Summer Wish List

new adventures.
the beach.
the park.
swimming.
getting crafty with my mini muffin.
reading, reading, and more reading.
watching old TV shows on DVD.
watching movies.
wearing yoga pants, tank tops, and flip-flops.
staying up past 10:30 and sleeping past 5:30.
taking pictures.
no grading, planning, or adolescents.
Ben’s birthday.
our anniversary.
first ever nuclear family vacation.

fun. rest.

Toddler/English Dictionary

As Ben becomes more and more talkative, and since I'm pretty much the only one who understands him, especially since a decent percentage of it is apparent profanity, I thought I'd put together a little Guide to Understanding Ben Speak. I thought this might help calm the fears of all the people at Target giving me judgmental stares while my one-year-old son swears like a sailor in the toy aisle. I have tried to spell his pronunciations as best I can. While he can say dozens upon dozens of words and make full sentences, I'm just doing some highlights (mostly the confusing ones).

f$#%. truck or duck
frick. fork
d#$@. dirt
pita. please
taco (said very quickly, almost like a guttural clearing of the throat). thank you
car (with a thick German accent on the c). car or guitar
busssss. Buzz from Toy Story. also bus.
Mimi. Mater from Cars
McKee. Lightening McQueen from Cars
Memo. Nemo
Emmo. Elmo
shubbo. shovel
boppy. potty
wacko. leggo

So if you see me and my son is shouting out swear words, he's probably admiring a fine automobile, a bird with webbed feet, or some sand. Also, if it sounds like he's gearing up to spit on you, he's actually expressing his gratitude.

Monday Morning

It’s cold and drizzly outside. Not raining—just that kind of air that leaves a million tiny whispers of wetness on your exposed skin. It’s not cold enough for a snow jacket, but it’s crisp and cool. It’s mid-May, so within a couple of weeks the marine layer will lift and the sticky heat of Orange County summer will settle in. I didn’t get much sleep this weekend, so I’m feeling a little drowsy. I’m sitting in my classroom with a warm cup of coffee. It was 60 degrees when I came in, and I’m wearing a short-sleeved shirt and a skirt, so I turned the heater on for a few minutes to warm up a little. So I’m cozy, a little sleepy, and not at all ready for the school day to begin. In just a few minutes 32 hormonal adolescents will flood noisily in, so for the moment I’m going to play pretend. I’m going to pretend that I’m home with this warm cup of coffee, nestled in with a blanket, my comfy clothes, my loving husband, and my sweet little boy. We’re cozied up on the couch watching Cars, and we’ve nothing to do, nowhere to be, just enjoying each other’s company. Just enjoying the gray morning, the last bit of warm snuggles before we don tank tops and shorts and sweat the months away.

And there’s the bell. Back to reality. But sweet gray morning—we will meet again.

Blooper Reel

Some highlights from yesterday...

I went to Ralph's on my way home to pick up a couple of random things we needed for dinner. It was already a pain because a Sonic just opened up next door and they've got half the city shut down, literally blocking the street that enters our neighborhood. Ralph's is across the street. Also, the employees park on our street, which was already a parking nightmare. I feel like in order to compensate me for the damages I should get free slushies and/or banana milkshakes whenever I want.

Anyway, I was telling a story. Sorry. I went to Ralph's, and I only had two items. So naturally I went to the express aisle. There was one guy in front of me, and he only had like five things. I was thinking I'd be out of there in no time. Nope. His total was $25.27; he wrote a check for $25 and then paid 27 cents in change. Nickles and pennies.

Eventually I purchased my potatoes and milk and walked out to the parking lot to my car, where a teenage-looking young woman in an orange vest that indicated she was a shopping card guard was leaning against my driver's side door and texting.

When Matt and I were on our way home last night after running errands we stopped at a red light. We heard some pretty loud music coming our way (our windows were closed). So I looked over, and what did I see? A beefy, scruffy guy that looked like a Hell's Angel driving a Suburban with Barbara Streisand blasting away.

People are funny.

The Towheaded Monster

I don't know if it's the terrible almost-twos rearing their ugly head, or the fact that my son is OVER going to a babysitter's every day. But man alive has he been kicking my butt lately. All year he's been pretty good at drop-off in the morning. He has his days, sure, but most of the time he climbs into his booster seat and starts chowing down on breakfast. But for the last week or two Molly has had to pry him off me. The same thing happened this morning when I left him with my mom. At Disneyland on Sunday all he wanted was for me to walk around holding him all morning. All. Morning. All 27.2 pounds of him. Then after his nap we went outside to play with his buddy Adalee. Adalee gave him a hug, accidentally knocking him over. So Ben picked himself up off the ground and full-on shoves her. ?!?!?!?! Yesterday Adalee came over for five minutes while Brandi switched the laundry. Ben flipped out when Adalee tried to touch his toys. Any of them. I mean flipped the frick out. Screaming, throwing, grabbing, pushing. I've never seen him like this. Time outs be damned. The freak-out continued long after she'd left. Today when she came over he actually did great. They played together, shared--straight out of Leave it to Beaver for toddlers. Then came bed time. Since the demon colic was exercised at about three months, Ben has been the bed time champ. 98.6% of the time he goes down happily and beautifully. Until tonight. We spent 90 minutes trying to get him to bed. 90 freaking minutes of sobbing, screaming, shouting, throwing...it was like colic all over again, only with an extra 20 pounds and words thrown in here and there.

I desperately wish I had at least one more sick day left so I could maybe stay home tomorrow and spend some time with my demon-possessed little boy. If only I could somehow communicate to him that in just a few short weeks I'm all his...but alas, alack, I used all my sick days, personal days, and what have you nursing him back to health all year long.

Boo. I need this to end like yesterday.

Starbucks Boyfriend

Last night at church I ran into a guy I used to know. I was waiting at The Caf for my mocha (my church just opened an espresso thing that serves Keane coffee, which is just about the most wonderful thing ever, except for the 20 minutes I spent waiting for it to be made and the five hours I spent staring at the ceiling in bed because in all my excitement at the prospect of Keane coffee at church I forgot to get decaf) and I saw his familiar face. I couldn't really remember where or how I knew him or what his name was (which is odd for me--I always remember names), but I did remember having a crush on him. I avoided making eye contact with him because I have a thing where I always remember people (stupid photographic memory) and they don't remember me, which is embarrassing. Since it has been several years since I've seen this guy, and I really oddly can't remember how I even know him, I'm positive he doesn't remember me. and even if he did remember me, I didn't want to subject him to being on the receiving end of this conversation:

Me: Hi, Horatio! How are you?!?! It's been so long since I've seen you! How is your mom? Does she still collect horse figurines?

Horatio: Oh hey, You! I'm sorry, what was your name again?

But of course, as previously mentioned, my mocha was taking a really really long time to make, and it's a small place, and it was practically empty. I managed to stay invisible for a while, but after he ordered he approached. Before that happened, though, I racked my brain for how I knew him and what his name was. Something with a J...we had a mutual friend...hmmm....no clue. Fortunately, in what has the be the dumbest conversation opener I have ever heard, he helps me remember.

Him: Hey, You!

(yep, there it is...well, at least he doesn't remember my name either.)

Me: Hi!

(Christian side hug)

Him: So you must know all about this stuff (gesturing to the coffee bar).

Me: Excuse me?

Him: You know, from working at Starbucks.

(It hits me...he was a Starbucks boyfriend. He was a regular when I worked there, and somehow we realized we went to the same church and ended up becoming friends. Still no name, though. And what?!?!? You see someone you haven't seen for several years and the first thing that pops into your head is her familiarity with an espresso machine? Starbucks Boyfriend, now I remember why I forgot about you...apparently all I was to you was a Barista, even after we'd become friends completely apart from Starbucks.)
Me: Um, sure, I guess. But I haven't worked there in, I don't know, five, six, seven years. So...yeah.

Him: Really? Has it been that long? Wow. Time flies.

Me: Um, yeah. Well, I've been teaching full time for, I don't know, I think like five years. And I did other things between Starbucks and that. So....yeah, maybe six or seven years.


Then his wife approached. Then more came back to me. I remember him getting a girlfriend and I was all sad. Well, suffice it to say I was no longer sad at this point. She could have him.

We talked for a few minutes about Starbucks and our kids. At any rate, they had ordered plain coffee, and since Matt's and my mochas were still not ready, I stayed behind as they went on to church. But the wheels kept turning. Something was missing in my memory of him. And what the frick was his name?!?!?

I got back into church and tried to figure out how long ago it was that I left Starbucks. I did the math on how long I've been teaching and how long I was a temp before that. I also tried to remember his name. Jeff? Jason? John? Matt ended up winning all the sword drills, and he noted that I seemed distracted. Eventually I moved on and payed attention. But seriously, what the heck was his name?!?!?

Fortunately the mocha that I was eventually able to drink was caffeinated (in my excitement about trying the Keane coffee I forgot to ask for decaf), and I'm pretty sure they didn't put soy milk in it. So I was awake until about 3am. That gave me plenty of time to try to remember this turd who reintroduced himself with "So you must be really familiar with all this coffee stuff." He was a Starbucks Boyfriend, that I knew. When I worked there all the girls had them--crushes on random regulars. There was Latte Nigel, Tall Vanilla Nonfat Latte Chris (who was a total butt, so don't ask me why I liked him), and Grande Mild Barclay. But I started to remember this guy. He would come in with his Bible and journal, and all the girls wanted me to actually meet him and talk to him because he was "perfect for me" (obviously since I was the only Christian that worked there and this guy carried a Bible he was my soulmate). He was pretty sweet, so eventually he officially became a Starbucks Boyfriend. I'm still fuzzy on the details, but somehow we apparently did talk and discovered we went to the same church. Or maybe I saw him at church once...who knows how it happened. But somehow we bonded and became kind of friends. Obviously the friendship wasn't that deep if we couldn't remember each other's names and all he remembered about me was Starbucks. Then finally I remembered. Scott. Vente Americano Scott. And the girlfriend. They lived together. Something about they had the same phone number on their applications to work in children's ministry (I think). I had been devastated. Not that he had a girlfriend--I already knew that. But he'd seemed like the perfect Christian guy. And he was living with his girlfriend? So sad. Like there weren't a million other things keeping us apart.

Anyway, I solved the mystery finally. I also thought of a lot of other things in those many many hours I lied awake. Like the fact I really should have shaved, how Disneyland on Sunday was going to suck because I would be so tired, like the book I just finished reading, what book I would read next, about my teaching schedule for next year, what I want to do this summer, how many days are left until summer, how someone needs to seriously stop me with whatever force is necessary the next time I want to get coffee at 6pm, about the student who when he found out on Friday that I used to work at Starbucks seriously asked me "they had Starbucks back then?"

I finally drifted off sometime after 2. The I woke up at 5:40. Why not? I was obviously completely refreshed with plenty of sleep.

Speaking of which, someone is now shouting "Mommy!" from his crib. Sigh. If I'm going to Disneyland today I'm going to need some coffee.

True Love

A few months ago we got Ben a little train set from Ikea. It isn't impressive or extensive, but Ben had started to show an interest in trains and this was a cheap way to nurture that. He struggled with it at first. He really wanted to do it, but the train parts connect with magnets, which he didn't understand (stupid poles), so rather than giving him something fun we were giving him a source of frustration. He'd run the train around the track shouting "choo choo!" then a part would come off, he'd hand it to me and say "uh oh"...this went on for quite some time. After a few days of frustrated tantrums, we put the train in the closet. He whined for a couple of days, then he seemed to forget it had existed.

I'm not exactly sure how it happened, but somehow he ended up completely obsessed with trains. It's not like he watched Thomas, it's not like he'd ever actually been on a train. But it happened anyway. So we brought the train set back out. Not sure how he'd figured magnets out in the interim, but he seemed to understand how to do it this time. Around the same time we also got our Netflix Wii disc, which allows us to stream Netflix through our Wii and watch movies. So I snagged an episode of Thomas to see if he'd like it. Elmo, we never knew thee. It was love at first sight. Now when he wakes up in the morning, he pops up and says "choo choo!" He struggles as I change him, trying to break free so he can watch the choo choo. Once we get into the living room he climbs on the couch, points at the TV, and says "choo choo!" Of course, during the week he doesn't get to watch it in the morning because we have to go to school. Which means that when I arrive at Molly's to pick him up after work he smiles and says "Mommy!" gives me a hug, then says "choo choo." So we drive home, saying "choo choo!" the whole way. When we get home he climbs on the couch, points at the TV, and says "choo choo!" Once the episode ends, he cries and pitches a fit. Then I take him outside with his truck and he forgets all about the choo choo. Until we go back inside. This has been our routine all week. At least by Thursday he stopped throwing the tantrums when the show ended. Instead of screaming, he simply slipped off the couch, got his truck, then stood by the door. Growth, people.


So yesterday we took some of our tax refund money to Ikea for some home upgrades. We swapped out a hand-me-down bookcase that we kept Ben's toys in for a classy Ikea one that matched the rest of his furniture. And we got one of those rugs that has streets on it so he can play with his cars (his other new obsession) and a toddler table so he can color and play with play dough (more favorite activities). We also got an extra couple of sets of tracks so his train set wouldn't be quite as sad and pathetic. The result? The boy has hardly stopped playing with his "choo choo" since we got home yesterday. We have had three meals since bringing the tracks home, and he has refused to eat all of them. When I say "lunch," he throws himself down on the tracks, wraps his arms around them, and cries "no!" When I pick him up and bring him to the kitchen anyway, he cries and squirms and fights to get free, throwing his food all over the kitchen. Nap time? Same story. Bed time? Same story. Time to go run a couple of errands? Yes. Same story.


We didn't get to have our date night on Friday or go to church last night because Ben is sick. I'm thinking, though, that we could probably just go on our date, leave him here alone, and not worry about it. He doesn't even really notice whether anyone's here or not. So if we went on our date, when we got back he'd probably either still be playing (and not even look up when we came in) or be passed out in the middle of the tracks, probably with his face on the bridge.

This boy loves him some choo choo.

Sweet and Saucy

So all tomato saucy sweaters and tub floaters aside, there are more than enough of the *other* kinds of motherhood moments.


Like when Ben (actually) shares his sand toys with a little girl at the park.

Like when he reads his “car book,” pointing to the pictures and naming the characters.

Like when he counts “one, two, three, nine.”

Like when he dances, claps, squeals with delight, and points out his "dada" when Matt plays on stage at church.

Like when he runs across the house to give me a hug and a kiss before going back to playing with his cars.

Like when he is watching Thomas and he puts my head in his lap and strokes my hair.

Like when I’m changing his diaper and he says “Mommy hug” and holds out his arms.

Like when Molly sends me pictures of him playing at daycare and I almost cry because I can’t believe how absolutely wonderful he is.

My Mother's Day Wish List

How bad is it that for Mother's Day I want to clock out for a bit?

I love being a mom. I love my son. I love being a wife, and I love my husband. But sometimes I find myself dreaming longingly about days where I can lay in my pj's all day, read, and watch whatever I want on TV (read: not Mythbusters). I want to eat pop tarts for breakfast, cream of wheat for lunch, and cereal for dinner. I want to go shopping and take my sweet time meandering through the stores, and maybe even try something on (I know--I dream big). I want to go to Barnes and Noble (still in my sweats) and curl up in one of the cozy chairs (because it's my perfect lazy day so one's open) with a banana chocolate smoothie and read for however long I want. And I want to do all of this without the nagging thought in the back of my mind that I'm being selfish and neglecting my family. And because I love my boys just too darn much to spend a full 24 hours away from them, I want them to take me out to dinner to a place I don't have to choose. I make way too many decisions for way too many people (myself rarely being one of them) every day--I'd like someone else to be responsible for a day. Other big dreams I have as a mom: a shower (the good kind--not just the get-clean-quick-during-Sesame-Street kind), shaved legs, a leisurely meal in which I get to eat all my own food at my own pace without getting spaghetti sauce smeared all over my white sweater because somebody wants to snuggle while he eats, a clean house, a chance to go out with my girlfriends without re-negotiating the weekly division of labor, and time to get some exercise and fresh air without sacrificing time with my family or desperately needed sleep. I also secretly dream that some day Ben won't be sick for four months straight so I don't have to use all my sick days (and then some) by February. That way I can *cough cough* call in sick, still take Ben to daycare (or better yet, have someone else take him because I'm sick), and have a clandestine date with my bed and a good book.

I also want a unicorn to bring me a million dollars.

In the meantime I will settle for an hour of free-time, and maybe some of that red licorice taffy from Trader Joe's. That stuff is good.

21 months, going on 2 years

My baby boy is almost two, and he's definitely showing signs of it. Besides the heinous tantrums, there are sweet things. He's talking so much, and I'm so proud of him. He can use articles (Matt: Ben, what are you reading? Ben: A book!) and make sentences (I want Cheerios!). He also loves to make up games. The other day I curled up on the couch with him to watch Sesame Street. I put my head in his lap (he loves when I do that--he likes to play with my hair and snuggle). He said, "Mommy!" I popped my head up and said, "what, baby?" He said, "Go to sleep!" then pushed my head back in his lap. He did it over and over and over again until the Gibbses came knocking on our door asking to play. He LOVES trains (choo choos) and cars, and he loves to cook. He also loves to read out loud. He can count to three (although sometimes he just says 2 and 9), knows his colors [but to be fair, some days everything is boo (blue)] and a few letters, can make at least a dozen animal sounds, and can identify pretty much every body part. He loves to build things (mostly towers) with his megabloks and duplo legos. And he could kick and throw a ball around all day. We don't do a lot of TV with him, but his 30 minutes a day(ish) comes from Sesame Street, movies like Cars and Nemo, and now Thomas. While he's a big-time snuggler and loves giving hugs and kisses (including open-mouth ones to Adalee), he's all boy. He's a ball of energy and he loves to get dirty. One of the things that's really fun (and a little sad--isn't it always when we realize our babies are growing up?) is that he's now able to really enjoy and do just about everything at the park. Our favorite park has this amazing playground equipment on the all-weather stuff, but they still have a sand area. Ben could spend hours at the park, running up and down the ramps, sliding on the swide, and playing in the sand with his shobo (shovel) and bkt (bucket).

Benjamin Aidan, I can't believe how big and wonderful you are. I LOVE you, and I LOVE sharing my life with you.