Christmas Eve
What a nice calm holiday this has been. The only time I have felt rushed or the need to rush was Christmas Eve. We had spent an enjoyable late morning, midday, and early afternoon with RC's parents. Little man loved tearing open his presents, and the little girl loved crinkling the paper in her beautiful, chubby hands. They recieved quite a bounty of fun from their Nana and Tata. About an hour before we had to go, X had to go potty ( he is doing so well at informing us of impending feces). He perched on the potty like a little bird on a nest, and then leaned back a little. I didn't think anything of that at the time. Then to my horror, the pee pee, it goes not down but out. I grabbed him by the shoulder and tried to tip him forward so no more would leak down the front of the potty and into his nice clean pants, but to no avail, he was done. So I stripped off his soaked pants, put his diaper back on, and calmly informed RC that we had to go get him some pants. Luckily we had just enough time before we needed to be heading home to go quickly purchase unsoiled pants at Wal-Mart. If you have ever braved the terrifying fronts at Wal-Mart on Christmas Eve you would know what I was talking about. This has been such an easy going Christmas season this year, mainly because my side of the family had our gift exchange on Thanksgiving. It has been hassel free. Not to mention the fact that we have been completely broke for the last month or so, so we couldn't get into the rush if we wanted to. Upon making my purchase selections and heading to the check out, I realised why the rest of the store seemed just fine. It was because the entire local population appeared to be out, enforce, just to stand at the cash registers. I sidled up into the twenty items or less lane, and waited. The atmosphere in that place was one of ferociously hectic choas. I felt as if I needed to clear off all of the shelves in the near vicinity to make sure I got everything I needed without forgetting anything. I am so happy, this year wasn't like that in our home. I purchased my three dollar pair of sweats for the boy and high tailed my hinney out of the den of iniquity. The rest of the evening was uneventful, oh yeah, other than the fact that I got my days mixed up and discovered upon pulling into the church building's parking lot that apparently the Christmas Eve service is not at six p.m. Oops.
Jesus Burrito
| 1. a theoretical burrito that Jesus Christ makes so hot that even he himself cannot eat it (usually said to be microwaved).
2. any burrito that is so hot that it can't be eaten by a mortal human (although Jesus probably could).
3. A burrito that is so hot it makes you see Jesus.
4. Archaic: A burrito that is so hot that it burns the sin right outta ya. "Could Jesus microwave a burrito so hot that he himself could not eat it?" -Homer Simpson
Ouch! That's a Jesus burrito! Es muy caliente! |
http://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=Jesus+Burrito
Elder
In two weeks and a day, the eldest of my young 'uns will be three. Hard for me to fathom even more, the fact that I have managed to keep him alive this long.
Today, I was thinking about how much
more the he is communicating and developing, so I thought I'd make a list.
If there are any that I have missed post them in the comments. I can't seem to remember everything at this moment. I may have to edit this post later for future posterity.
Things he says with words:
- Blanket (sounds more like buhn-da/buhn-dat)
- mama/mommy
- dada/daddy
- baby
- papa
- buddy
- one (wa), two (du), three (tee, sometimes tree), four (fo/vo), five (fi/vi)
- choo choo
- ball (baw)
- diaper (dah-puh)
- tea
- water (wawa)
- juice (dooce)
- milk (muh)
- apple/apple sauce
- spoon (poo)
- fork (fuh)
- bowl (buh)
- bird (buh)
- bug (buh)
- big (bih sometimes buh)
- duh (as in the term that came from in the early/mid-nineties)
- no
- yeah
- help (hep/ep or hup/up)
- up (up or puh)
- down (dah or dahn)
- not
- mine (muh)
- more (muh)
- tattoo (dadoo)
- moo (oooo), meow (yeow), arf arf, baa (aahh)
Things he says with signs:
- music
- juice
- chicken
- more
- milk
- banana
- peaches
- please
- thank you
- help
- hot
- cold
- big
- little
- bright
Things he does:
- pulls down his pants and removes his underwear/diaper to go potty or get in the tub
- pulls his pants up
- lines things up (cars, remote controls, plates, cds, tampons) and then points at them triumphantly proclaiming he has made a choo choo
- puts on a bib when eating
- eats, on his own (sort of)
- climbs into, but not out of, his crib
- snuggles up in your lap to play baby
- pulls his shirt up to "breast feed" his Grinch stuffed animal at his belly button
- plays with water faucets, alot
- puts on chap-stik and lotion
- puts pants on his sisters head
- turns on the computer monitor and moves the mouse so the log-in screen comes up
- pulls a chair to the counter to see what you are doing on the counter or in the sink
- attempts to help with whatever you are doing
- gets out a skillet when you tell him that you're making scrambled eggs (in the case of just a couple of days ago, he also got out the eggs and dropped them on the floor, luckily there were only four left)
- in the morning he says "mama, down" to request assistance out of bed
- he helps put away the clean dishes and knows where most of them (on his level) belong (He is especially good with the silver ware.)
- he requests tattoos and points to where he wants them and even gets the dish cloth so I can apply them more speedily even though I have not even made the attempt to head upstairs to get the tattoos, which are in the office
- he imitates daddy taking his asthma medications
- he requests music as soon as we get in the car, and demands it if it is not eminently forthcoming
Things the little girl does (just so she doesn't feel left out):
- gurgles and coos and gagas and goo goos and dadas
- says something that sounds like hamburger when she is crying
- grabs stuff that is within her reach while sitting up and laying down (including but not limited to the keyboard, my dinner plate, sharp objects like Star Wars toys that are laying around, choking hazards like the tiny plastic dinosaurs that her brother likes to make into soup)
- bangs whatever object she is holding on whatever surface is closest to her (be it the floor, the table, the tray on that unsafe walker that we always put her in while she is precariously perched at the top of the stairs)
- switches objects back and forth between her hands
- swings objects around in mid-air
- sits up very well, for long periods of time, without assistance, well, I mean I sit her up, but she stays there on her own
- push ups, holding her head high
Things she does not do:
The closet monster
Why does it seem like anger is the main theme of my days here lately? I escalate to to rage so quickly, and then it takes for ever for me to calm down. Today the young man in the closet woke up at six thirty. Nothing makes me angrier than being disrupted in my sleep or being bothered when I am sleepy. So since my normal rising time is between eight forty-five and ten thirty, it is understandable that I instantly became a minion of massacre. Right? Well, I am still trying to ignore him back to sleep, and it still isn't working. Just a minute ago I penned an email to RC, reading thus "I am so angry I could split wood with my teeth." The main problem here is that I, myself, am no longer asleep. I got so angry so fast when he woke me up that my pulse started that rageful tattoo in my ears and now I am wide awake. I am glad I got all of that out. Processing it in an organised manner helps so much. Now, I see how irresponsible and unnecessary of an attitude that is. Now I am able to calmly walk into his closet and not tear his head off.
The path less traveled...
I feel like the repeat button in our life is stuck in the on position. We have been in this place of seemingly destitute status so many times since getting married. I long for things to change. I long for the path less traveled and yet I am stuck in the rut of all of our downfalls.
