at our house…

Big G had noodles for lunch.

Little G had noodles for lunch.

Big G drank apple juice and Miralax so he wouldn't need another enema from the doctor. You know, like yesterday.

Little G read a book.

Big G read a book.

And pants were, as always, optional.





I’m Only Thinking of Him

17 02 2011

I’m only thinking of him,
I’m only thinking of him,
Whatever I may do or say,
I’m only thinking of him!
In the very heart of me
There is Christian charity
I’m only thinking and worrying about him!
~ Man of La Mancha

There are times when I wonder why Car stays married to me (correct answer: because I’m awesome).

At bedtime a few nights ago he was reading the usual bedtime story (Planets, Stars, And Galaxies: A Visual Encyclopedia of Our Universe) (What, that’s not what your 5-year-old requests every night?) and he had to put up with this:

Car: “A neutron star isn’t really a star. It’s more like a giant atomic nucleus—”

Me: *Unable to ignore the fact that he pronounced it nuke-u-lus* “A what?”

Car: “A giant atomic nuke-u-lus—”

Me: “I’m sorry, what was that?”

Big G: “He said a giant atomic nuke-u-lus!”

Me: *horrified Big G is now repeating it* “A nuke-u-lus?”

Car: *glaring at me* “Fine. Nucleus. Did you want to read this?”

Me: “Not really. Carry on.”

Fourteen years next month, people. The man is a saint.

Even if he does mispronounce nucleus.





Wordless Wednesday – The Valentine

16 02 2011





Every Breath You Take

15 02 2011

Big G will be watching you.

Today the boys and I made a little Valentine’s Day craft. Yes, I know Valentine’s Day was yesterday. Shut up. I’m doing a frickin’ craft, people. You’re really going to quibble over one day? My plan was to make a cute little craft thingy (so technical!) for an older widow in our neighborhood.

Big G had other plans.

Remember T, Big G’s preschool girlfriend? Well, making cute paper crafts for widows is well and good, but making something for your adorable blond crush…obviously that’s even better.

Our compromise: a heart for the widow, a heart for T. Never let it be said I’m not a romantic.

So there I was, cutting out little squares of tissue paper in pink, red, and white (I know! It was like Invasion of the Body Snatchers!) and Big G said, “Mom, I think we should use pink. T really likes pink.”

“Okay,” I said. “I thought we’d actually use all three colors.”

“But we should definitely use pink. She really likes pink. I know, because she was wearing a pink dress yesterday.”

I may have giggled internally a little bit when he said that. I mean, really. He noticed what color dress she was wearing! That’s adorable!

Big G noticed I was cutting out white squares and said, “She likes white, too. Her pink dress had white dots on it. We should cut out white dots so we can have pink with white dots like her dress.”

Dude.

Either Big G has eidetic memory or he’s precariously close to moving from “adorable” into “little stalker.”

Nah. He’s still adorable. Giving crappy valentines to people he doesn’t like…making clothing-coordinated valentines for the people he likes.

My adorable, diabolical little stalker.





Keep Your Friends Close and Give Your Enemies a Crappy Valentine

13 02 2011

Tonight Big G and I prepped valentines for his class party tomorrow. Big G’s task was to write his name on the valentines. He’s learning to write his letters, so the presentation is a little bit…interesting. We’ll call it original. Straight lines are far too confining. Why write your name in a straight line when you can write the letters in a random configuration? Silly conformists.

Still, he’s a perfectionist at heart and he wanted things to be just so. It was okay if the letters were scattered about, but they had to look really good. Each time he completed his name, he looked at it critically and passed judgment:

“This isn’t a very good one. I’ll give it to someone I don’t like.”

We finished all the valentines and I can only draw one conclusion: he only likes two people in his class.

You can’t have him. He’s my diabolical preschooler.








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