Some more funny moments.

Last night, Payne went swimming with my Mom after dinner. My Dad and I were sitting on the patio watching them when Payne turned to my Dad and yelled "Pappy! You put on 'wim biper (swim diaper) too? Corn (come on)!". So yeah Dad...where are you swim diapers anyway? Heh heh.

Today Payne and I were in the car, and he looked over at some empty train tracks that are familiar to him. He excitedly said "Der twain go! Twain working!". It took me a good few minutes to realize that he equated the term "working" with being gone, because I always tell him that "Daddy is working" when Dan is out of town and Payne asks where he is. So, he was saying that the train was gone too. I can't decide if this is funny or depressing!

Progress. Finally!

I am now 34 weeks pregnant. Exhibit A:



I will be having a baby in a month people. My c-section is scheduled for July 29th. One...month...away. Holy crap.

And my husband was finally actually at home long enough to work on the nursery for me! The poor man has quite a demanding work schedule. We took down the old bed, put the baby furniture up, and he hung my beloved bunny plaques that I (cough, cough, and my Dad the hobby carpenter) spent a ton of time making!


It's not totally done yet, and won't be until after Nugget's arrival. We won't be removing the mattress and arranging the furniture into final positions until after Dan's Mom comes to stay with us to help with the baby. I'll probably bring our beige recliner in there, or maybe get a glider. I'm not sure yet...


The white box hung on the wall here is a shadow box. We have one for Payne too, and I will put the baby's coming home outfit, hospital bracelet, footprints, and other little souvenirs in there.


We got the bedding from Target on clearance. It was such a steal and I love it. I guess the "theme" of Nugget's room is Spring? Bunnies and tulips are pretty Spring-ish.

I feel so much better now.

Well crap.

I've started to let Payne watch the occasional movie, usually when he didn't watch any morning cartoons. However, I think that perhaps giving a child a taste of Disney is like giving a parolee just one little hit of crystal meth.

This is how I found him this afternoon:



Yep. Sitting directly in front of the DVD player, staring longingly at our limited collection of animated movies. Oh, and he was asking in the sweetest voice possible "Mine watch movie cars? Mine watch movie kewins (penguins)? Mine watch dis one? (points to The Incredibles) Mine watch dis one? (points to Finding Nemo)".

I told him nicely no, that we weren't watching a movie today. I tried to lure him away from the Altar of Pixar with questions, toys, food, all to no avail. He sat there quietly for close to half an hour. Just wishing...

Crappity crap crap.

Cue the Banjos.

I wish I could think of some phonetic way of providing you with the dueling banjos segment from Deliverance....



Let me paint you a slightly more elaborate picture:

It was hot. Dan was going to be out late and Payne didn't take much of a nap. I was feeling like too much of a pregnant heiffer to drag myself and the boy to the neighborhood pool. And damnit, I wanted my kid to fall asleep before 10 p.m., unlike the night before where he managed to entertain himself in pitch black with an empty Fisher Price Noah's Ark and a single match box car until directly before Dan and I went to bed.

My solution? Steal (Yes, steal! No permission was asked and they're out of town) the kiddie pool from my parent's back yard and fill it up on my front porch. The porch was necessary because it's the only covered outdoor area we have, and the backyard in the afternoon is comparable in heat levels to the surface of the sun. I then schlepped a kitchen chair and some bath toys out there and slapped a swim diaper on the boy (swim trunks? Psh, those are for people who put on airs).

So we were chillin in the front yard with a kiddie pool, in our skivvies (well, I was wearing sweat shorts and a tank top) for the world to see. On the plus side, I got all of my "bud-ez" (bushes) and "gas" (grass) "wawered" via giant Sonic cup (by hand folks! That's good service)for free, and Payne went down without at peep at 8 p.m.! I need to procure some hair rollers and a cigarette for next time.

Father's Day Photos.

Ha! I insisted on taking this photo before I changed Payne after church because I very cheesily matched Dan and Payne's shirts on Father's Day. Dan was so kind as to let me. Unfortunately the only photo I got was a little goofy.

I was remiss in getting a picture of Mike (Dan's dad), Dan, and Payne all together while we were at their house for lunch on Sunday. Sorry Mike! I promise to correct that the next time we get together.

And.....



Best...picture...ever.

Here we have my Dad, brandishing his Father's Day cookie cake, with eyes deftly averted to the U.S. Open playing on the T.V. behind the camera. Payne is posing in an oh so charming fashion with his toy pliers poised to attack his own nose, wearing his Ewok shirt and no pants. AND in the bottom left corner there you see Hannah (the resident dachshund) eyeing that giant cookie and preparing to make an attack if it lowers by even the slightest of margins. I feel like I should sent this in to awkwardfamilyphotos.com.

We're so cool.

Weird photo, I know.

So this morning I cut my ankle shaving. You know that spot on the back of your ankle where the tiniest nick will result in Monty Python and the Holy Grail worthy gore? I cut that spot, and all I had at my disposal were Buzz Lightyear Band Aids, so I slapped one on with every intention of taking it off before I left the house.

When I got Payne up the first thing he noticed was "Mama Band Aid!" and he wanted one too, on "mine toe!" . I mistakenly put his bandage on his foot close to his toe as I thought he requested. This was NOT satisfactory and much sadness ensued until I realized he wanted his Buzz where my Buzz was.

Then I left the house for a playdate, naturally forgetting I was wearing Pixar themed first aid. I noticed once we got there and promptly took it off. Well that cut was STILL bleeding (what on earth is so important back there that requires such an impressive blood supply? Anyone know?). I'm pretty sure in most public play areas it's frowned upon to bleed all over the equipment, so I begged a Band Aid off of my kid. At first he refused, muttering "No danks." when I asked for his Buzz. But when I pouted and showed him my "Boo boo" he reluctantly held up his foot so I could steal it. Sweet boy.

And yeah, I now own some flesh colored Band Aids. heh heh.

A few unassociated thoughts.

Payne got reeeaaally into the Father's Day shopping this year. Meaning he took his Grandpa's present and dragged it all over the floor of the mall at warp speed (thus, the blurry photo). I had to abscond the bag after he used it to take a swing at an innocent and somewhat amused 11 year old.

I have now been told by both the Gymboree saleswoman and the Gymboree Outlet saleswoman that I "come here all the time!". Ah crap. I think I need an intervention, and I'm seriously considering figuring out when the normal retail shift change goes down so I can dodge my usual salespeople. Quit shopping there you say? What? I think you're breaking up... Listen, I have to go.

Payne has taken his energy level to a whole new high in the last month or so. It's getting slightly alarming. I can let him run from sunup to sundown and he's still bouncing off of the walls. I was talking about this over dinner with my parents recently and I said I was starting to wonder if he has ADD or something. My Dad's response "He's a two year old boy. They all have ADD." Wise words Dad.

The other night Dan asked Payne where Baby Sister is, and Payne answered "Unner Mommy's tee-shirt!". Heh heh.

I love kids.

Sorry. This is the best photo I got.

Pantsless, wearing his "ears" (headphones) and Crocs with socks, running wind sprints up and down the front hallway.

This was, apparently, an absolute blast.

Flying with a Two Year Old.

I feel like I need to share what I learned over the course of two flights with my son over the past two weeks. I've flown with him plenty of times before, but he was either small enough to be in my lap or we brought along his car seat, and this was the first time I've ever flown with him alone. Dan doesn't come with me on my annual journey to visit my extended family because he doesn't have much vacation time (in fact this year he was on a business trip), and he's violently allergic to the entire state of Kentucky.

I considered that I'd be alone, and 30+ weeks pregnant and not lifting anything heavier than 25 pounds (ha! Try telling that to the master "collapse in protest"er!) because I'd be following my OB's instructions. I decided not to take Payne's car seat because I figured it would be too much for me to lug around in my delicate state, and I clearly remember the universal look of fear and horror on the faces of stewardesses when one comes up to the entry of the plane with a full sized car seat in tow.

I learned many valuable things on my flight out.

Lesson One: A 30 pound child can slip downwards out of a lap belt.

It was impossible to restrain him. I was quite literally at a loss, and on multiple occasions wished I had a straight jacket in a size 2T...or perhaps a good supply of bungee cords.

Lesson Two: One cannot touch anything on an airplane without disturbing someone else.

Lets see, I had a human ping pong ball in a space smaller than my linen closet. Directly in front of him was a tray table. Naturally this was a source of complete fascination, but I have a feeling the person sitting in front of Payne didn't appreciate being violently jerked backwards as he shoved it down, and then immediately being smacked in the back of the head as he enthusiastically slammed it back up. To Payne's right was a plane window. Great! Except that part where the entire lighting quality of the cabin shifted every time he opened and closed it...at a rate of approximately 4 cycles per second. Thank the Lord there were no epileptics on board. Behind the boy was, well, his seat. Seems innocuous enough, right? And yet, he managed to annoy all of those to his rear by alternately bouncing in it facing backwards and playing a one sided game of peek a boo with some poor saps that just wanted to do their Sudoku puzzles in peace. To Payne's left was me. Oh lucky me, the sacrificial lamb who was desperately attempting to absorb all annoying behavior because she quite literally feared there would be a mutiny on board the plane and Payne would be blacklisted by Continental Airlines.

Lesson Three: Orange snacks aren't the best choice.

Those cheddar blast or whatever they were called Pringles sure seemed like an appealing choice at the time. They did buy me the only 15 minutes of peace I got on the entire flight, but the resulting processed powdered cheese cloud on and around my child was truly horrifying...and impressive, really.

Lesson Four: Airplane bathrooms are completely fascinating...and are easily disassembled.

Well you know I couldn't possibly have made it more than an hour without having to pee, so Payne and I made a joint trip to the airplane bathroom. Yes, we both got in there together. As much as in flight restrooms feel like the inside of a tin can, they actually are quite complex. It took Payne approximately 20 seconds to locate and pull out an entire metal compartment of the "vanity" and partially unroll the toilet paper supply. Therefore, we spent the rest of our visit holding hands, face to face. And, did you know that blue toilet water is the most amazing thing ever? And flushing a toilet with blue water is worthy of extensive discussion? Both in and outside of the restroom? Actually, the whole bathroom trip was discussed enthusiastically and many requests were made to return. I didn't oblige.

Obviously, I was a bit exhausted by the first flight, and made a plan of attack as to how to make the return flight a little simpler. First, I went out a got a portable DVD player, hoping to lull Payne into a sort of Monsters Inc. induced stupor. I also purchased tidier snacks, and fun beverages. Things were much improved by these developments, but I still learned a few more valuable lessons.

Lesson 5: Portable DVD players are a gift from God

Okay, you guys, he was seriously like a little baby zombie. He barely moved for the duration of the movie. The only thing he did was readjust his headphones, occasionally look at me (the move provider) lovingly and exclaim "Mommy!" in a way that totally said "I cannot believe my good fortune!", and drink his juice.

Lesson 6: Several hours of constant juice consumption will lead to a massive diaper failure

Fortunately Payne informed me that he was "all soggy". We had to do an in-seat diaper change and I'm pretty sure Payne flashed a Marine and a woman from San Antonio who had the misfortune of being across the aisle from me. I thanked myself for packing extra pants and zip lock bags for the five millionth time in my child's life. I wonder how many people saw me sopping up his seat with the discarded pants. Ah, motherhood is so glamorous.

Lesson 7: Raisinettes are in fact NOT a tidy plane snack.

So we were landed and headed to our exit gate and I was absolutely elated that we'd made it without any serious incidents. Then I looked down at Payne's seat as he stood on his knees to look out of the window and my brain went something like "OH MY GOD WHAT IS THAT UNSPEAKABLE SUBSTANCE ALL OVER HIS SEAT? HOW IS THIS POSSIBLE? I JUST CHANGED HIM AND IT'S ALL OVER HIS LEGS TOO! I HAVE NO MORE CLEAN PANTS! WE ALMOST MADE IT! WHAT HAPPENED? AM I GOING TO STROLL HIM ALL OVER THE AIRPORT PANTSLESS? DID THE LADY FROM SAN ANTONIO SEE THIS NASTINESS?!"

I then whipped out a baby wipe and scooped up the offending matter, only to realized that Payne had sat on a Raisinette quite a bit ago and it had melted under his butt. So yeah. Don't do the Raisinettes!

I'm sort of proud that I managed to take him on a plane by myself while heavily pregnant. I figure if I could manage now, I know I can do it whenever I need to. So I guess next year I'll learn some valuable lessons about flying alone with a 10 month old and a 3.5 year old! (nervous giggles turn quickly into tears)

Oh the things I said I'd never do....

I SWORE before I had children that I'd never have the creepy kid that is totally zoned out in public while glued to some sort of screen. Oh no, I would teach my child how to act in public. I'd use misbehavior as a learning opportunity!

Well, thanks to the fairly traumatic plane trip up here I am now the proud owner of the cheapest portable DVD player that Wal Mart has to offer. I'm positively praying that my kid zones out to the point of potential drooling when I whip that sucker out at 30,000 feet.

Oh how the proud (and idealistic, and energetic) have fallen.

You've got to love a unique perspective.

So my Mother was showing Payne a little grey squirrel that was eating corn in typical squirrely fashion out on her deck, and we asked him what the squirrel was doing.

His answer?

"eeze pickin izz nose! Quirl pickin izz nose!"

Haa ha ha!

Sorry.

I haven't been posting much since Payne and I have been traveling, but I do have one pretty funny thing to share.

On Saturday night Payne's beloved Tate and Emily came to visit. They're awesomely accommodating and each was given a tour of the house by it's smallest human resident. Payne took Emily to the office and said "Dis Daddy's room." As the tour progressed to the back of the house he gestured to the laundry room and informed her " Dis Mommy's room!".

So...Yeah.