Talking Peanut

Peanut has had me cracking up ever since he started yapping.

I mean, He is a talker.

He gets it honest.

He is full of personality and can carry on a conversation at the ripe old age of two.

Here are two of my recent faves:

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We were on the couch. I was on my laptop and Peanut was playing games on my iPhone.

I yelled at Opie as he ran outside, "Make sure you shut the door!" 

I didn't hear a door slam. As I leaned to see if it was closed, I said out loud to myself, "Well, did he shut it or not?"

Peanut didn't even look up from his game. "I hope so," he said. 

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Opie had been having trouble with his first punk kid bully. 

After dropping him off at school one morning, I started talking to myself, rehearsing things he could say if the kid hit him again. I guess I got a little into it.

I said out loud (very passionately), "What do you think you're doing?"

From the backseat, a little voice piped up.

"I don' know."

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That Peanut...

He has my heart.

We Put The E.R. in AnnivERsary

My husband and I celebrated our thirteenth anniversary this past weekend.

Budget was tight, so we planned a romantic weekend at our house, with the kids nearby at a close friend's.

All went well dropping the kids off.

We raced home like two teenagers whose parents were out of town, anticipating time alone. We picked out a movie on Amazon and cuddled on the couch. Around nine o'clock, we received a text saying that Opie and Peanut both had gone to bed without a hitch.

*Deep breath* 

Finally. 

After three years of no time alone, we had done it.

We stayed up until midnight, just because we could. Before I laid down, I put my phone on vibrate. I didn't want to risk being interrupted by a text or some silly Facebook notification. Besides, what were the odds that something would happen on this one night? And my friend had my husband's number in case of an emergency.

We fell asleep with dreams of sleeping past five-thirty a.m. for the first time in two years....

1:00 AM

*RING! RING!*

You have got to be kidding me. 

I could hear him wheezing and coughing through my husband's phone. 

I knew those sounds: Croup. 

We raced to grab Peanut and headed straight to the ER. 

I assure you, these photos are not edited, cold sore and all... Yikes. Happy Anniversary.

We got back home around three-thirty a.m. 

Now, one might think I would be bitter about the weekend being shot. 

By the grace of God, I was not. 

Though my anniversary was a bust, I was still able to realize how blessed I was.

Peanut's emergency was not life-threatening.

And at the end of the day, I was thankful that when the spit hit the fan, I had a partner to help me with it all.

My two kids are blessed.

I am blessed.

My husband is a rock.

And at the end of our crazy hospital anniversary date, I had Him to go home with.

And my heart was reminded of why I married this Man in the first place.

I love you, Honey. 

Happy Anniv-ER-sary! 

Poop Hunt

I like buried treasure.

But, not this kind.

You see, this morning Peanut found a tiny round yellow bead in the yard.

He was fascinated by it. He held it as I changed his diaper. He pretended to eat it, grinning every time I told him not to put it in his mouth. I should have known that stinker was up to no good.

I was putting the laundry hamper at the top of the stairs and preparing to get ready for our play-date when I heard him in the pantry behind me...

"Wheh' it go?"

I turned around, responding to his precious voice. (I smile every time that kid utters a word.)

"Where's what, buddy?"

He pointed to his nose.

"Wheh' it go?"

"Did you drop something in the pantry?" I asked him.

 I still wasn't computing. 

"Wheh' it go?" he said one more time as he pointed to his nose.

At that moment the "Oh, crap" side of my brain received it's first drip of my morning coffee.

"THE BEAD!!!"

I fell to my knees, lifted his chin and peered up his nose.

Way up in the tippy-top of his left nostril lay the bead. Stuck. Like, really stuck.

I tried to feel it through the outside of his nose, hoping to push it downward and loosen it.

You'd have thought I was amputating Peanut's arm, the way he was screaming. He probably knew by the panic on my face and in my voice, that the situation was not a good one.

I tried to reason with him.

He's two. That didn't work well.

So, I did the only thing I knew to do.

I blew my nose at him. "Do that, buddy!!! Blow your nose like this!"

He looked at me, stopped crying and much to my horror, he did the exact opposite of my glorious demonstration. He sucked IN with all of his might. "No! No! Noooooooooo!!!"

I took another look.

Gone.

As in, the bead is no longer visible or attainable. As in, I could already picture the X-ray and the surgery planned to retrieve this dad-blasted yellow bead.

"So much for the play-date. I'll be headed to the ER," I thought.

But, my pediatrician told me it was possible that it went down the back of his throat and he swallowed it. Also, since it's plastic, it probably wouldn't show up on the X-ray, anyway.

So, all I can do for the next couple of days is wait.

And search for buried treasure.

Every time he poops. :)

But, knowing what could be in the cards if I don't find that bead, I'll be shaken' my own booty if I find that booty.

Oh Snap! Shots: Moments

In real life, 

Oh Snap!

Moments.

Life is full of them.

And kids make them extra special.

Moments that we freeze in our mind.

Moments of "Wow. I can't believe you're mine."

Proud moments with our little "helpers."

Loud Moments.

"Dat's too yowd" moments.

"Dat sparkler's weally scawy" moments.

Finding-new-"toys"-under-the-bathroom-sink moments.

Getting-into-everything-but-the-kitchen-sink moments.

Getting-into-everything-including-the-kitchen-sink moments.

"What in the world happened here?" moments.

"So that's where last week's snack went" moments.

Moments where they blow our minds with how they think, like protecting Mater and McQueen's eyes from the glaring sun.

"MOM, Come look at me!" moments.

"This is my life and I wouldn't have it any other way" moments.

I love these pictures! They make me smile! Next week's theme is: "What's in your wallet?" Dump out your purse or diaper bag, snap a picture and write a description of what you find. (Just do it. You know you need to clean it out anyway!) Go ahead and send it to me today, so you won't forget! I'm gonna do it, too! 

I'm Officially Old

My oldest, at age five, shooting his BB gun. He still has a love for shooting...

When I was younger, nothing drove me crazier than when Saturday morning cartoons were interrupted by my parents turning the channel to watch the news.

I hated the news. It was a bunch of political gibberish and stories that didn't interest me in the least. And besides, I was more interested in which one of the Smurfs was eventually going to kiss Smurfette! In my mind, only old people watched the news. Who else could enjoy watching someone in a suit reading from a teleprompter?

Fast forward twenty-five years.

Wanna know what my favorite thing to do in the morning is? Sip my coffee (or in my case, french vanilla creamer with a touch of coffee) with my hubby next to me and watch the News. In fact, our favorite is Robin Meade. It's fast paced and covers a wide range of topics quickly. (It doesn't hurt that my husband thinks she's drop dead gorgeous.)

Well, my oldest son recently discovered 'Top Shot' on Netflix. It's a series from television about professional marksmen (and markswomen?).  He loves it and gets so frustrated when, while watching it, we come in and do the 'presto-channel change-o' to watch our news.

Now, I've told you before about his habit of writing everything down on paper. So, this morning, after I switcheroo-d from Top Shot to Robin Meade, this is what I found on the dining room table:

Yep. I guess I am the official old person now.

Don't Blink

I literally blinked,

And This Happened.

I literally blinked,

And This Happened.

Don't Blink.

My Little List Maker

We go through some paper at our house.

A lot of paper. 

My oldest son loves the stuff.

He draws, makes paper airplanes galore, and does origami. When he was four years old, he made me a "coat" out of white computer paper and tape. He made piles of "things." I kept some, but if I would have kept everything, we would literally be swimming in paper. In fact, I'm surprised the Feds never showed up to investigate our vast consumption of paper goods and Scotch tape.

And once he learned to write, whew-wee!, did our paper consumption increase. He began writing everything down. And I mean everything...including (but not limited to) recipes, ideas, future plans, calendars, to-do lists, check lists, gift lists, and all kinds of random lists. 

Two weeks after I gave birth to Peanut in 2010, we all packed up the car and moved into a hotel room for four months to be with my husband while he finished job training. It was the middle of the school year, so I had to homeschool my oldest...while caring for a newborn...inside a hotel. (Thankfully, it was a suite, but still...can you say "insane?")

Opie was bored and missed getting his chore allowance. So, he broke out some paper and began writing one of his infamous lists on things he could do to generate some money from inside our cave hotel room.

He figured he could market my teaching services or even do laundry for someone. He really enjoyed dancing, so he thought that might generate some revenue. (In fact, I woke up a couple of times to find him dancing in the hotel hallway, door ajar, while blasting Disney Channel's "Big Time Rush" from our television.) Drawing pictures, making decorations and even doing a few magic tricks were other ways he decided could increase his cash flow.

While I knew the chances of someone knocking on our door for these things were slim to none, I didn't want to discourage Opie's little entrepreneurial spirit. Had I read the final list, though, I might have at least encouraged him to change the wording on one of his services...

Here's what I read...days after it had been taped to the outside of our hotel door.

FOR SALE

Teaching $7

Decorations $6

Laundry $6

Drawing $7

Dancing $7

Tricks $10 

After reading it, my husband and I were actually surprised that we hadn't gotten any late night knocks on the door.

HOTEL LIFE

My Little Trick-ster jumping on our hotel bed.

My two boys getting to know each other.

Terribly sleep deprived in our den/kitchen/office/bedroom.

Homeschool Hotel. I still can't believe I did that. 

Opie, practicing his handwriting...

As hard as those times were, I cherish every second of juggling it all in that itty-bitty space. We made some amazing (and funny) memories. 
Come to think of it, I believe Opie made a list of them...

Apparently, I Starve My Kids

Be careful what you say you'll never do.


Cuz you'll do it.


Especially when it comes to your kids.


For instance, I said my kids would never eat McDonalds. (cue my nose sticking up in the air) I was going to feed my kids all organic and healthy food and keep them away from the dreadful and evil french fries and nuggets. The Golden Arches were, in my mind, a gateway food that led straight to H-E-double-hockey-sticks.


That lasted, um, how you saaaaay, five minutes?


Throw in school, diapers, homework, laundry, house cleaning, work and ball practice, and some days it's either Mickey-D's or starvation. And I knew which was worse. So, really, if you think about it,  I really deserve a pat on the back, for not letting my kids go hungry.


Well, until this past Sunday night.


We went to a cook-out and it was fabulous. Just a small group of us hanging out in the back yard of a friend's house. The kids were all running around having a grandiose time. So, I helped myself to a plate of food and jibber-jabbered with actual adults (which for a stay-at-home Mom is like crack).


Time went by and, my oh my, how much fun I was having! Shooting off jokes left and right. Crackin' up at the kids antics. Chewing on yummy homemade chocolate truffles.


Just before putting the food up, my friend fixed her son a plate. As he was eating, I noticed my youngest trying to steal his food. I opened my mouth to get onto him until it hit me...I never fed the little Peanut!


I had gotten so caught up in working my jaws, that I forgot to fix him a plate. But, before you rule me an irresponsible, neglectful Mother, just let me say that this has never happened before.


Weeell, except for that time I hired a babysitter and forgot to tell her the baby needed a bottle before bed and he pretty much hysterically cried himself to sleep. (cue Mommy guilt)


And I really shouldn't take into consideration that other time I didn't feed him lunch since he slept through it...


Jeepers Creepers, folks. This doesn't look so good.

Peanut and his buddy finally eating at the cook out

What Did I Just Say?

Sometimes, with my youngest, I catch myself saying things and think, "I never thought I'd be putting those words together in the same sentence...."


Case in Point:


"Stop touching your wiener with the cracker!"




"Those are tampons, not popsicles."




Seriously? 


What are some strange things you've caught yourself saying...


out loud?

Dela-Where? : Part Two

For the first couple of days in Wilmington, I tried to stay near or at the hotel for the sake of saving extra money. We went to a couple of nice playgrounds and swam in the hotel pool. But knowing there was more to do outside that Doubletree plagued my brain. I decided those hotel walls could contain me no longer. So, we ditched the ice-cold indoor swimming pool and swam for greater things. (And knowing I had to blog about it later did motivate me, too. There's only so much one can say about a hotel swimming pool and playgrounds.)

So, I gathered my two little munchkins, punched "Attractions" on the Garmin and whatever tickled my fancy, I Googled on my iPhone. I'd discuss the plan with my oldest and if we were in agreement, off we went!

Here's one of our favorite spots we discovered after two days of hotel blah-blah.

Pennsylvania Colonial Plantation

The day we discovered this little gem, it just so happened to be July 14th, which was their annual fundraiser: "Pirate/Splash Day." (How perfect was that?) And once my oldest knew that water and pirates were involved, he was in. Did I mention it was raining? And icky? But, alas, I pressed onward through the mud and the animal poop in my maxi-dress and sandals. 

And I'm glad I did. It might have been a yucky day, but this fabulous place was worth visiting. The inspiring workers on this authentic historical plantation made our day quite memorable. And the rain? It eventually dried up...but Jayden still got soaked from his pirate adventures. Argh!

"Pirates of the Plantation"

Rubber Ducky Races!

Guess who's lucky duck won the race? :)
Yet, he was more excited about that grape dum-dum in his hand.

Opie, making paper like they did in the 1700's.

Yeah, that'd be Opie with the intense look of battle on his face.

Water Wars!

Defending their ship against water cannonballs

Peanut was curious about the rotating sprinklers.
His final verdict was... he did not like them.

He did like the chicken coop, though.

And, I leave you with this...

Quiz: Is that a Hen or a Rooster? 

Answer: I couldn't tell ya. 

But, I do know that it is a chicken.

PS. Hold onto your hats. I have one more "Dela-where" installment planned. Yeah, I know. You will hardly be able to sleep armed with such knowledge. But just try to contain your excitement, and rest up. You're gonna need all of your enthusiasm for the fantas-ticulous give-away beginning this weekend!