Minor illness + Early pregnancy = Stupidity

Two prime examples:

Fully believing that Corn Pops in an open cup will be both a nutritious and tidy breakfast for a two year old.



Packing a lunch for your child that is so unrecognizable, it requires both reassurance for the lunch distributor, and a label.

Breaking News: I cannot spell the word "alarmed" either. Awesome.

You take a kid to the park....

you freeze your booty off so he can have a chance to burn off some energy, and he chooses to sit next to you on the park bench and "read" a book. (sorry for the ridiculously blown out photo)

You give up, take the kid home...

and he plays with the tennis ball strung from the ceiling (for parking assistance) for as long as you'll let him.

Really son, I could have saved some gas if you could have just told me you wanted to play ghetto tether ball in the first place.

Also, I was very sad to retire his fabulously squishy and adorable puppy sweatshirt today. I love it dearly, and didn't want to give up on it. Unfortunately, putting it on caused Payne to emit headache inducing "my skull is being compressed" shrieks, and pulling it off elicited similar, but more intense "my ears are being ripped off" wails.

Farewell painfully adorable fuzzy dog face applique. You've fallen victim to ownership by an abnormally large headed tot. (sniffle)

I keep finding him like this.

(This photo is awesome on a grand scale. Definitely makes the "show future girlfriend" list)



I'm not referencing double fisting the blankets. That's totally normal for this "nigh nigh"-aholic. You can see here how we get him to willingly separate from them. He gets to go into the "forbidden room" to throw them in the dirty clothes.

I'm crafty.

Anyway, the new and weird thing he keeps doing is taking off his socks and pulling his pajama pants up to his knees. Either he is channeling his Payne Stewart days, or he's decided to go for a more European aesthetic (man capris?).

Payne has street cred.

The kid is certainly a "dive in head first" type, so we've seen our share of bumps and bruises. I was actually afraid to take him in public when he was an early walker. Why do children learn to walk before the reflex to shoot out their arms when they fall is well developed? Gah. Today was quite the day though, the worst one in regard to minor injuries that we've had in awhile.

The morning started off nicely with a swan dive off of the pew at mass directly onto a very nice elderly gentleman's feet. Payne got a beauty of a kneeler shaped bruise on his eyebrow as a souvenir. Late this afternoon he completely ate it crawling all over a chair he wasn't supposed to be messing with, and he ended up with a scrape on his neck, bump on the back of his head, and goose egg on his forehead from that fall.

I swear, on days like this I just want to put him safely in bed at 6 p.m. and start over tomorrow. (sigh)

Here's the damage. You can tell he's really torn up about it. I'm sure these will ripen to a lovely blue grey overnight.

Payne says he knows nothing about a church pew and you should see the other baby.

You can also see his chipped tooth from a previous spill. I prefer to think of the look as "rugged".

On a happier note, Piggy was able to join us for dinner. He really enjoyed the chipotle chicken. I think he will be enjoying it for some time, since it's now ground into his snout curls for all eternity.

The Sleep Hangover

This pregnancy has been delightfully devoid of many symptoms, except for what I've coined as my sleep hangovers.

At night I wake up and am so very happy I'm in bed. I get excited that I'm sleeping and laying there just feels delicious. So I guess this would be the "sleep drunk" that precedes the sleep hangover. ha.

When it's time to get up in the morning I struggle. I lay in bed awake unwilling to give up my cozy nest. Once I finally stumble out of bed I feel ridiculously groggy and sort of stagger towards the coffee machine. My brain doesn't work and everything seems obscenely difficult to accomplish. Despite having just gotten a full night's sleep I feel truly mentally and physically exhausted. I genuinely feel hung over. The only symptom conspicuously absent is overpowering desire for a Whataburger breakfast.

So, what made me laugh and prompted this relatively uninteresting and unillustrated post, was what I did in the midst of my hangover today. I went to get my coffee cup and spoon, set up my sugar and cream, reached for the carafe, and looked down to (nearly) pour my coffee into a cereal bowl.

I remember feeling amused and slightly unnerved by this last time, but it's weirdly hilarious to be fully aware that one's brain isn't firing on all eight cylinders, and won't be for a good long time yet. heh heh.

(p.s. I just spell checked this post and had like 8 errors. Usually I have none. This baby is definitely a brain sucker.)

Everypiggy poops.

I hope y'all find the continual and progressive anthropomorphization of Piggy as entertaining as I do, because I keep posting about it!

When I went to get Payne out of bed, he was busy tucking Piggy into bed. When I turned on the light to pick out his clothes he frantically motioned for me to turn it off, then led me out of his room and closed the door saying "Piggy nigh nigh". Ha!

Later, Payne was playing on his own with his toys and I heard him mutter to himself "Piggy poop. Bipe-err! (diaper)" He jetted into his bedroom to get a diaper. After a few minutes of struggling with it himself he brought it to me and I used my awesome origami skills to get Payne's huggies size 6 onto Piggy in a semi-neat fashion. This was the result.


How can it be so easy to make someone so happy?


Then Piggy needed a chair...

...and a snack.

(That's pound cake, which is a breakfast food in this house. Weird, I know, but that's how I grew up and it just tastes like breakfast to me. I'm willfully passing on the eccentricity.)

I know all kids do this, but it's so stinkin funny to watch!

Payne was into head gear today.

The hood plus hat combo: Always a classic.


An inspired AND cozy bed time ensemble.

My Day in photos.

The Seventh Circle of Hell. Oh wait! That's just the local indoor playground and coffee shop.

I neglected to realize that it would be insanely, hectically, and noisily crowded because it was both raining and a school holiday. Payne scurried up into the bowels of the labyrinth on the top level and was nearly lost to me. I had to chuck my shoes and sacrifice my dignity to retrieve him when it was time to go.


Ah crap.



"Eye-keeeeem!"



Pre-bed hysteria with Dan. I love them.

Things I didn't catch on film.
- Payne running up to Dan and yelling "My hug!" (sniffle)
- Me screaming at the poor boy when he reached for a hot cookie sheet on the counter.
- A two year old attempting to eat a lettuce wrap.
- My doctor trying not to laugh as my son gamely attempted to put my shoes back on for me.
- A toddler saying Elephant (Eow-en-ent!).
- The sound of Payne bludgeoning the inside of his bedroom door with the naked carcass of Mr. Potato Head after he was supposed to be asleep.

Tummies.

We've been talking a lot about tummies lately, since we've started up with the perfunctory education of the existing child regarding pregnancy.

My Mom has been asking Payne what is in "Mama's tummy" for awhile and he usually answers "Beh-bee!" (no really, his intonation and the raise in pitch at the end makes it sound French. heh heh). He responds dutifully, but sometimes he shoots me an up and down look afterwards, as if to say "You know, this is a really freaking weird concept." or "Why do you keep eating babies?".

We're not batting a thousand just yet though. He once responded with "Apple" (or "abbow" in Paynespeak), which was shockingly accurate, actually.

It was pretty cute yesterday when I asked him what was in my tummy and he then pulled up my shirt, stuck his finger in my belly button and exclaimed "Beh-bee! Beh-bee in'err (in there)". But my favorite answer so far was last night. I asked Payne what was in his tummy right after dinner, and he shot back a big resounding belch. Ha.

The oh so successful first donning of the "Big Brother" shirt.

"Get it off! GET IT OFF! What does it mean?! It buuuuurns!"

Payne really likes ketchup.

No, I don't think you understand.


He REALLY likes ketchup.


I mean, I don't think I'm quite getting my point across.


He would eat it with a spoon.
He would eat it on a carrot.
He would suck it through a straw.
He would lick it off of someone else's face.
He would roll around in a vat of it.


I still don't think you could possibly have grasped the magnitude of this yet.


So...I'm going to have to do this the hard way:





I hope you realize I only did this out of necessity.

Another chapter in the Life and Times of Piggy.

Payne was bored while I was making dinner. The obvious solution was to steal my sweater and make a bed for Piggy directly at my feet.



I was none to pleased because I was browning meatballs, which is a high stress activity for me. Why you ask? Getting a meat sphere browned on all sides is really freaking hard. Also, I loathe being popped by oil, and it's pretty much impossible to avoid during the the constant rotation of small balls of ground meat in hot olive oil, dangit!

What were we talking about? Oh right.

So I helped Payne move Piggy's bed to the couch in order to avoid venting my frustration by punting the innocent pink fluff ball directly into the window blinds.



And all was again right with the world.

Also, it's possible we should have started the sibling production a bit sooner. Payne is getting attached to an increasing number of objects. He went to bed with a hooded towel on Wednesday, and just a bit ago he asked me to hug and kiss his pillow goodnight before he went to bed. If I catch him snuggling with a pencil box or a hairbrush I may have to stage an intervention.

Fun with Huggies boxes continued.

And tonight we added two wire hangers joyfully discovered in the master bedroom closet!

So Payne climbed into a box with the two hangers (they were important somehow, although I wasn't smart enough to quite figure it out) and I pushed him around on the rug for a bit. Then he got up and asked me to get in. Well, really, it sounded like "Mom! Dehr!" over and over again. Therefore, I stuffed my butt into the huggies box, he handed me the hangers, then insisted I put them in the front of the box (maybe they were a steering wheel?) and he "pushed" me around the family room. That must have looked awesome. He was alternating between grunting and yelling "Beep beep!" at me. Heh heh. Of course I was sneakily propelling myself along crab style (again, must have been a killer visual).

Then he stuck his face in the box and looked at me through the slat in the bottom, and then made me stick my face in the box and look at him, while he laughed hysterically, for the next hour and a half.

Why do we buy toys?

The boy loves his "swidr".

The best $0 I've ever spent.

I got myself a fancy crumb vacuuming swiffer last year (Oh yeah, I live the high life!) and Payne inherited my old one, minus the middle two joints.

He loves it. He insists on digging it out of his toy box whenever I'm using mine, and it must, MUST have a swiffer sheet on it as well.


(Payne is helping me make sure my swiffer sheet is secure here. I can't be trusted to do it right.)





Payne is very industrious. He even squats down to get under the tables. He calls it his "swidr" and will correct anyone who tries to call it a broom or mop or other inferior cleaning implement.

Another random funny from today. Aimee and Jason came over for dinner and suddenly I realized J.P. and Payne (who were playing after they had eaten) were awfully quiet...ominously quiet, in fact. I hopped up to check on them and this is what they were doing:



I guess J.P. is an aspiring banker (with his Mama's money, naturally!). Payne is holding a crisp $20 bill here, and J.P. is clearly reviewing a reciept of the transaction.

What Toys R Us doesn't want us to know.

(He got a huge kick out of being "strong" and carrying around the big boxes all by himself)






He also stacked them up and tried to break into my zen palace (the laundry room) by getting as high as the baby gate. He must be stopped!

Of course, in all reality, those boxes "cost" me about $80. Soooo maybe yet another package of matchbox cars is a better deal after all.

Oh, and he turned an aquadoodle pen into a pistol today, a plastic freaking pen with a spongy tip! I swear boys must dream about guns in utero. He was running back and forth between Dan and I and "shooting" us. It had absolutely nothing to do with me letting him watch Kevin Costner play Wyatt Earp today. Absolutely nothing.

Before I forget...

Payne had Dan, Eric, Emily and I practically rolling this morning.

Dan told Payne that he was going to Best Buy, and he wanted Payne to come in "Daddy's car" with him.

Payne said "No! MY car!",promptly crawled into his cozy coupe and set his jaw. Dan informed him that it was in fact impossible to drive to Best Buy in a cozy coupe. Payne responded by bursting into tears and yowling " No! MY car! My drive!" and slamming the cozy coupe door on Dan, over and over again. Eric wisely explained to Payne that it would probably be impossible to "Fred Flintstone" the coupe up to highway speeds, and Payne responded with more tears and exclamations, and scooted the car out of the family room into the kitchen.

He was so very mad, and we were laughing so very hard! Poor child. We probably gave him a complex. The story ended happily enough though. Once he was peeled out of the coupe kicking and screaming and carried into the garage, he forgot all about his desire to chauffer.

Arrrrgh! I'm so frustrated I didn't get a picture!

To-ga! To-ga! To-ga!

I'm so funny. (He loves his "taow")

In other news, Payne has become quite the bossy child. He recently picked up the word "now". As a direct result of this, my day sounds like the following:

"Ma! Up NOOOOW!"

"Ma! Mik (milk) Now!"

"Onen (open) it door. Now!"

"Eat food, NOW!"

etcetera, etcetera, etcetera....

I don't think I'm properly conveying the intensity here though. Payne sort of "hulks out" when he says it. Try to replace the infamous phrase "Hulk smash!" with "Milk now!" in your head. That's my morning. Heh.

I'm in trouble.

Oh sure, he/she looks innocent and blob-ish enough (at 7 weeks 1 day here), but we all know who this really is. This is Payne's future partner in crime.

The working title for the wee one who will tilt the household balance of power in the children's favor is Nugget.

I will have as many children as I have arms come the very end of July, so you can all feel free to pray for me!

Piggy gets a makeover.

Payne decided Piggy needed some foot protection today. Although he required my assistance when it came to fine motor skills, the design work was all his.



You know what? I'm showing the under eye bags for the sake of realism. This kiddo was a total bear today and I'd earned them by 6 p.m. (I mean, I was putting shoes on plush animals to keep him happy at this point. It was a long day. heh heh)


As is vividly illustrated, after Payne set Piggy up with his sweet kicks, he propped the world's luckiest swine up in my lap and handed him the remote.

Piggy is treated pretty well these days, although he's still subjected to the occasional spanking. Payne likes to try to snap Piggy into his car seat. He sets Piggy on his knee while riding in the car, in a direct replication of how Dan and I set Payne in our laps. I've also found Payne sneaking him "sips" of milk, and showing Piggy the sights by holding him up to the car window.

I guess that faint but persistent "loved" smell is the price a prized toy pays for such privileges.

What Payne thinks of a nine hour car ride.

"Are we there yet?"

"I give up."

In all reality though, he is an awesome kid in the car. We just provide him with a "nigh" (generally, they're allowed at sleeping times only), and he spends the day in a sort of blanket induced euphoria. He takes a hit here and there, and zones out happily.

Any gaps in entertainment left by the blanket, were filled with the presence of the dogs. Who needs highway bingo when you can yell "Ed-dow! Dah-weh! Sit/Back/No!" ? Yes, Ethel and Stella's names have morphed yet again. "Dah-weh" makes Dan and I giggle, because it sounds like "Yah-weh" with a "D". Of course, Stella would find it perfectly fitting to be named after a deity. As far as she's concerned, Payne is the only one that has her correctly pegged.

Stella and the mere mortals are all glad to be home!