Wednesday, October 27, 2010


You're always making me smile for your silly pictures! Can I go play on the slide now?

Sunday, October 24, 2010

breaking it down

Punkin has always been a light-hearted kid. Even when he melts into rage, he can bounce back extremely quickly. As he's growing older, though, the meltdowns have sometimes become more difficult to manage as he's bigger, stronger, and a bit more prone to becoming stuck in his emotion.

Simply put, it's hard. It just sucks. It sucks to not know how to help him, to not be able to predict when we'll be able to go out in public and be successful and when we won't, and it sucks knowing that he can seriously hurt himself and others when he's upset.

I'd say that 75% of the time he is aggressive because he isn't using his words, not that he doesn't have them. He has the words, he can say the sentences, but when it comes down to the heat of the moment, he loses all of those skills and relies on some pretty combative body language.

20% of the time he's just angry that he isn't getting his way, which is what's going to happen the next time we go to the toy store. See, in the past we've always been able to walk through the aisles and play with the toys and then leave. But the last time we went to look for Halloween costumes, he fussed and tugged at my arm until we reached a Disney/Pixar Wonderland and discovered a Mac truck, actually Mac the Truck, from Cars. Ya.

"I hold it."
"No toys today."
"I hold it, Mom?"
"Put it back. Let's go."
"Mmm. I hold it."
"Not today."
"I hold it?"

It was a quiet persistence complete with giant saucer eyes, and I gave in citing the fact that I wasn't buying a costume that day (so I'm not buying one ever?) and that he really needed it for his set of Lightening McQueen cars that he's become rather attached to lately. COMPLETELY logical, right?

So ya. The next time we go to the store should be interesting. I envision hitting, kicking, yelling, toys flying off the shelves, me restraining him so that strangers can pass by unharmed. You know, the usual stuff. I might just go ahead and set it up the next time I feel thick-skinned and energetic to get it over with.

And the other 5% of the time? He's apparently turned into the kid who cries when mom leaves and I CAN'T HANDLE IT. He tries to be so brave; his bottom lip quivers and his eyes fill with tears as he says, "Bye, Mom. Love you," and then he just breaks down. And I have to give him extra hugs and kisses and then leave before I break down. Honestly, I think I prefer when he's pissed off. I can't handle sad.

Saturday, October 23, 2010

dear punkin,

I really shouldn't be so surprised each year when you suddenly seem so grown up, and yet here I sit in amazement of your burst of development over the past few weeks. You're gigantic, for one. And you're playing with your toys more than ever before, especially your kitchen. The most shocking development, though, is that you like to color. When did you decide that? And why did it take so long? See, I told you it was fun. Didn't want to believe your momma.

Anyway, you certainly haven't given up shredding paper by any means, and in fact you're playing with a few strips of newsprint as I write this. Whenever I ask you about the papers you tell me they're sharks, but it seems to me that they're the characters from your cartoons.

And today. Today we had probably 34 crayons and 12 markers spread out on the table and we started drawing faces. Well, I started drawing faces and you ignored me until you decided it was fun. I found out that you can draw a circle on command, which is sweet. I mean, you were probably doing it for your preschool teacher a long time ago, but there's no way you ever would have done that for me. After a couple minutes you ordered me to draw a circle (you are extremely convincing), you said, "eyes, eyes, mouth," and this was the result:

It's the one with the V-shaped mouth, just an FYI. I love it. And I know my car is super awesome, you don't have to tell me.

Thursday, October 21, 2010

bad choice, momma

So this one time about a year ago I decided I was really, really, REALLY sick of watching that one awful Christmas movie that may or may not have "accidentally" ended up in the garbage recently and turned on Spongebob. I eventually gave in and bought our first Spongebob DVD.

Fast forward to last weekend when I was talking to a college friend about cartoons and said something to the effect of, "I let Punkin watch Spongebob sometimes, but just certain episodes."
Ya, that was a lie. I didn't mean to lie, I think it was what I hope to do from now on rather than our reality.

See, there's this one episode where Spongebob is at Mrs. Puff's Boating School and a new student, Flatts the Flounder, sits down next to him. Spongebob leans over to greet him and Flatts answers, "I'm gonna kick your butt." Flatts, Spongebob, and a myriad of other supporting characters including an angry, middle-aged fish who chases a senior citizen fish down the street repeat this choice phrase about 37 times, maybe more, during the 13 minute episode.

Why? Why would I not skip over this episode on the DVD? Why would I let him watch it multiple times? Because I forget.

I forget that my little guy has a fantastic memory and when he's sitting on the potty he may begin throwing fists at me as if I am a punching bag while "pow-pow-powing" in hushed tones. "What are you doing?"

"I kick ya butt."

"Punkin, Flatts made a bad choice....."

Wednesday, October 20, 2010

this is how we're feeling today

Erika with the Windy Yellow Hair
Cherry Lane Music Publishing Co, Inc. - ASCAP

Erika with the windy yellow hair
Dancing through the day or moping by the stair
My joy to know my Erika with the windy yellow hair

Yesterday I met her running home from school
Her face was tear stained, she didn't know I knew
But I do, I do

Today she had a song to sing and a poem she knew
And with a kiss and a hug she dashed away, she had things to do
I do too, I do too

Lithesome child, I turn with care
When viewing you on step or stair
All my hope and love for you,
My Erika of the windy yellow hair

Thursday, October 14, 2010

i don't ask questions

I just help rearrange the couch cushions.
As an aside, even with the complaing about the apartment, I really do like it here. It's big and my landlords are nice. I think there's communication issues sometimes, but hopefully they see me as a good tennant and want to keep me here. I really don't want the hassle of moving.

Wednesday, October 13, 2010

everything you've heard is true

So things with the new stove and faucet have been going well. I've had other repairs on my mind, though, with regards to the apartment. And I have to say that if you're feeling like the place you're living needs work, you should just stay away from HGTV all together, specifically Income Property or Holmes on Homes. The Income Property guy is a dream landlord. Of course his apartments probably rent for as much as a mortgage, but we're not talking about money right now.

Anyway, back to me. Because it is all about me. I called my landlord and talked to her about a few things, the first of which was that my bathtub won't drain. And since it's old, the drain is weird and I can't figure out how to take it apart. She said she'd send someone over to clean it out, for which I am forever grateful. The thought of cleaning hair out of a drain is way worse than the day I stepped on a turd in Punkin's room. Like 56 times worse.

I also talked to her about the hole in the sink, and she was irritated that it hadn't been repaired, and about my fridge. The bottom shelf is sort of broken and the drawers are barely working. What happens is that every once in a while when you pull the drawer out, the entire bottom shelf collapses.

I also mentioned that my sliding glass door doesn't shut all the way. And then I apologized for complaining so much. But she sent someone over TODAY to fix everything. The sink has a stainless cap on it, the tub is clear, and they looked at the door. (My dad ended up showing me last night how to adjust it myself by turning the screws on the bottom of the door, so it was fixed before the guy showed up, but he inspected it anyway.)

The jury is out on the fridge. It looks like something may have been repaired in there, but I'm not sure. I called and left a message thanking them. Thirty minutes later while clearing the dinner table, the brand new garbage disposal stopped running. (Yes, I tried pressing the reset button.) I AM SUCH A PAIN.

But that's not what I really came here to tell you. See, about a month ago my neighbors across the hall moved out. They had about 17 kids and 3 adults living in a 2 bedroom. No biggie. Okay fine, it was more like 2 adults and 4 or 5 kids. When my apartment manager came to deliver my new stove she asked if I had a bug problem.

"Uh, no. If I did, you would know about it."
"Ya, I hate bugs. The place across the hall is crawling with roaches. They're everywhere, and I get to clean it! They trashed the place. I'm going to have your place sprayed too just in case."
"Thank you. That's really disgusting."

So the pest control guy came and sprayed and I felt so good knowing that it was just a precaution and that we were getting them before they could get me.

And then a week later I had to squish a couple of beetle-looking buggers. The second one especially caught my interest, so I googled, "cockroach" and quickly realized, to my horror, that they had in fact invaded my living space.

The pest control guy claims we will still see them for a couple weeks and then they will just go away. He is coming back in about a week to double check, though. In the meantime, if you've ever wondered if the description of cockroaches scurrying across the kitchen floor when the lights turn on is an exaggeration, it's not. Thankfully it was only one or I may not have been able to go back to sleep for fear of one of them crawling in our ears.

Sunday, October 10, 2010

cow has been begging for cookies all week

and with giraffe recovering from three broken ankles, we figured it was the perfect time to indulge him.

Friday, October 8, 2010

you have to admit, that's a pretty sweet "D"

I guess TV Teacher is working. Must reinforce paper idea. PAPER, not wall above couch. Paper, paper, paper. Look at that little one, though! It's perfect! I had to put him in timeout, but the whole time I was thinking, "That's AWESOME!"
As an aside, someone asked me how in the world I do things like take a shower in the morning without having my house destroyed. Well, all I was doing while this happened was changing my clothes. So there's your answer!

Wednesday, October 6, 2010

angela lansbury, come solve my mystery, please and thank you

Y'all, what is wrong with my sweet child? My sweet, sweet, potty-trained child? He went into the bathroom last week, stood in front of the toilet, and peed on the floor. Both yesterday and today he has not only declined the opportunity to sit on the potty, he has chosen to flail his arms and legs with the force of ten men in protest. My forehead almost met his stepstool this evening and he smacked my face with that ear-ringing open palm smack (gah!) all because the kid needed to try and poop and, guess what, I'd rather not have it all over my couch every single day. Wait, allow me to clarify. That makes it sound like I'd accept it every other day or something. NO. No poop. Never, please.

In cleaner news, Opa saved the day by fixing this beloved truck

thereby drawing attention away from Pink and Orange, which are thankfully now hiding behind the loveseat. (See, they really are there, and they're not going to move. If I move them, I WILL regret it. Oh, and that white thing is part of my blinds. Why have I not learned my lesson? Was it nineteen broken slats on the blinds in our last apartment before I finally took them down?)

Pink and Orange were threatening my sanity. They are just simple accordian tubes I picked up when my mom and I took Punkin to meet my sister for her birthday. He wasn't too keen on shopping, but these entertained him as we walked around.
The problem was that they soon became a source of self-stimming and barking. Normally when that happens, I can take the item away and tell him that we're "all done right now." Not so much with Pink and Orange. The tears were huge and they were from the heart. I am being forced to let this particular toy take its natural course through our lives. I'm sure we're not done with it yet, but the repaired truck that he's currently snuggling in bed with sure is a nice distraction.
Meanwhile he keeps asking for "pink," but he doesn't mean the pink tube. He means, as far as I can tell, an episode of SpongeBob. Which episode? I have no idea. Something to do with Plankton, I think. You're all welcomed to come over and play the, "Is this it?" game with him for a day. It's super fun. He doesn't become agitated at all. Neither do I.

Saturday, October 2, 2010

um, it looks better from this angle?

if i had a dollar for every time i said the words, "get off of the tv," i could at the very least afford to take a day off work.