The first time my son rode an escalator

You are welcome on-lookers at Park Plaza Mall.

I need to tell the whole story though.

I have been out of town for four days. Translation: I have been missing my son more than I'd miss air at the bottom of the ocean.

When I picked him up at Susan's, his first words to me were, "Momma! I love you!" "Momma, we go to Chick a Lay (Chik-fil-a)?"

**Reminder: My son has been coming downstairs in the middle of the night and finding Chucky-like ways to wake me up in a possessed boy induced panic.**

I said, "Sure, Sam. We can go to the mall and eat Chik-fil-a. Do you want to pick out a lollipop at the candy store that you can have if you don't come downstairs tonight?"

He said, "YAY!"

Then there was a pause. And he says, "Momma, I sleep downstairs with you tonight?"

This child is ridiculous.

I said, "Sam you have to stay upstairs so you can get your lollipop."

He says, "you said I not get on the stairs! I sleep down stairs wif you so I not get on the stairs!"

I've said it before, but it bears repeating, being this child's parent scares the be-Jesus out of me. 

We worked it out where we would go to the mall, eat our chicken, then pick out a lollipop (a big one for our reward for sleeping upstairs and not coming downstairs, specifically. And a small candy for tonight just for being a good boy).  

After we ate our chicken, we headed to the candy store. And the first thing we saw were the lollipops!

 

 

 

 

Check out the joy on this child's face!

The saying, "Giddy like a kid in a candy store," has new meaning to me. We had so much fun!

He kept saying, "Momma, I get dis lollipop. No I get dis lollipop. I have dis big one right here. No, momma, dis one is too heavy." 

Once we picked our lollipop, we picked out some candy to get too. He ended up with peach-os, some grapefruit gummies (FYI: If you hate grapefruit already, gummifying it and coating it in sugar helps it about as much as I imagine gummifying poop and covering it in sugar does... it's still shit no matter how you slice it), some candy blocks, and a giant gummy snake. 

I got Justin some "zots" and I got myself a good old fashioned mommy favorite: grand marnier chocolates (mmmm chocolate and liqueur). 

As we checked out, Sam decided that his life couldn't continue unless he touched every piece of candy in a two mile radius. This was unsettling to me. 

So I said, "Sam Turner, if you don't get over here and stop touching everything, I'm giving your candy to a homeless person." 

The lady checking us out gave me this concerned look and said, with a straight face, "Please don't do that." 

I'm not sure if her concern was Sam losing his candy or a homeless person losing his teeth, but either way, my son started behaving. I call that a win. (She may have called DHS)

The first time he tried the candy blocks, he made this face: 

They were really hard to chew.

We finished up there and went to leave. Now, when we got to the mall we had to go down the escalator.

There might as well have been a creepy clown handing out rusty razor blades blocking the escalator.

He screamed, "NO MOMMY. NO. NO. NO. Hold me!"

He is darn near 40 lbs, ya'll. I do not need to be carrying this child.

But I did and we made it.

So on the way back to the escalators, I said, "Sam, can you be a big boy and get on the escalator yourself?"

He said, "I can try a little bit."

I'll take it.

Now to explain this video is going to be tricky. Watch it. When it becomes blurry, listen and listen hard. What ensued while this video took place had many a'people in the mall laughing hysterically.

To translate what you heard in the video: "Uh, Uh, Will you get me?! huh... Huh.... Wimper... cry... Uh, Uh, Will you get my drink?!"

So as you can see, his apprehension about the escalator didn't exactly pan out for him. He ended up riding up the escalator. On his stomach. Feet above head. 

Why did you see our candy bag and not the whole ordeal? 

Call me crazy, but I decided that the video was not as important as helping my child up. But I forgot to stop it. 

I realized I forgot to stop it once I got him standing and I turned it off.

The next thing my child said was, "I AM NOT HAVING FUN!!!!" 

Meanwhile, the entire mall who witnessed this is still laughing.

Sam's Trip to Jenni's and the Morning After

My son has become obsessed... OBSESSED... with going to baby Lilli's house (one of his friends from daycare). But he doesn't ask to go to baby Lilli's, he asks to go to "Jenni's house." Jenni is Lilli's mom.

Sam thinks Jenni is his girlfriend. It is borderline creepy, but mostly cute. (Jenni may beg to differ here)

This all started because Lilli had her birthday party last weekend and because I was working, we weren't able to go. We kept telling Sam that we'd try, but it just didn't work out. Apparently during all this, Lilli having a trampoline was mentioned and that's all it took for Sam. Jenni would be there AND there would be a trampoline. Nuff said.

When Sunday rolled around and Sam noticed we hadn't gone to Jenni's, he became obsessed.

"When are we going to Jenni's?"

"Momma, I supposed to go to Jenni's and jump on da trampoline."

"I want to go to Jenni's house."

"Momma, it is not nice to not let me go to Jenni's house!"

Over and over and over.

So I texted Jenni, hopeful we could work something out.

We decided that last night would be our night. She would pick him up from Susan's and I'd just go to her house after work.

And they had so much fun! They jumped and played and played hide and seek... They just had a grand old time.

This picture is of one of Lilli's toys that since the dawn of time, she has named Sam.

I mean, I see the resemblance...

This cracks me up. Mainly because it is CLEAR to me why she has named this toy Sam. Look at that short, stocky body. Look at the hair. Look at that GIANT FAT HEAD!

If Sam ever needs glasses, he's getting turquoise round ones. That's all there is to it. 

As we were leaving their house, Jenni told Sam he could come back. I told her in that moment that was a mistake but there was no going back at that point. 

Sam and I got to the car and were pulling out of the driveway when he says, "I want to go to Jenni's house."

I said, "Well Jenni said you could come back whenever you wanted so I'm sure we will go back."

Sam said, in an angry rage, "I know. I want to go to Jenni's NOW!"

I could not contain my laughter. He knew damn well what was said, he was exercising the invitation! 

Later on as we got closer to home, I guess Sam was looking out the window and saw the rain drops. From the back seat, I hear, "Momma, what makes dat condensation on da window?"

Como say what?

Did my three year old just ask me to explain condensation?! 

How do you even know the word condensation?! Let alone use it correctly and inquire about its origins?!

What I should have said was, "Sam it was raining earlier and that is what has caused the condensation on the window. Good job asking questions!"

What I did say was, "How do you know the word condensation?! Why don't you wait until 4th grade science to find out about it?!"

That is parenting at its finest, ya'll. 

When we got home, I made Sam an offer to try to convince him to stay in the damned bed all night and not creep me the crap out at all hours of the morning. I told him if he stayed in bed all night until I came upstairs to get him up, I'd give him a big lollipop. 

He started yelling for me at 4 am. 

I got upstairs and he said, "Can I still have a lollipop?"

I said, "If you will stay in the bed."

I came back downstairs. I wasn't going to be able to go back to sleep and it wasn't worth it to try so I started getting ready/morning routine. At about 5:15 am I came out of my room into the living room to find my dog asleep in one recliner and my child asleep in the other. 

Well that's now I have I left it... 

Question: How early is too early to threaten to beat your child until his voice changes? Is that still frowned upon? 

He got upstairs before I had a chance to deliver, either way, so I guess we are good. And he has yelled for me no less than 5 times since that moment. 

I can't wait for him to ask me if he is going to get a lollipop... 

Why My Son Completely Freaks Me Out

Seriously... the kid has perfected creepy.

I've talked on here several times about how my son, beginning around 4 am, refuses to remain in his room.

He used to call for me and I'd come up there and get him (or politely tell him to "go the eff to sleep"--if you haven't heard that children's book read by Samuel L. Jackson you haven't lived. Open a a new tab now and go here).

Nowadays, it isn't so simple. It starts around 4 am, he might, MIGHT yell for me once. If I don't apparate into his room in 3 seconds or less, here he comes down the stairs... THUMP THUMP THUMP (that's what I hear from my room).

Then I tell him to get his happy butt back upstairs (I don't even carry him anymore. I just stand there and watch him walk back up and go back in his room). He does. And anywhere from 2 minutes to 20 minutes later, he comes back.

Rinse and repeat until about 6 am when I declare the battle lost and we just get up anyway.

The last few days, though, he has taken it to a whole new level.

Yesterday morning, I woke up at 4 am on my own.

So I thought...

Until I saw something sitting at the foot of the bed. That something, was my son.

Sitting on the inside of the bed (not the edge like he had just gotten there)...

Indian-style.

Staring at me...


Me sleeping... (Yes I look this amazing while sleeping)

Sam watching me sleep...



How creepy is this?!

Really it was more like how Sam in Benny and Joon keeps popping up in weird places and just stares... like this... (0:27)

http://youtu.be/AL-5_ceNc-s?t=27s

The unfortunate thing about this was my immediate reaction to things I'm not expecting to be in the bed with me is to donkey kick them so they will get away from me. He's lucky I realized it was him and he didn't fly across the room.

Also yesterday morning, after sending him to bed for WATCHING HIS MOTHER WHILE SHE SLEEPS, I was in the bathroom getting ready for work. I think all is well with the world until I open the bathroom door.

There is my son. Sitting in the floor of my bedroom in the pitch black dark... rolling a dump truck.

Rolling a dump truck in the dark.

Didn't make a sound. Never woke Justin up to tell him he came downstairs. Never knocked on the door to announce his presence to me. Just sat there and rolled his dump truck... back and forth... back and forth... back and forth...

And then, there was a few days ago, when we went through the saga of "back to bed... back downstairs... back to bed again" and I had gotten ready for work.

And I made the mistake of opening the bathroom door...


There he was... Like this... just standing there...

There is no telling how long he was standing there. He never spoke. He never knocked at the door.

It was like he just stood there, "I'm waiting for you mommy. Always waiting..."

Creepy.

This morning though, I have to say, no creepiness to speak of.

He started down the stairs at 5:30 am and I met him at the base of the stairs since I heard him coming.

And I told him to go back upstairs because it was too early.

He began to cry and said, "But I want you mommy!"

I said, "Sam are you scared?"

He nodded his head as he cried.

I said, "And what are we supposed to do when we are scared?"

He said, "Pray to Jeeee heeee heee zus!"

I said, "That's right. We pray to Jesus when we are scared. Did you pray to Jesus when you got scared?"

He said, "You come wif me and pway to Jesus?"

How do you say no to that?

And at least he knows to pray to Jesus. I don't have to worry about bringing over a priest with holy water anytime soon...

Things that melt my heart

I can't just leave things on muh blog all hater-ade with the throat punching.

And Sam has been super sweet and amazing lately. So without further adieu...

1) Sam is really concerned about my back. He asks me if he can kiss it and make it better.

2) Lately, he has said things like, "mommy I love you so much!" and "mommy you is my bestest friend" and "mommy I could hug and kiss you all day!"

Presh. Us. OMG

3) This morning we were icing cupcakes for his Valentines party. He was handing me the cupcakes and I was piping the icing. At the end, I had icing left but no more cupcakes. I said, "Sam, you wanna do something fun?"

He said: "yeah!"

I said, "open your mouth."

He did and I squirted some icing in his mouth.

His reaction was AMAZING Y'ALL!

He makes this awful face and shakes his head and smacks his lips and says, "Mommy! Why did you do dat?! (pause and change face to glee) Momma, dat was a GOOD IDEA!"

I didn't think I was going to quit laughing.

4) The other day I asked Sam to pick up his toys. After 45 minutes, he comes up to me and says, "Momma. Cleaning makes me crazy."

5) Sam is on a new kick of saying he us afraid of the dark so he can come downstairs and sleep with mom momma and daddy. This works with daddy. Notsomuch with momma.

This morning he came downstairs and I told him to take his happy butt back upstairs and get back in bed. His response?

"But momma. I will be frightened without you."

Nice try. Heart melted. But get back in bed.

6) He has started this new thing where when I drop him off at Susan's he insists on looking out the window and waving at me until I'm out of sight.

Gets me every time.

Things that make me throat-punchy

In no particular order...

1) Antibiotics.

Really medicine of any kind. I don't even like taking Tylenol.

2) Putting sheets on a bed.

It should be called "mattress wrestling" because that's what it is. And half the time I don't even win the match. I just go all "midnight Monopoly" on it and quit in a violent rage.

3) Talking about myself in front of a group.

I recently joined Toastmasters to better my public speaking skills. I need to get better so that the next time I speak in front of the Chancellor I don't sound like Elmer Fudd trying to catch a wascally wabbit.

Today a table topic was thrown my way. The question was, "have you ever had a crush on a friend's boyfriend?"

Throat. Punchy. (btw... Dodged the question like a boss)

4) Having to explain to my child why he can't eat what the other kids are eating.

Disclaimer: this one came from an experience today. If you are a mom that brought something Sam couldn't have, this is my being angry at the situation, not at you. I promise.

I don't expect everyone to cater to my son's allergies. That would be ridiculous. And we normally do really well when there are snacks around that Sam can't have.

But today at his Valentines party at daycare, there was so much he couldn't have! Normally it is just one or two things, no big deal.

Two kinds of cookies, brownies, and cupcakes. Not to mention the cheese tray and the peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.

Now there were dairy free cupcakes that I made and some rice Krispy treats he could have. And when Susan saw the writing on the wall that there was going to be a lot he couldn't have, she ran out to Kroger (with strep I might add) to get some dairy free cookies for him.

But it still breaks my heart. And he looks so sad. And it makes me throat punchy.

5) Whistling.

There is a lady at work that whistles while she works.

My office has a balcony that overlooks a room below. When I hear her whistling down there, I picture myself jumping off of my balcony and tackling her Batman style. Instead, I sit there and let my blood pressure get dangerously high.

By the way, she is a lovely lady that I adore. Save the whistling.

That's today's edition of why Rikki shod be medicated. Keep it classy.

Why Valentine's Day is Unfair for Men

This isn't a new idea. It just further demonstrates why I dislike Valentines Day.

The weeks leading up to Valentines Day are riddled with ads geared toward men.

Every kiss begins with Kay...

Wow her with this bracelet, or earrings, and something heart shaped and studded in diamonds. (hint for dudes: girls never buy themselves heart shaped anything. Ever. Take note)....

These chocolates are amazing, this massage is mind blowing...

Here is this special on roses for $65...

I even heard one that said you could give her the gift of hair removal. You know, because nothing says romance like mustache-be-gone.

What is there for women to do?

There is a new phenomenon of getting your husband boudoir pics.

You go to a photographer (read: another man), dress in sexy lingerie (where another man can see you in it), pose in sexy poses in sexy lingerie (again, in the presence of another man), to then bring home the PICTURES to your husband while probably wearing yoga pants.

Not romantic. And also would on any other day of the year send your husband into a roidlike rage. But whatever.

Really, if you break it down, men have to spend a minimum of $100 (Justin excluded because I'm a "hater") in order to not be a thoughtless asshole on the one romantic day of the year that is impossible to forget.

What do women have to do?

Come home. Take off clothes. Stand there and wait for it.

That's it.

People say we should wear lingerie.

That's unnecessary.

Want to be the best wife in the history of ever?

Get naked and spring for the $1.29 can of whipped cream. Check and mate.

So to all the dudes... Sucks to be you. I hope your wife is awesome and you aren't lactose intolerant. You deserve it after making it through this holiday.

**Edit: It has come to my attention that men would like to try the woman's role in Valentine's Day.

DO NOT DO IT!

The Naked Man is a myth! This will surely backfire! Stick with the flowers and chocolates for your honey and just refer her to my blog for a night of fun. :-)

Fat Tuesday, Ash Wednesday, and the dreaded V-Day

Fat Tuesday is tomorrow. You know what that means?!

Nothing to me, actually. Being a glutton for the sake of being a glutton doesn't exactly appeal to me. The idea is to apparently eat and drink all you can handle because the season of Lent is upon us and that shit is forbidden then.

This makes me think of all the people that told me to "sleep as much as you can before the baby arrives." Yeah, because you can store that up.

Forgive my cynical nature with this, but sleeping for a week straight is little consolation for the 4th night up in a row dealing with a crying baby.

Much in the same respect, wallowing in sin just before you purify yourself makes about as much sense to me.

So, I will not be celebrating Fat Tuesday.

I will be using it as reflection for what my behavior change should be for Lent this year. I haven't quite settled on what I want to do this year. I've gone on this rant before about how too many people declare a diet for God because it is Lent. Or people give up something that isn't difficult at all to give up just so they can say they succeeded.

That's not what this is about. This is about self-reflection.

What is keeping you from experiencing God's glory in your life?

What do you know you need to be doing better but you keep ignoring it because it is hard?

You know what it is. You are trying not to admit it but you know what it is.

Do you put sleep above your relationship with God?

Do you put immediate pleasure (food, internet, games, distractions in general) above your relationship with God?

Do you let laziness get in the way of serving others you should be serving?

Do you allow temptation in your life where you know it is hurting it?

What is it for you? That is what you should change for Lent.

Lent is about getting your relationship right with God. What are you not doing that you should be or doing that you shouldn't be? This is the time to change it.

And if those cokes really are an issue with you, fine. Then cut it out. But every time you are tempted to go back, turn to God instead.

That is with anything you intend to change. Change is hard. But the point of the Lenten season is to recognize a barrier to your relationship with God and actively work to remove the barrier.

So when Ash Wednesday rolls around, I will have spent Fat Tuesday planning how to remove my barrier. It will be hard but it will be worth it.

Now, to switch gears, Thursday will roll around and my guess is I will roll my eyes 1592 times. This is why...

Valentine's Day is fine. I don't judge people for celebrating it. It isn't that. I'm not a cranky single person (clearly, I'm happily married).

But I despise how commercialized it is! Ugh. Ew.

I already don't like jewelry much (other than my pearls and wedding ring, I don't need more jewelry). I don't want chocolate. I sure don't want flowers on the day every one else and their mother (literally, their mother gets them too) gets flowers.

You know what I want? To come home to a clean house. I want to be shown how important I am to you. But is this specific to Valentine's Day?

Ummm, no.

It just seems like the day to celebrate your love in expensive and overblown ways (which I'm still against anytime) is your anniversary.

I know I've always been simple and never much been into gifts anyway, but its the commercials luring men to the jewelry store and the complete lack of thought and creativity behind flowers and some over-sized teddy bear with a giant heart on it.... gag. I'll pass.

That being said, yes Justin and I will celebrate. Not on Thursday. Not with gifts. We'll go out and have dinner on some other night and enjoy each other's company. I just don't see the need in ANOTHER holiday that begs for gifts and public shows of affection. That is a strain on our budget and especially if there isn't something one of us wants or needs... that's just buying for the sake of buying.

Chronicles of the Stomach Bug 2013

Only a mother could see a potential blog post from a stomach bug.

Sam came down with the stomach bug today. This was no surprise to me as two kids at daycare came down with it this morning.

Isn't it nice when kids share?

When I got home, Sam seemed to be in good spirits. I immediately got him a puke bowl and commenced cuddle time.

We ended up lying on the couch watching cartoons when the dreaded heaving started again. And we barely missed our puke bowl opportunity...

So as I sit there comforting my son while sitting in a pile of his vomit, I called for Justin to bring me some new pants.

When Sam was done, I got him cleaned up, then proceeded to change pants. About the time the pants came down, Sam scooted behind me and loudly exclaimed, "BOOTY! Booty booty booty!"

He is sweet.

He then asked for a chocolate cookie , drink of Gatorade, and then RAWRED at me like a dinosaur (which sounds a lot like the beginning of another puking episode so I lunged for the bowl, only to hear Sam say, "no mommy. Dat was jus a hiccup!")

I'm sure I'll have more to chronicle after this long night, I just had to get that out.

I didn't know Petco had it in them...

Sometimes being a parent is hard.

Like when your kid is sick... or when you have to explain where babies come from... or when you leave your 3 year old in charge of getting the dog a present...

Oh you haven't heard of that last one?

Let me tell you all about it.

For Christmas, Sam noticed that Skipper didn't have a stocking.

BLASPHEMY!

At least Sam thought so. He insisted we get the dog a present. So Justin and Sam head off to our local Petco to get the dog a Christmas present. Oh. Joy.

When they get back, the first thing out of Justin's mouth was, "Sam picked out toys for Skipper."

I thought to myself, "Well wasn't that the idea?" But if he felt the need to announce it again, more power to him.

Then I saw it.

It.

The "dog" toy that my son picked out at Petco.

Now, what does that look like to you? 

Pervert. 

That's what it looks like to me too. But still. You are perverted. 

And also, WHY ARE THEY SELLING THIS AT PETCO?!

When I saw it, I just blankly stared at Justin. And my thought process was something like, "I know the kid doesn't realize what he picked out, but surely the adult did. Why did we pay money for this?!"

So when company comes over now, I'm constantly on the alert for where The Big Pink is.  Because, honestly, is there a guest in your house in the world that would pick it up and throw it for the dog?!

Um, no. But they may never come back to your house if they catch eye of it without explanation. 

Anyway, it is unlike me to pass up an opportunity to be perverted and/or awkward. So what do I do? 

I randomly text this picture to some friends. And randomly show it to friend without warning. And their reactions every time? 

"BAHAHAHAHAHA"

Every. Time. 

So Justin and I have decided that The Big Pink is a part of the family now. It is awkward enough to be, so why not embrace it. Justin's plan was to take it with us on family trips, and then as we are standing in front of the Disney World sign or the Washington Monument... take one with The Big Pink as well. Because the therapy we will need to pay for Sam isn't quite expensive enough. You know? 

So I leave you with this... 

When your Monday starts to get you down. And you don't know if you can take it any more. Just remember... 

The Big Pink is probably awkwardly laying in my living room floor... 

Happy Monday, folks. You're welcome for the nightmares.