Sunday: A day of rest? Hahahahaaaa……

Taking Adam to mass is better than it was, but it is still no picnic by any means.  I usually go armed with some big, thick picture filled animal book to get him through the hour.  A large clunky volume which he, inevitably, will drop on the floor and make a huge production out of picking up.  Just like this morning.

I sat there dumbfounded watching him make little to no progress in actually picking up the book and looked on as Grandma came to his rescue.  I wanted to badly to say to him, “SERIOUSLY!  You took Daddy’s car keys yesterday, went outside and successfully put the key in the ignition, turned it to the accessory position, turned on the radio and the headlights, but yet, YOU CANNOT PICK A BOOK OFF THE FLOOR?”  He was a half step from going all Thelma and Louise on us, but reaching down 18 inches is beyond his skill set?

As an aside, I take full responsibility for the car incident yesterday.  Earlier in the day, I had stepped out to pump gas and left the accessory on so he could listen to the radio.  When I returned, he asked why the radio didn’t turn off like it usually does and without realizing it would later be used against me, I explained “oh see, if you turn the key like this… the radio will play.”  Stupid, stupid me.

He followed up this display by pointing at walls which produced this scintillating, hissed conversation.

Stop that! Stop pointing because it’s rude.

I’m pointing at the wall.

Just stop please.

But the wall doesn’t care if I point at it? See??  ::point, point, point::

::Death Stare::

He paused in this behavior to then make his finger into the shape of a gun and point it toward the priest.  I’m pretty sure this was a variation on the “I’m pointing” routine and not a true assassination play.  I hope.

He rounded out the fun little episode of stubborn behavior by lifting his arm straight in the air with a balled little fist at the end which struck me less as “black power” and more as “Heil Hitler” when combined with his facial expression.  But according to him, he was no longer pointing, thus fully in compliance with my wishes.

After mass, he was to leave with my mother and go to her house for an afternoon of mama free restrictions.  He asked pointedly, “Will you be there?”  I quizzed him, wondering why that mattered.  “Because if you aren’t there, I can sneak more stuff.”  Fab.

In the parking lot resisting all efforts to hold my hand and avoid the plethora of cars who were leaving the scene, my mother started to warn him:

You’d better watch out… well, there’s nothing that you can do that will make your mother say I can’t take you home from church with me today.


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Greetings from SnOMG Snowpocalypse 2014.

A decade from now, people will be all “Hey, remember back in ’14 when they predicted a foot of snow on a Sunday followed by seriously subzero temperatures?  And everyone literally bought every loaf of bread to be had in a tri-state area like they were going to be snowed in for three weeks?  And they were back on the roads by Tuesday, bitching that the road crews hadn’t done a good job and crashing into each other? And then finally it warmed to above freezing on Friday, started raining and the snow melted away? Yeah? Those were the days.”

Greetings from SnOMG Snowpocalypse 2014.


Our fancy snowman … he fell over like a drunkard within an hour of his creation.


This is my second favorite picture of the storm.


Ahh …winter. You can sure create some pretty art.


THIS. This was my favorite picture. He was all “look at me, look at me,” and the next thing you know, WHOOPS – he’s tumbling off the snow bank created by the plowing of 11.5 inches of snow and here’s mama with the cell phone…*click*.

On Monday, Adam will finally, blessedly, return to preschool and after a week of my cancelled school on top of a two week holiday break, the eternal never ending Christmas Break of 2013 will come to a close.

Not a moment too soon.

My dear, sweet little boy has given me a defiant “no” to almost every request I’ve made in the past two days.  He’s served quite a bit of time in our in house detention center (kitchen time out spot) and been sent to his room more than once.  He’s told me that I’m not in charge and I’ve pretty much accepted that as gauntlet thrown and challenge accepted.

All in all, it’s been a lot of fun! Making memories!  PRESCHOOL IS OPEN IN JUST 34 AND ONE HALF HOURS…………HOORAY!





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Merry Christmas to One and All

This Christmas I received several Christmas cards from friends.  Beautiful cards with lovely pictures of their children.  I’m always behind on Christmas; I can’t really get much done until school lets out for break and I rarely get it together to send cards.

So, since I’m off until January, I decided to get a jump on next year and go ahead and design next year’s card.  Thoughts?


Click on picture to get the full effect..and be able to read the captions, etc.  “Previously wrapped gifts” refers to the gifts he opened because they had his name on them while I was out purchasing his Santa gifts. No way was I re-wrapping them and had he been older I would have made him re-wrap them himself.

Or maybe this alternate?

card 2

Of course, this may be colored by the fact that I was awoken tonight at 10:30 PM by my child who I assumed was touching my feet looking for an empty place in our bed.  Not finding one, I waited for him to return, as HE ALWAYS does, with his blanket to crash on the floor.

I waited. Waited. Waited.

Intrigued and more than a little irritated, I got up to investigate, finding him on the computer in the office playing PBS kids.  Sensing his impending doom, he told me, “I don’t see you.” and sailed right past me back to his bed.

Indeed. Merry Christmas to all and to all a good night.

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