Farting at the dinner table.

G stood up from his seat at the table, turned his back to E and I and pulled his pants down to just under his little tushy.

I said, "G sit down, it's dinnertime. And please put your naked butt away."

G: "See dis? See my butt?"

Me: "Yes, now sit down."

G: "Howd on, mommy, I need fart."

Me: "How about you don't fart at the dinner table? That is gross. Now sit down in your chair before I paddle your butt."

G: "Oh, I did it. I toot."

Me: "You're really pushing it, mister. You need to apologize for farting bare butted at the dinner table and sit right back down."

G: "Oh, you smell dat? I so stanky. Dat was big stanky."

I'm dying here, I'm holding back a laugh that is threatening to explode my head but I have to be the adult and let G know that it is NOT okay to fart at the dinner table. E is looking at me with tears in his eyes, not because of the odor of the stanky fart itself but because he dares not open his mouth lest his laughter come roaring out.

When we both managed to get ourselves under control all E could do was cough out, "He's so your son."

Whatever, dude.

"Mommy you my fwiend?"

" I am your mother, the first mile of your road. Me and all my obvious and hidden limitations. That means that in addition to possibly wrecking you, I have the chance to give to you what was given to me: a decent childhood, more good memories than bad, some values, a sense of a tribe, a run at happiness. You can’t imagine how seriously I take that—even as I fail you. Mothering you is the first thing of consequence that I have ever done."- Kelly Corrigan (Lift)

My new struggle is how to respond to G when he says, "Mommy you my fwiend?" Or if he wants something and he can't have it he'll say, "Mommy you be my fwiend again?" My heart does a flip whenever he tells me, "Mommy you my fwiend!" but my heard is conflicted when he asks, "Mommy, you be my fwiend?"

I have seen parents who are friends with their children and while some aspects of that kind of relationship are lovely, in the long run I don't think it benefits the kiddo. I see a lack of respect between children who consider their parents friends because they treat and talk to their parents as they treat and talk to their friends. And I see the parent having a hard time disciplining their child because the parent wants to stay their child's friend and not make the child (I'm talking teenagers here too) mad at them. And the child has a hard time taking their parent seriously when the parent is being the parent because the child has known the parent as a friend. Friends don't discipline/reprimand each other. When said children are adults, sure; I counted my dad as one of my very best friends...after about age 22 or so.

But I want to be G's friend. Everything inside of me screams to be his friend and yet my head tells me no. So right now the only answer I can give him when he asks me the question is, "I'm your mommy!" Sometimes he'll retort with, "You're my parent." I don't want to say, "No, I'm not your friend." I don't know why I can't say it but I don't want to reject him. I have also said, "Well I'm your friend but I'm your mommy first."

Being his mommy is more important than being his friend, especially at this stage where the ratio of discipline to love is 50/50 (i.e. he gets disciplined as much as he gets loved on because he's in a stinker 3 year old stage).

And this ^ is just because it's my blog and I can do it if I want to. He laughed.

***

I am not your friend
I am your parent.

I will stalk you,

flip out on you,

lecture you,

drive you insane,

be your worst nightmare

and hunt you down when needed

Because I love you.

When you understand that

I will know you're a responsible adult.

You will never find someone who

loves, prays, cares and worries

about you

more than me.

This is my promise to you.

I'm not wired for math or science

http://articles.latimes.com/2010/jan/26/science/la-sci-math26-2010jan26

This is another one of my home school fears. I am not good at math and I'm even worse at science. Heck, when I was in college doing generals in my late 20's I had to have my teenage sister help me get through my math classes. Help as in tutor and teach me, not do it for me. Not for lack of trying, I even offered her money. Anyway I have math and science anxiety, I know i do. So how am I going to start G off right? I realize that he's not female and the study was female teachers' influence on female students but the problem still exists that I am female and teaching him. Thank goodness for Skype, maybe Aunty Sarah can help me and poor G out when I get stuck!

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

Girls have long embraced the stereotype that they're not supposed to be good at math. It seems they may be getting the idea from a surprising source -- their female elementary school teachers.

First- and second-graders whose teachers were anxious about mathematics were more likely to believe that boys are hard-wired for math and that girls are better at reading, a new study has found. What's more, the girls who bought into that notion scored significantly lower on math tests than their peers who didn't.

The gap in test scores was not apparent in the fall when the kids were first tested, but emerged after spending a school year in the classrooms of teachers with math anxiety. That detail convinced researchers that the teachers -- all of them women -- were the culprits.

"Teachers who are anxious about their own math abilities are translating some of that to their kids," said University of Chicago psychologist Sian Beilock, who led the study published Monday in Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences.

The study is the first both to examine the math attitudes of teachers and to show that those feelings can spread to students and undermine their performance, said coauthor Susan C. Levine, also a psychologist at the University of Chicago.

Experts said the findings could have implications for policymakers seeking to draw more women into careers in science, engineering and technology. Instead of focusing their efforts solely on female students, they could devise interventions for teachers as well.

"We always need more excellent scientists and mathematicians," said University of Wisconsin psychology professor Janet Shibley Hyde, who examines gender differences in math performance and wasn't involved in the study. "They are the force that drives the nation's economy. You don't want to dismiss 50% of the potential scientists because they're girls rather than boys. That's just crazy."

Beilock and her colleagues recruited seven female teachers from a Midwestern school district and assessed their level of math anxiety -- a condition in which the prospect of doing math evokes unpleasant physiological and emotional responses. Such anxiety is more common among women, but isn't related to math abilities.

The researchers also gave math tests to 117 of the teachers' students and assessed their beliefs about math and gender at the beginning and the end of the school year.

By the spring, 20 of the girls subscribed to the math-is-for-boys stereotype; they were more likely to have been taught by math-anxious teachers. The girls scored an average of 102.5 on a test that asked them to count shapes and do simple addition and subtraction.

The average scores were higher for the other students: 107.8 for the remaining 45 girls and 107.7 for the 52 boys.

Beilock said she and her colleagues weren't sure exactly how the angst was transmitted from teachers to students.

Perhaps math-anxious teachers call on girls to solve math problems less frequently; praise boys more effusively; or simply imply that it's not important for girls to be good at math.

The teachers could also telegraph their own discomfort with math by hesitating when answering questions or speaking in a different tone of voice, and some girls internalize that attitude, Beilock said.

When girls see women struggling with math, it "contributes to the stereotype that math is for males," Hyde said. "It's kind of like the Barbie who said, 'Math is hard.' "

Studies have shown that girls have just as much math ability as boys. In a 2008 report in the journal Science, Hyde and her colleagues analyzed the math test scores of more than 7 million American students in grades 2 through 11 and found no difference between boys and girls at any grade level.

A study published this month by some of the same researchers examined the math performance of nearly half a million 14-to-16-year-olds in 69 countries. That report, in Psychological Bulletin, also found that boys and girls scored essentially the same, and that girls did better if they lived in countries where many women pursued careers in math and science.

The gap that emerged in the new study may seem small, but because math is a cumulative subject, its long-term consequences may be significant, researchers said. By high school, if girls don't take advanced math and science classes, they're effectively shutting themselves out of certain college majors and, thus, many career options.

"There's a snowball effect," Beilock said.

Marcia C. Linn, a professor of development and cognition at UC Berkeley's Graduate School of Education, said the results were "disheartening," though not surprising. But she questioned whether it was fair to single out teachers.

"It's not just their teachers," she said. "It's the textbook, and it's a new conception of mathematics."

But Hyde pointed out that if the main problem were a boring curriculum, boys would be affected in addition to girls.

The study raises important questions about the education of elementary school teachers. Only 33% of kindergarten, first- and second-grade teachers took a course in probability and statistics in college, and only 13% took calculus, Beilock said.

More math training -- in college and afterward -- might improve teachers' confidence.

But the stereotype will probably persist as long as it remains acceptable for women to express a fear of math.

"You don't hear people going around bragging about the fact that they can't read, but you do hear people say, 'Oh, I don't want to calculate the bill,' " Beilock said.

keep your hands to yourself

This is something I have to say several times a day lately to G. It seems to specifically pertain to poor Siren. This morning G was being his typical handful of a self. He was laying on Siren who was laying on her dog bed. I was unloading the dishwasher and so they were just barely within eyesight but I wasn't watching them. All of a sudden I hear Siren snap (you know, that scary growl bark thing) and G started crying.

Crap.

Siren has snapped at G before, but it was when he was just learning to crawl and she got in big trouble then. I asked G what happened and he said, "Siwen yell at me." I said, "Did she hurt you?" "Yeah." (said in the most whiny voice ever of course). I said, "Were you not keeping your hands to yourself like I've told you 100 gazillion times?" "Yeah, I bite her." "What? You bit Siren?" "Yeah, I bite her."

Greaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaat. Now we're on to biting.

I marched him over to Siren who was cowering because she figured she was in really, really big trouble. I told her she was a bad girl but I also made G apologize to her. He said, "Sowwy I bite you Siwen, sowwy." Then I had him pet her head and give her a little hug. I did that just because he was acting like he was scared of her.

Now before you get all up in my business let me say that Siren puts up with a lot from G so this had to have actually hurt her for her to snap at him. And we NEVER leave G alone with either dog because, let's face it, a dog is an animal and unpredictable enough that we'd be stupid to "trust" either of them in this fashion.

So how did I handle that one? Right? Wrong? You're a dog hater and you think Siren should be shot? You're a kid hater and you think we should sell G to the circus?

And just because I can, here's a quick slideshow of G and Siren together, a few pictures from when G was itty bitty and a few over the last few months. Be careful, if you're one of those dog haters mentioned above these pictures might just make you fall in love with her, drool and all.

A Boy and His Dog Edgar Guest   A boy and his dog make a glorious pair: No better friendship is found anywhere, For they talk and they walk and they run and they play, And they have their deep secrets for many a day; And that boy has a comrade who thinks and who feels, Who walks down the road with a dog at his heels.  He may go where he will and his dog will be there, May revel in mud and his dog will not care; Faithful he'll stay for the slightest command And bark with delight at the touch of his hand; Oh, he owns a treasure which nobody steals, Who walks down the road with a dog at his heels.  No other can lure him away from his side; He's proof against riches and station and pride; Fine dress does not charm him, and flattery's breath Is lost on the dog, for he's faithful to death; He sees the great soul which the body conceals-- Oh, it's great to be young with a dog at your heels!

Wipe my butt

G: "Mom, I in da bafroom."

Me: "Okay, do you need my help or something?"

G: "Yes!"

Me: "Did you go poop?"

G: "Yes!"

Me: "Is it a stinky one?"

G: "Yes!"

Me: "Then why the heck would I want to come in there?"
G: "Because you love me."

Damnit, he got me again.

Hi, I'm from the 70's & 80's and I'm Tupperware poor

I was born in the late 70's and I can remember not only the presence of Tupperware but it's super popularity. It still exists even though it's not as popular as it once was. Now we have all sorts of stuff like Pampered Chef and the like. What's the point of this post? Well I'm thinking back to all the pieces of Tupperware in my life when I was younger and I realized something. If I factor in inflation/cost of living, etc. that means even way back when, in the 1970's and 80's Tupperware was expensive. And everybody had it. A lot of it. I wonder if more parents could have afforded to pay for their child's college education if they hadn't invested their earnings in Tupperware.

I was looking for some new salt and pepper shakers and some Tupperware ones came up. I was about to just X out of it because I'm not paying $20+ for a set of s&p shakers. Then I realized why they were that much, because they're vintage. VINTAGE? If items that I grew up with are considered vintage doesn't that kind of make me vintage? I'm turning 34 this year, you know, and didn't think that hitting my 30's made me old but now that I'm hitting my mid-30's (gasp!) I guess I am starting to qualify?

I remember these sitting on my grandma's stove. :) I seem to remember another milkglass type container too but I don't remember what it was.

Hey! I have these, without the case. On eBay they're listed at $40! I remember using them for school projects and just for fun. Thanks to my mom I have them for G as well. We'll get lots of fun time with them when G gets a little more coordinated in the drawing department. :) Great, now I kinda want the case.
Haha, these made me laugh. I grew up with these bad boys right there! I wonder if my mom still has them as her salt and pepper shakers. I'm willing to bet she does! The ones I found that I loved are hot pink and green. Think I can sneak those by E?
I wanted to buy this so bad. I TOTALLY remember having the majority of these pieces at Granny B's house. I specifically remember making kool-aid in that pitcher just like Granny B did all the time! Except mine was just water from the hose outside, no kool-aid or sugar. I remember eating cereal out of those bowls!!!
Would you laugh if I told you that this has the wrong lid? There is a light blue version and it has that blue part that you push with your thumb to release or set the suction. How do I do know this? Because I have this pitcher in my cupboard. In fact that reminds me, I haven't made kool-aid in awhile (as if G needs sugar?). I had the brown one too (I can't remember if I stole them or if my mom gave them to me?) but I gave it to my sister once she had her own place because I knew she'd get a kick out of it! My parents every rarely ever made juice but there was always kool-aid in one of these bad boys!
Who knows about the Pick-A-Deli? We said it really fast so it'd be picadelli (circus). There was a restaurant on the drive home from Granny's that was named that. It was south of Bonners Ferry I believe and sat up on the left hand side if travelling southbound on 95. Anyway, the Pick-A-Deli...celery in one side, carrots in the other. Or cucumbers in vinegar and water, yum!
And then of course there were the big serving bowls for things like potato salad, etc. that would be taken to church and to each other's houses for holiday meals, etc. I remember seeing my maiden name (B***EN) written on lids and bottoms of bowls lest any pieces get mixed up with someone else's pieces.
I am pretty sure we had the cheese grater part, and of course the bowl. I remember using it to shred lettuce. And I always volunteered to shred cheese. I think it was in preparation for marrying a man who hates cheese. If he hates it there's no way he's going to volunteer to shred it for me!
The current version of these are too spendy for my blood. And I totally would have purchased some if that hadn't been the case. These were perfect for making just the right serving of chocolate milk!
Funnel or giant hershey's kiss maker? The handle broke off that bad boy thanks to our repeated abuse. I remember trying to make one of the giant hershey's kisses once. Let's just say an unsupervised kid and melted Hershey's bars are not the smartest combination.

Well I know there was one of these that we used for sugar but I can't remember if we had the other one and if we did, what it was used for? Probably for sugar as well. Since we kind of lived on sugar.

I know my mom has/had these. I think hers are like a navy blue but truly I don't remember what color they are. What I do remember is that one has a very oddly phallic shaped protrusion coming from the bottom front of it. Huh? Well apparently it was left sitting too close to a pot on the stove and it melted but the flour that was in it pushed outward as it melted and then someone realized what was going on and moved it and the plastic hardened in that shape. It's actually pretty stinking hilarious looking.

Or what about the white rolling pin with red handles, remember that? Granny had one of those and that thing got a workout, definitely earning it's keep at her house. The egg white separator? The gravy shaker/mixer upper (I totally have one of those) but I don't think it's Tupperware and I'm too lazy to go look.

And with names like Harvest Gold, Jadite, Dark Brown, Almond, Tan, Olive Green, Orange, Avocado Green, it makes perfect sense that these are from the 70's and 80's. I know that neon is the color of the 90's so I wonder, when the 2000's become "vintage" what the colors will be. Okay, I'm done with my pointless trip down memory lane (for now...).

A song I like

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ux2k07ToaRA

Elevator buttons and morning air
Stranger's silence makes me wanna take the stairs
If you were here, we'd laugh about their vacant stares
But right now, my time is theirs

Seems like there's always someone who disapproves
They'll judge it like they know about me and you
And the verdict comes from those with nothing else to do
The jury's out, but my choice is you

So don't you worry your pretty little mind
People throw rocks at things that shine
And life makes love look hard
The stakes are high, the water's rough, but this love is ours

You never know what people have up their sleeves
Ghosts from your past gonna jump out at me
Lurking in the shadows with their lip gloss smiles
But I don't care 'cause right now you're mine

And you'll say don't you worry your pretty little mind
People throw rocks at things that shine
( From: http://www.elyrics.net/read/t/taylor-swift-lyrics/ours-lyrics.html )
And life makes love look hard
The stakes are high, the water's rough, but this love is ours

And it's not theirs to speculate if it's wrong and
Your hands are tough but they are where mine belong in
I'll fight their doubt and give you faith with this song for you

'Cause I love the gap between your teeth
And I love the riddles that you speak
And any snide remarks from my father about your tattoos will be ignored
'Cause my heart is yours

So don't you worry your pretty little mind
People throw rocks at things that shine
And life makes love look hard

And don't you worry your pretty little mind
People throw rocks at things that shine
But they can't take what's ours, they can't take what's ours
The stakes are high, the water's rough, but this love is ours

Atta boy for home school

It's refreshing to read something good about home schooling. Granted, we're (and by we I mean me and G) homeschooling out of necessity but it's still a challenge I'm very much looking forward to (and am terrified of).

http://mises.org/daily/5866/In-Praise-of-Homeschools#.TxRk-9ij4PI.facebook

"A common criticism levied by homeschool opponents is that government schools are more adept at developing social skills. While this masquerades as a legitimate assertion, it fails to survive even the most rudimentary scrutiny. Not only have studies shown that homeschooled students grow to be aptly socialized adults but the roots of public schools are deeply entrenched in a mixture of assimilation and obedience — fertile grounds for repressing human ingenuity and producing dependent citizens."

This almost completely dispels my main reservation about home schooling and my assumption about the kids I grew up around that were home schooled.

***

http://www.janetlansbury.com/2010/11/4-reasons-to-ditch-academic-preschools/

Our child’s first school experiences can color his or her perceptions about school and learning for years to come.

And this is a statement that terrifies me. What if I do this whole homeschooling thing wrong? I'm totally in charge of setting him up for failure in his later school years.

But no pressure or anything.

"Boys have penises, girls have vaginas"

Someone please tell me what you know this is from Kindergarten Cop so I don't feel so old.

I was shocked and dismayed to read this article today: http://vitals.msnbc.msn.com/_news/2012/01/16/10168064-keep-babys-sex-secret-to-prevent-gender-based-abortions-doc-says. Basically it addresses the fact that some doctors believe that a baby's gender should not be revealed until the pregnancy is 30 weeks along, which apparently is too far along for an abortion. Why? Because some people are apparently willingly aborting their children if they are female and they already have a daughter (or two), etc. SAY WHAT? What are these people thinking? Do they not realize how many people will PAY THEM for their baby that they don't want? They could making money off these children, not killing them to try for that precious penised child (spoken by a woman with such a child).

I realize that I'm slightly biased since I am one of those freaks that has to pay to have a baby. And a freak further because I honestly, truly and completely didn't care if I had a boy child or a girl child. I just wanted a baby, and a healthy one, even, was a bonus. Throughout my struggle I met many women who still don't have a child to call their own who would gladly give up a limb to make that dream come true. And these people are doing WHAT?

For this reason alone I am going to have to agree (not that my vote has any sway power) that women should not have an anatomy scan at 18-22 weeks just to avoid the horror of "sex selection." Sure, it may be a very small part of the population that is doing this but my heck, we have to protect the children of people that selfish. I found out that G was a boy at 17.4 weeks and even waiting until then seemed like an eternity but I'd have no problem waiting until my baby was born if that was what the "rules" said and that rule was in place to protect unborn children.

We don't HAVE to know the sex of our child before it's born, that's a luxury for our immediate gratification centered society. Nothing says that if you've only had female children and can't afford new clothes that your baby boy can't wear pink. Or vice versa, of course.

And on that topic, check out this article: http://www.smithsonianmag.com/arts-culture/When-Did-Girls-Start-Wearing-Pink.html.

I bought clothes in blues and pinks, very little gender neutral. And I remember thinking that I would most definitely put a girl in blue/boy clothes but then thinking that I'd have to get rid of anything pink/girl if we were having a boy. I wonder why that is? And I have a hard time with green and yellow being neutral, to me green is more boy and yellow is more girl. So the only conclusion that I have come to is that it's the parent's preferences. I like blue and green for boys so that's what I buy G. But I would also put him in a purple or a pink dress shirt thanks to the Real Men Wear Pink breast cancer campaign. I am such a friggin' sheep.

G identifies pink things as girl things and that's not from us. My guess is that he's been surrounded with boy things, therefore isn't immediately "familiar" with girl things and rejects, basically, what he doesn't "know." I'm turning my child into such a friggin' sheep.

56 is HOT

Happy 56th Birthday to my wonderful husband.

The poor man got up with G and let me sleep in ... on his birthday. Then he woke me up because he cooked breakfast ... on his birthday. G and I made him a cake that turned out to be oddly humorous but it was his favorite kind of cake so the shape of it didn't stop him from eating it. We got him a pair of snow bibs for snow shoeing and a new pair of shooting gloves. I ran out of oomph to make him something super special from me and G. I need to find some of that oomph because he deserves something awesome.

My sister called and sang Happy Birthday to him. His daughter called to wish him a happy birthday and he talked to his oldest grandson who sent birthday wishes as well. My mom called to wish him a happy birthday and let him know that his gift from her was going to be late. His older son didn't call and his own mother didn't call. How can a mom forget one of her children's birthdays?!? I sure don't remember ever missing my dad's birthday and not calling him.

Funky mushroom looking cake eh? It is supposed to be a giant cupcake cake but really, I knew E wouldn't care if I didn't cut it to make it sit just right and look perfect, he'd only care that it be german chocolate with that icky coconut pecan frosting over it. He got what he wanted! G loves to help people blow out their birthday candles but he got to the flame before Daddy did.

I have watched him from like 45 to now and I can say, most of him has just gotten better with age. I have always like his balding hair and now it's pretty much all gone but that's because he has me put the #1 guide on the clippers and take it all off. He had a few grays back then and he has more grays now but I like that. The way he does gray is just plain sexy. He doesn't look like any other 56 year old man I've seen. I think he looks like he's in his 40's still.

Heck, I'll just say it...I'd do him. Heck, I think I'd better stop blogging and go do him right now actually. It is his birthday after all.

Ten on Tuesday

1. What did you get for Christmas?
A lovely framed picture of my sister, some SD cards, lenscap keepers, a fisheye adapter, a recipe book for game mean and slow cookers and an attachment for slicing/shredding on the Kitchenaide.

2. Have you taken down your Christmas decorations?
I took them down a few days after Christmas. I didn't have much up to begin with but the tree HAD to come down. The tinsel all over my house was driving me crazy and I wanted that space back. G got mad at me and told me, "No, mommy, stay them on!"

3. What did you do for New Years Eve?
I hung out with G and Aunty at Aunty's house and then my niece Cookie joined us so her momma could go out and party. G and I were asleep before midnight, Lisa came and got Cookie before midnight and they went home. Aunty was in her room at midnight, drinking sparkling cider out of a shoe while watching TV.

4. Do you like accents?
I like the ones I can understand. In my line of work I get hit with a lot of accents that I just can't understand and so it makes my job difficult. If it's accents in a movie or show I like them because I can follow along with facial expression and other stimulus to figure out what is being said.

5. What kind of television do you have?
E really, really wants a big old flat screen. Right now we have the largest size TV that would fit in our entertainment center, I think it's 36" and Sharp. I really care very little about having a cool TV or a big one or anything like that. One that is paid for and works is good enough for me.

6. Did you make any changes at the beginning of 2012?
Not really. I asked E to do some things to help me make some changes but they aren't resolutions so much as things I need to change. I asked for his help because I need someone to be the heavy and start taking me to task. It hasn't happened yet.

7. What’s the last book you read and do you recommend it?
I'm in the middle of a book right now but the one I finished before this one was The Art of Racing In The Rain. And I highly recommend it.

8. Do you stay current on celebrity gossip?
Kind of but not really. I will read a People and not know who half the people in it are.

9. Do you know the words to Bohemian Rhapsody? Gangstas Paradise? Fresh Prince of Bel-Air?
A good portion.
A bigger portion.
Every word.

10. What is your favorite educational television show?
Growing Up...(on Animal Planet) features a different animal each time. I also like Word World, Little Einsteins and Sesame Street for education for G. G loves I Love Toy Trains, which is train educational.

Snowshoe time

I can't believe the lack of snow in this entire state/area so far this year. It's odd considering we've been warned by a few people that this would be a hard winter. Hard as in no snow to play in maybe.

We have some, which is more than most places can say so we went out to enjoy it. We packed up our snowshoes (remember, all three of us have them now) and headed down the river. The further down we went, the heavier the rain (not snow, rain) got so we turned around and headed back up the river. We stopped at the road for Inamatoonin (or however the heck it's spelled) Creek and decided that since G had been feeling a little crummy a few days ago we'd stay on a road that we hoped would be easier for him.

He was great for the first 1/2 mile. Then all hell broke loose. He refused to budge unless Daddy gave him a piggy back. So poor E had to trudge (good thing we picked an easy route huh?) carrying 40 pounds of little boy + an unknown weight of little boy winter gear on his shoulders and then his back. It's a good thing he's still so young and spry, right (wink, wink)? We threw in the towel after a little while longer and headed back to the car. It was a short trip but it was still worth it to get out of the house and soak in some fresh, cold mountain air.

unwelcome

Have you ever gone into someone's house and immediately felt unwelcome? Have you ever gone into the house that you lived in for about 15 years of your life and felt unwelcome? Yeah, that was me the other day. Awkward and heartwrenching sums that up.

My mom has cleaned out the house. There are very, very few remnants showing that any of us lived there but especially my dad. There is a family picture still hanging on the wall and the monolith of an entertainment center that my paternal grandfather built and a few other odds and ends but otherwise it's rather cold and devoid of family.

Since she "isn't happy there" and is trying to fix the house up to sell it I guess now is as good a time as any to stop being attached to a place that holds a lot of memories.

The hard part for me, though, was when G said, "I no leave Nana house, I wanna stay Nana house." You see, G adores all things Nana and all things Nana house, especially. For as long as he's been able to say it, he has forever asked to go to Nana house. He had a big backyard to run amuck in, a bin full of toys (which was absent) and a Nana who tickled and giggled with him and doted on him.

There's a strange man now living there as well and since I don't know him I haven't dropped in to surprise Nana and I haven't been comfortable asking to stay there since last spring. But it's not like she's invited us to stay or be there either.

As soon as G walked in the door his face lit up and he was "at home." The disappointment on his face nearly killed me when I said, "We can't stay, buddy, we weren't invited here." I quickly flashed back to the first time G was ever there, in July 2008 when he was weeks old and we parked the camper in the backyard. Or Thanksgiving 2008 when he rolled around on the floor with Grandpa and pee'd on the floor when Nana was taking pictures of him naked. Then there are all the times that summer in 2009 when we were there or Christmas 2009 when G got his first Tonka truck and he drove it all over the house.

It hit me how much fun he's had there and how, even though it doesn't seem possible, he already holds memories that were made there. He doesn't remember our house in Southern Idaho but he knows most of the nooks and crannies of Nana house. His bin of toys is gone which he noticed right away since that's the first thing he'd run to when running through the front door. It makes sense that if we don't stay there she wouldn't have toys there but it's just further evidence that we don't "belong" there anymore. And it is, of course, further evidence that my dad is dead and he's never coming back.

My early Christmas present

My sister coming to spend the holidays with us was my early Christmas gift to myself. Early because I wanted her here to spend her 25th birthday which was the 19th and then of course for Christmas and the like. After a mistaken laden first morning here at the house we got each other figured out and fell into our own little routine. G LOVED having Aunty here because it meant someone was trapped and couldn't get away from him. I'm sure if she had her electric wheelchair here she would have drove herself to the guest room, screaming all the way.

G helped me sing the Happy Birthday song and he loved helping her open her presents. She didn't want a cake but wanted cupcakes. I ran out of cupcake paper cups so I improved a little. I have a pan to make a giant gingerbread man cookie so I just put the remaining cake batter in that. Sure enough, pervo birthday cake man was born. Since it was chocolate cake, jokes had to be made about him tasting like chocolate (obviously). I put white icing on him and then decided he needed something more. I broke into G's leftover Halloween candy and made pervo birthday cake man a twig and some berries, using a tootsie roll (it's all about girth, baby) and two milk duds. Yeah, I'm sick like that. I gave him a face complete with the 70's porn mustache. This could have gone one of two ways, either she could have laughed or been mortally offended by something so vulgar. Thankfully I know her and she laughed right along with me. The funny part is, I don't think she ate much of pervo birthday cake man, but E sure did. That man loves him some cake, even if it has a veiled homosexual connotation when he eats it.

The of course came Christmas, which you read about in an earlier post. Poor Aunty, much like the dogs, was used at the Nerf gun target since she can't get away. Now let me preface this by telling you that I am not cruel. I'm really not. The rule is no shooting anyone in the head or face. These Nerf guns have red laser sights on them but they suck. Therefore when I went to shoot Aunty in the boob, he hit her right between the eyes. And stuck. Because they're suction darts, you see. I almost peed my pants, that's how hard I was laughing. The look on her face was priceless. After that point she took ever Nerf bullet that was shot at her and hid it until we had run out. Damn her.

After Christmas it was time to take Aunty home. I was thinking about having her stay until after New Years but she kept clogging the toilet so my septic tank told me to take her away or it'd start sending shit back. Let me tell you, when your septic tank talks, you better listen. So north we went.

G and I spent New Years at Aunty's house, which is always a good time anyway. Don't get me wrong, G and I didn't stay up for the New Years celebration, we were passed out long before the clock started ticking down. Cousin Cookie came over while her momma went out to party. At one point little Cookie puked up half her body weight, half of which hit the carpet, the other half of which ran down my back. Don't be jealous. This was, of course, shortly after I had posted a picture of Cookie holding a big glass of wine so I officially get the "irresponsible babysitter of the year award." Cookie was maybe going to spend the night with us but her momma missed her too much and she came and rescued her before midnight. I know there's no one I would rather spend my NYE with than my kiddo so I totally understood her choice.

G and I went down Cd'A Lake Drive to see if we could spot any bald eagles, since this is the right time of year to see them. Oh boy did we see some! There were cars parked up and down the road and people taking pictures. So like the tourist that I have become in my hometown, I did it too. G wasn't nearly as impressed with them as I was. We found a gaggle of geese and G had a good time harassing them instead.

We had a lunch date at the McDonald's Playland (which is a whole other post in itself) the next day and we took Goliath for lots of walks.

We drug Aunty down to Cd'A City Beach and Ft. Sherman of course, since G can't go to Aunty House without also going to what he calls "Nana Park."

G spent some time one afternoon with Nana scoping out trains while I went to the dentist since I broke a tooth (on a dumdum sucker, totally fitting) on the drive to Aunty's house. Then I joined him and Nana and we tried to find another train to watch but we could only hear them, not find them. We did, however, chase down a sunset.

We stayed a few days at Aunty house before we let her tell us to get the hell out and then we went home to our super quiet house. G is still going into the guest room and asking, "Aunty, where you go?"

Oh and G came home with a hella cold. The first one he's had in a long, long time.

Happy New Years (and quasi homicidal thoughts)

G, S and I wheeled on down to the McDonald's in the bitter cold for a lunch date and so G could expend some energy at the indoor Playland. He was basically the only kid there at first and then more started to show up.

There was a little group of three kids (in the age range of 7-10) that showed up (and some others too) and I saw that they kept running away from G, who was gleefully just trying to keep up with them and tell them his name. Then they ran by me and were talking about, "That weird kid." Ooh baby, my kid is NOT weird, he's friendly. Over the last 3.5 years I have sadly come to realize that a friendly and outgoing kid is NOT the norm.

I decided that my sweet, dear boy needed a playmate and even though I'm like 200 pounds over the implied weight limit into the Playland structure I went. Yeah, I got funny looks from the other adults there but I'll take 100,000,001 funny looks from lazy ass parents if it makes my kid happy that he has someone to play with. Keep in mind, there were still other kids there as well...

I got kind of chicken about this open weave part just because I was afraid that I would bust right through that bad boy and guess what was directly below that? My sister. Like that would be a comfortable landing spot? Well I took too long in making my decision on what to do and the next thing I know the kids that had been calling G "weird" were behind me. Next thing I know one kid is saying, "Go!" and one kid is saying, "There's a big butt in my way!" Oh hell no she didn't! First you call my kid weird and then you say my butt is big? Dude, it was on. I spun around on them and they were trapped.

Me: "Do you think it's nice or polite to talk about someone's butt much less say it's big?"

Girl: "I didn't say butt."

Me: "Oh so now you're saying I'm a liar too?"

Girl: "Uh..."

Boy: "Yes you did."

Me: "And while we're here, do you see that little boy down there? The one you guys were running away from and calling weird? That's my son. He's not weird, he's a little kid who wanted to play with you guys. I'm glad he isn't playing with you guys because if you use language like that and insult others I don't want him around you guys."

Kids: "Sorry..."

They made sure to stay far away from me and G at that point. And guess what the adults who were with those kids were doing? Texting and/or talking on their phones not paying a lick of attention to the kids. Am I that odd that I like to know where my kid is and what he's doing at all times when in public?

Then there was the girl that filled the entire Playland with her hacking smokers cough. Really, parents? Great idea, bring your sick child to a place where other children are playing. Genius. We left shortly thereafter. And guess what? The next day, G tells me he doesn't feel good and sure enough, comes down with a cold.

Happy friggin' New Year, I took my boy back to our bubble in BFE.