Hot hands, noisy milk and armpits

Tonight before Max got his pajamas on, he wanted a drink of milk.

I got a clean sippy cup out of the dishwasher, but I couldn't find a suitable lid anywhere in the kitchen. (and by suitable, I mean NOT bumpy, which is how Max describes the sippy cup lids which he has chewed on)
Finally, I looked in the refrigerator and found a sippy cup from earlier in the day which still had about 1/2" of milk left in it.

"Hey Max" I say "Here's some milk."
He looked at it, turned up his nose and said "No. I need new milk."

I explained to him that this milk was exactly the same age as the milk in the jug, but no, he wanted a new sippy cup with new milk.
I said "I'll just fill it up the rest of the way with more milk."
"NO! You not can put that milk in the old milk!"

I opened the lid and showed him "Look, the milk is fine, drink this and I'll fill it up again."
"NO! I NOT NEED THAT MILK! DUMP IT! I NEED NEW MILK!"
I then explained to him that I would not be pouring him any more milk until he drank what was already in the cup.

He gave me a grouchy look.

I put the gallon of milk back in the refrigerator.

"I NEED THE MILK! I NEED THE MILK!!"

I once more told him that all he needed to do was drink the small amount of milk, and I would give him some more.

He lifted the sippy cup to his mouth and said...


GRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR.


GRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!


GRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!!

"SEE! I NOT CAN DRINK THIS MILK!! IT MAKES SOUNDS!!"

"Max, just drink it."

GRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!!

GRRRRRRRRRRRR!!

"IT MAKING SOUNDS! THE MILK IS ALSO MAKING SOUNDS WHEN I TRY AND DRINK IT!

GRRRRRRRRRRRRR!! GRRRRRRRRRRR!! GRRRRRRRRRRRR!!!!

I am now unsuccessfully trying to suppress my laughter. (Seriously, you would laugh too if you heard milk growling at your son) This was only making Max be even grouchier.
"No Max, you will not get any more milk until you finish what is in the sippy cup."

He gave me a rather defiant look and said "I need my armpits to drink the milk"

He then picked up the oven mitts that were sitting on the kitchen counter, put them on his hands, then picked up the sippy cup.
"My hot hands are making the milk make sounds. My armpits will make the milk not be noisy."

He then proceeded to drink the milk which was now mysteriously quiet.

He sat the cup down and said "See, my armpits did make the milk quiet."

I poured the sippy cup full of milk and gave it back to him, and asked "What do you mean, your armpits made the milk quiet?"
He held up his hands, still wearing the blue oven mitts and said "SEE! MY ARMPITS!!"

Armpits,................ oven mitts...........

I guess I can see how he got the two mixed up.




Seriously, never a dull moment.................. never a dull moment.

Therapy Thursday

The year..........2029

The place..........Therapists office

Dr. Therapist: "So CJ, at our last appointment, we spent quite a bit of time discussing your childhood memory of how your mother told you that zucchini tasted like chocolate."

CJ: "Yes, it turned out to be a very traumatic experience for me."

Dr. Therapist: "Were you able to have a dialog with her about this in the last week?"

CJ: "Yes, I called her and we had a long discussion. Apparently, she was just trying to get me to eat something green. I didn't like green food."

Dr. Therapist: "Was this a useful conversation? Were you able to find closure?"

CJ: "Yes, I think I've finally worked my way through this subject. Zucchini tastes like zucchini and chocolate tastes like chocolate. No confusion anymore. I think that I've learned that it's time to let it go and leave this incident in the past. Mom was only trying to do something which she felt was in my best interest. I won't bring it up with her again."

Dr. Therapist: "Good! Good! Excellent CJ, you've made tremendous progress. Now last week at the end of our session, you mentioned something about these flashbacks you've been having. Should we discuss this further and see how you feel about it?"

CJ: "Yes, I think I'm finally ready to talk about it. I believe the flashback comes from an experience I had when I was about two years old. My mom took me to the store to buy some shoes. Apparently, she usually had a hard time finding shoes to fit my chubby feet."

Dr. Therapist: "So your flashback is about shoes?

CJ: "More about this particular shopping trip. I never liked shoe shopping, so when we got to the shoe department at Target, I was in a bad mood."

Dr. Therapist: "Did you not like shoes?"

CJ: "No, I liked shoes, in fact, I rarely took them off. My parents used to take my shoes off of me when they felt I was misbehaving."

Dr. Therapist: "They took your shoes off as a punishment? APPALLING! What things could you have done that would be so terrible that your parents felt they needed to remove your shoes?""

CJ: "They were always saying stuff like ........."CJ, stop jumping on the couch or I'll take your shoes off." or "CJ get your seatbelt on or we're going to take your shoes off" and "CJ, if you let go of my hand in this parking lot, I'm going to take your shoes off.........."

Dr. Therapist: "Hmmmmmmm.......... interesting. I think we may need to examine this more closely, but I think we'll discuss it later. For now let's get back to the shoe department at Target. What happened?"

CJ: "Mom found a pair of shoes that she thought were my size and then wrestled my shoes off."

Dr. Therapist: "And how did this make you feel?"

CJ: "I wasn't very happy, but I dealt with it."

Dr. Therapist: "So it wasn't the act of taking off your shoes that led to the trauma?"

CJ: "No.........No........... it was .........when .........Mom put the new shoes on me.........................."

Cr. Therapist: "Go on, what happened?"

CJ: " She tried to force the shoe on my foot. The shoe was kind of narrow through the arch, and I guess she thought that was why it wasn't going on."

Dr. Therapist: "Was the shoe too small?"

CJ: "No. It was a larger size than the shoes I had been wearing. Mom kept pushing my foot into the shoe. It just wasn't going in! She just kept trying and trying.........and trying......................................(sob)"

Dr. Therapist: "Go on CJ, take your time. Talk when you're ready, I know this type of trauma can be very difficult to talk about after being suppressed for so many years."

CJ: (taking a deep breath) "I'm OK, I can get through this. Mom kept pushing and shoving my foot into the shoe."

Dr. Therapist: "Did it ever go in?"

CJ: "Well, Mom finally took the shoe off and looked............. inside........................."

Dr. Therapist: "Was there something wrong with the shoe?"

CJ: "There was a big wad of tissue paper in the toe, that's why my foot wasn't going in."

Dr. Therapist: "How terrible for you! I honestly can't see how you lived through the trauma! Have you discussed this with your mother?"

CJ: "Oh, I've discussed it all right. I've brought it up on numerous occasions. At first, Mom acted like she couldn't remember the incident, and after that, she would just laugh when I would talk about it."

Dr. Therapist: "Did she ever apologize?"

CJ: "Well, yes, she has said that she's sorry multiple times, and told me that she felt really bad about what happened, but I still can't seem to get over it."

Dr. Therapist: "Our time is nearly over for today. I think we've had some major breakthroughs this session. This week I'd like you to call your mother and discuss this shoe incident as one more item on the growing list of things that she did to traumatize you and scar you for life."

CJ: "Thank you Dr. Therapist, I'll do that."

Dr. Therapist: "You're welcome CJ, I'll see you next week. When you get to the waiting room could you please have my receptionist send in my next patient? The poor guy, if you think you had it bad, you should hear his story. He keeps having a recurring nightmare about Elmo wearing a pink fairy princess costume."

Word verification Wednesday

HEY!!



IT'S WEDNESDAY!!


Word verification Wednesday.




Ready,




Set,




DEFINE!

A great way to really irritate a 3 year old boy

Dressing Elmo TMX in a fairy princess costume.




Because apparently...................


"ELMO NOT IS A GIRL!!! SHE IS ALSO A BOY!!

OUCH!!!

Today, started out as a really nice day.
It lasted that way until about 8:00 pm when Max accidentally head butted me right in the mouth giving me a swollen lip.
Then within a few minutes, another one of my children (who prefers to remain nameless) accidentally knocked this off the doorway just as I was walking through it.




It landed right on top of my head!

THIS REALLY HURT!

I'm pretty sure I have a skull fracture. I think my family needs to wait on me and bring me food all weekend.
What do you think?

Preschool Show and Tell

When Aaron was three, he brought some ....................unusual items for show and tell.

While most kids were bringing things like a sea shell that their grandma brought back from Hawaii, the stuffed Mickey mouse they just got on their latest trip to Disneyland or the toy they got in their Happy meal yesterday, Aaron was a bit more creative with what he wanted to share with the class.

Like the time he brought the Christmas gift given to him by his siblings.

A whoopee cushion.

He LOVED that whoopee cushion. It was yellow and covered in duct tape. (Were you aware that you can fix a leak in a whoopee cushion with duct tape? It totally works)

Anyway, after weeks of begging, and against my better judgement, I let Aaron take the whoopee cushion to show and tell. I couldn't even imagine what his teacher would think about it.

That afternoon when I picked Aaron up from school, I asked him how show and tell went. "What did your teacher think about your whoopee cushion?"

"She blowed it up and sat on it!!"

(seriously, what a cool teacher is she?!)

Apparently, the whoopee cushion was a big hit because the teacher sat on it several times and as Aaron put it "The kids all thinked it was funny!"

Another odd thing I remember him taking to show and tell was his own invention.

"The foil ball"

Aaron liked to get the box of aluminum foil, tear off a sheet and then crumple it into a ball. (And just in case you're wondering, the correct three year old's pronunciation of the foil ball was "foyow baw.")

Aaron took a few of his favorite foil balls to school for show and tell, and as an added bonus, he even decided to take a sheet of plain foil to show everyone how to crumple it up so they could make their own foil ball at home.

(he really did this. Seriously, I couldn't make this stuff up)

Fast forward to this week. Max took these to show and tell.

Aaron made them for him, and he has been playing with them for the last week.

Max calls them "Spaghetti Monsters"

Can you guess what they really are?

The good news, the bad news and WORD VERIFICATION WEDNESDAY!!

The good news is that I currently have a ton of work to do for my business :0)

The bad news is that this has made it so that I have less time for blogging :0(

The good news is that Max is feeling better :0)

The bad news is that he gave all of his germs to me :0(

The good news is that due to my cold, now when I sing, I can hit all the low notes :0)

The bad news is that I still can't sing :0(

The good news is that today I got everything done on my "to do" list :0)

The bad news is that it was yesterday's list :0)

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Ever since Max was a baby we've called him by his nickname "Pookers. Over the years, we've created several different versions of his nickname, for example Pookydoo, Pookerama, Pooks-a-doodle, Pookernoodle, Pooker-doodle-doo, The Pookernator...........

You get the picture.

Sometimes when we don't want Max to know what we're talking about, we will spell words. Unfortunately, Max has caught on to this and can recognize certain words we spell such as "Max" and "nap" will figure out what I'm saying and then "I NOT TAKE A NAP! I ALSO NOT SLEEPY!!! MY EYES ARE ALSO OPEN!!!!
For a while, we used code words such as "siesta" instead of nap. The kid caught on to that too.

So last week, I started using pig latin.

Today, I needed to run a quick errand and didn't want Max to freak out when he found out I was leaving without him so I asked Brielle to "Atch way the id kay while I oh gay to the ore stay."

Max heard this and said....

"I NOT AN IDKAY!! I'm POOKERAMA!! POOKERAMA!! POOKERAAAAAAAMMMMAAA!!!

I wonder how long it would take him to figure out "Ubbi dubbi"*

**********************************************************************

On another note, do you think that coughing can count as a cardio workout?

**********************************************************************


And now for the game you've all been waiting for!

WORD VERIFICATION WEDNESDAY!!!

Go to the comment form, look at the word verification code, come up with a definition for it and type it in the comment box!
It's fun!!

I was disappointed last week that nobody wanted to answer my essay question about the wind speed velocity of an African swallow vs a European swallow.

(sigh)

It's OK. I don't feel too bad.

really.

Today, if you don't feel like defining a WV word, you may leave a comment in pig latin. (however, if anyone leaves a comment in ubbi dubbi, I will not take responsibility for the mocking that is sure to ensue) (I might even participate in said mocking) (In fact, I will probably be the instigator of the mocking)

Ready, Set, GO!




* If you don't recognize this language, then you are just way. Too. Young.