Friday, August 29, 2008

Look at the size of those McNuggets!!

Max went to his first day of preschool this week, and he loves it!
He insisted that I drop him off at the door, even though the mommy in me wanted to walk him into his classroom and make sure he was OK.
He waved at me and went in by himself.

He was fine!

I was not.

I missed my little Max. It's been over three years since I've really been able to go to anywhere by myself (In daylight hours, that is) so it was strange to be alone. I kept talking to the empty backseat of our car.

I was able run several errands and pick up the other kids from school before we got Max. He was so excited to show us the picture he drew! We still aren't sure what it is, but it's darn cute!

This week Max has been singing the songs he has learned in preschool. I think my favorite was when he sang...........

"At McDonald's has a farm eeee i eeee i oh! At McDonald's has a farm eeee i eeee i oh! At McDonald's has a farm eeee i eeee i oh! At McDonald's has a farm eeee i eeee i oh! At McDonald's has a farm eeee i eeee i oh! At McDonald's has a farm eeee i eeee i oh! "

I finally had to try and move the song along a little bit and I sang "And on that farm they had some......"

Max looked at me blankly.

I tried again "On that farm they had some..............."
(waiting patiently for Max to name an animal)

Max stares.

So I suggest "Did they have any pigs on the farm?"


"What about cows?"

"No. No cows."





"Well, Max, what kind of animals did they have at the McDonald's farm?"

Max tilts his head sideways thinks for a moment and then says-


I think maybe we need to schedule a field trip to a farm.

Wednesday, August 27, 2008

Nutrition is SO overrated

Overheard yesterday at the Rec center.........

Mom #1: "I must really save a lot of money on food."

Mom #2: "Why do you say that?"

Mom #1: "Because I'm really thin and I don't eat very much."

Mom #2: "Oh, I don't eat much either, in fact, I don't really like to eat. My husband really likes to eat, and it drives me crazy."

I'm thinking these ladies have never heard of chocolate.

Tuesday, August 26, 2008

Max's big day

Today is going to be a great day for Max.

First of all, it's garbage day. His favorite day of the week!
This is the day where he stops playing with his cars, (just for a moment) pretending they are garbage cans and a garbage truck, and looks out the window to watch the big garbage truck dump our garbage.
When he was little, he would wave to the truck as it was driving away and say "Bye bye, stinky diapers!"
Garbage day is the day of the week that Max lives for.

Today, however, we have an added bonus.

Today is the first day of preschool!

We've had several conversations today about how important it is for him to keep his pants dry at school. I think Max understands this, and may have detected a slight eye roll from him during our ninth conversation on this topic this morning.
Lately when he has an "accident" he just changes his clothes on his own. He did this a few times on Saturday, and I didn't really know he did until I went into his room and saw several wet pairs of underwear and shorts on the floor next to his dirty clothes hamper. (I'll never understand why my kids can't just move their arm the extra few inches to the hamper.)

I have explained to Max that I WILL NOT be sending a change of clothes with him to preschool, so he needs to stay dry.

At our preschool when you drop the kids off, instead of having every parent park and walk their kids into the school, you have the option of driving up to the door, and the teachers come and get them. This feature is well worth the price of tuition, especially when you have smaller children with you, because now you don't need to get them out of the car too. It's also a great thing to be able to do if you are still in your pajamas. (not that I will still be in my pajamas when I drop Max off at preschool in the afternoon, because I would never stay in my pajamas that long.)

Since it's Max's first day of school, and I don't have any younger kids to haul around, I told Max that today, I would park in the parking lot and walk him into his classroom.

He freaked out!

"NO, I also walk into my skoowol by mysewf!"

"Max, honey, I think it would be better if mommy walks you in for the first day."

"NO! You drive the car, and I get out and also walk into the skoowol. You also need to stay in the car."

Then I realized that Max has spent the last three years watching as his brothers and sister get out of the car and walk in to their school.

He just wants to be like the big kids!

Either that, or he is embarrassed by my pajamas.

Saturday, August 23, 2008


Yes folks, it's that time of year again.

"What time of year" you ask?

It's the time each year when our school kicks off it's annual fundraiser.

Every year it's the same thing. A lady comes to talk to all of the children in the school. She's usually dressed up in some great costume (rumor has it that this year, she was a pirate) She spends a good amount of time telling the kids about ALL OF THE COOL PRIZES THEY CAN EARN just by selling all the cheap crap lovely merchandise shown in the catalog given to them at the end of the day.

Now don't get me wrong, I'm not against school fundraisers, I just really don't like this one.

Why, you ask?

Because each year, my kids come home all hyped up about selling the stuff in these catalogs. and "YOU ONLY NEED TO SELL 250 ITEMS TO EARN OURSELF AN IPOD!!"

The "items" are usually very overpriced wrapping paper, but have now been expanded to include various overpriced nick-nacks and overpriced chocolates, and this year, they've also included jewelry, which isn't terribly overpriced, which leads me to wonder about the quality.
I won't buy this stuff, and I won't allow my kids to sell it.

(I will say that I have been known to buy fundraising items like cookie dough that I can hide in the back of the freezer, to be used in case of extreme stressed outedness, or a really bad chocolate craving fit, or breakfast, or whatever, but that's OK, because HEY! IT'S COOKIE COOKIE DOUGH!!!)

One of the rules that the school has set for selling the above mentioned items are that the kids can't go selling door to door.

Sidenote: When we were kids, this was the only way that we could sell our overpriced wrapping paper. I always took my brother with me whenever I needed to sell something, because he was a cute little kid, and he had these huge blue eyes , and he was really good at looking sad.

Plus he could cry on cue.

Whenever I took him with me to sell things, I usually sold about 5 times as much as I would without him.
I think my favorite time was when he came with me to sell that darned wrapping paper, and we went to a door where the lady said that she didn't need any wrapping paper, and as we turned around and started to walk away, he looked at me and said in a very sad voice "Well Jill, there goes Christmas." (He really did!) The lady suddenly decided that she did indeed need some wrapping paper, and called us back and bought some. (click on the link about my brother, you won't be sorry) (probably)

Anyway, back to the fundraiser. The "Packet" that they give the kids had a booklet with pages that the kids were supposed to fill out with "contact information" for people to sell this stuff to. If they brought it back, filled out, the next day, they would get a candy bar, and get to chose a cheap plastic toy out of the prize bucket!
I told my kids that I would buy them a candy bar, and they didn't need the cheap plastic toy from the toy bucket. They could just fish through the garbage and get back the Happy Meal toys that I just through away because I kept stepping on them with my bare feet.

These fundraising people suggest that my kids to sell stuff to our co-workers, neighbors, friends and family.

Our co-workers don't want any of this stuff (Besides, sometimes there are rules against this type of thing at work)
Our family doesn't want any of this stuff.
Our friends don't want any of this stuff.
Our neighbors don't want any of this stuff, and besides, all their kids are selling the same stuff!!

I can't imagine that the school really gets much out of this type of fundraiser. I think the real profits go to the companies who provide the items being sold, and even then, I can't imagine them having much of a profit margin with the amount of money they spend on printing those darn catalogs. My kids fundrasing packet included not one, not two, not even three, but four different catalogs, plus the nifty prize brochure, the order forms, collection envelopes and another sheet with instructions on how to order these things online.

This packet weighed over a pound!!

(Seriously, I got out my postage scale and weighed it. 1.05 pounds to be exact)

So that's one packet per child, times (approximately) 700 kids in the school
700 pounds of paper!

Times that by the amount of schools that these fundraising companies send these packets to, and you're looking at an obscene amount of paper.

That's a lot of dead trees.

Now I don't want to be one of those people who complain about something, but then don't offer any suggetsions. Nope, not me!

I has me an idea!

A while ago, I read about a fundraiser called "Willy Bingo." This fundraiser has the potential for earning $2,000 in mere minutes!

First, you start with a large field. You mark it off in 300 equal sections. You number the sections, and sell them for $10.00 a piece. When all of the sections are sold, someone lets a calf loose on the field.
You wait for the calf to take a dump. Whoever bought the section on which the cow pattie lands wins $1,000! (and the rest goes to the school)

I think it's a brilliant idea! It would be entertaining, because seriously, what's more fun than standing around watching a calf wander around a field waiting for it to................

What? Did you say that you live in an area where this wouldn't work because you don't have access to a field or a calf?

Well, my friends, do I have a solution for you!

Instead of the big field, use the school gym.

Instead of the calf, use a toddler.

Yes, we could call it "Max bingo!"

Unless, of course, you live in a state where gambling is illegal.

Does anybody want to buy some wrapping paper?

Monday, August 18, 2008

Max MacGyver

Remember how Max likes to pretend that his toy cars are garbage cans?
Do you also remember how we've been taking away his cars every time he has an "accident" and I need to wash his underwear?

Due to the frequency and severity of the recent "accidents" Max has been without his cars for quite a while.

A few days ago, I heard the unmistakable sound of Max impersonating the garbage truck. I knew I had put his cars away, so I went to investigate.

Max was sitting in the middle of the living room floor with his cars lined up in a row. He was using the biggest car as a garbage truck, and emptying the "garbage cans" into the truck.

"Max!" I said "How did you get your cars??"

It was then that I realized that instead of being smart and putting the storage box full of his cars in it's special "time out" spot in the top of his closet, I had been very lazy and just stuffed it under the living room couch. (Yes, I have learned something from this experience)

I then put Max's cars away where they should have been in the first place.

Max cried.

And cried.

And cried..............

I reminded him that all he needed to do to get the cars back was to poop IN THE POTTY, and NOT in his underwear.

The next day, I again heard the unmistakable sound of Max's version of the garbage truck, this time coming from his room.
When I went in to investigate, (because I knew that there was no way that he could have reached the cars on the top shelf in his closet) I found him sitting on his bedroom floor with his milk lid collection (yes, he collects milk lids......)

He had the milk lids lined up in a row, and he was using the chocolate milk lid as the garbage truck.

I took the milk lids away.

Because I'm mean.

(Hey! He still hadn't pooped in the potty!)

Max just looked at me like I was nuts, and walked out of the room.

A few hours later, I heard those darned garbage truck noises again.
This time, he's got his shoes lined up as the garbage cans, and one of his church shoes is being used as the garbage truck.

I get down on the floor with him and ask "Max, if I take your shoes away from you, then what will you use to play garbage truck?"
Max looked at me very thoughtfully and said:

"My underwear!!"

Which I thought to be rather appropriate considering all the "garbage" that his underwear has been full of this week.

I've decided that I just can't win this one.

I'm very happy to report that last night, Max did what was required of him, and is now happily playing with his cars.

(I gave him back his milk lids also)

Thursday, August 14, 2008

Three side effects of potty training

Now that we have a newly "potty trained" (and I use that term loosely) child, I've noticed a few side effects that go along with this whole thing.

#1. We don't go anywhere.

While Max is quite comfortable using the potty at home, we've yet to be successful anywhere else.
Last week, we went to Wal Mart, Sears, and the Rec Center. As soon as we got to each of these places, Max would look up at me with those big, sweet eyes and say "I need to go potty!" We will go into the restroom, Max will stand there for almost 2.3 seconds and then say "I don't need to go potty. I also wash my hands."
Due to the fact that Max won't go potty in public, I end up staying home most of the time. This also works out well for me, because I've decided that I'm not going anywhere until my hair grows out. I also get to do my part to reduce my carbon footprint because I won't be using as much gas in the car. (and besides, if I don't go anywhere, I don't need to shave my legs as often)

#2. More Laundry..............Much, much more laundry.

At first, the laundry increased because I now had an extra 15 pairs of underwear to wash.

(and I have to tell you, there's nothing cuter than the south end of my north bound toddler wearing nothing but a pair of Elmo underwear)

However, when the accident-free honeymoon period of this whole "potty trained" thing came to an end, I found that I was washing those cute little underwear three times as often, along with the pants he was wearing when he had his "accident" and also the shirt he was wearing at that time because...............


So, to make an already too long story short, I just wash everything. I've even stopped separating the lights from the darks.

And please, don't even think about leaving me a nasty helpful comment about not separating the clothes. Yes, I know, I'm a slacker mom because I don't separate my toddlers dark clothes from his underwear. Here are three reasons why this is OK.

A. He's going to be growing out of these clothes pretty soon anyway.

B. His clothes are small, I can get them all into one load in the washing machine. This saves energy and water, which, again, reduces the whole carbon footprint thing.

C. See #1 above. We don't go anywhere so nobody will see his faded colors, or the pink tinge of his Spongebob underwear, because, again, WE NEVER GO ANYWHERE!

#3. Streaking

Since Max ends up making a complete change of clothing, (sometimes several times a day) I have decided that he should dress himself. He is three and a half, and quite capable of putting his clothes on (even if they are inside out and backwards) He will even spend 20 minutes meticulously buttoning all three buttons on his polo shirt, however, most of the time he usually just doesn't feel like dressing himself, and prefers to run around ................."swinging free"
This causes a great deal of concern by his siblings who tell him things like:

"Max! Put some clothes on!"
"Max, please get dressed!"
"Hey Max, nobody wants to see THAT!"

But Max doesn't care, because he's three. Today he walked around singing

"Hey! Go put some pants on DUUUUUUUDE!!"

Which, in all honesty, was actually pretty cute the first FORTY OR FIFTY TIMES HE SANG IT, but after that, I started to get a headache and needed to wash down some Motrin with a big Diet Dr. Pepper, and then make some fudge. (I am SO blaming my weight gain on Max's potty training!)

Max is now starting to have quite the fascination with the toilet. Earlier today, we heard him yelling in the bathroom, and when I went in to investigate, I discovered him standing there (without pants) yelling AT the toilet.

"NOT THAT WAY!!! YOU ALSO NEED TO GO FASTER!! NO!!........... NO!!........... NO!!

Apparently, the toilet wasn't flushing fast enough.


I think it probably had something to do with the whole roll toilet paper he had just stuffed in it.

Tuesday, August 5, 2008

Bad hair! Bad, bad, hair!

I'm having a bad hair day.

Wait................. make that a bad hair month.

Last month, I got a haircut, and while I wasn't thrilled with the way it was styled when I left the salon, I was sure that when I got home, I would be able to fix it the way I like, because I always do that.

No dice.

No matter what I did, I couldn't get it to look right.

Now, first of all, I do need to tell you that I LOVE my hairdresser. She usually does a great job. She is cute and bubbly, and it's so much fun to sit and chat with her while she fixes my hair. I actually look forward to getting my hair cut.

I have very few hairdressers in my history. When I was a teenager, I had very long hair, and would just go to our neighbor (who had a salon in her basement) every once in a while to have it trimmed.
Next, I went to a friend of my mom's (who had a salon in her basement) Every time I would go there, she would tell me that "Men don't like women with long hair" and she would try to talk me into cutting it all off. "No" I would always say "I just want a trim."
At one point, I decided that I wanted a perm, and asked her if she would be willing to perm my long hair. She said "Yes, but I would need to take a few inches off the bottom first."

Okay, I could deal with a "few" inches.

Apparently, her idea of "a few" and mine were totally different. I was thinking 3", maybe 4" at the most, but she ended up cutting off about 10" and then the with my hair being curly, it shortened it even more. The length of my hair, which previously had been about 4" past my waistline, was now somewhere in between my shoulder blades.

I was livid!

Needless to say, I never went back to her!

(There. That's a rant that I've been waiting to get off my chest for a few decades)

My next hairdresser was WONDERFUL. Everything I ever wanted in a hairdresser. She made suggestions, but always did exactly what I wanted. She recommended that I cut my hair shorter, but waited until I was ready. She fixed my hair for over 15 years.

Then she quit. Something about wanting to stay home with her son or something. Now, while I totally understand where she's coming from, and I also realize that being home with her son was much more important to her than making sure my hair looked nice, I was not happy about having to find a new hairdresser.

A friend recommended someone she knew and so I went to her. This lady always did a fabulous job on my hair, but we had absolutely nothing in common. She didn't have kids, and I didn't have dogs, so there wasn't much common ground to talk about except the weather, and seriously, how long can you stretch out that conversation?
She was also very busy (because she really is that good) so it was hard to get an appointment with her at a time that was convenient for me to schedule a babysitter for my kids. Of course I could try and make an appointment weeks in advance, but let's face it, I'm incapable of thinking that far ahead.

Next was my current hairdresser. She has always done a great job, so this cut was kind of strange. I always like my hair to curl under, but for the last several weeks, nothing I do will make my hair curl under.

So today, I gave up.

Maybe if I can't get it to curl under, I can try curling it so that it flips up. Maybe that was the look that my hairdresser was going for. I curled my hair so that it flipped up, and when I looked in the mirror, I remembered why I don't like to fix my hair this way.

This is what my hair looked like.

Yeah, I think I need to get another appointment to get my hair cut.

Saturday, August 2, 2008


Recent keyword search on google that led someone to my blog............

"How long does it take to potty train a Snorkie?"


I'm guessing about as long as it takes to potty train a Max? ;0)

(No, we're not quite there yet.)