Hubby had bath duty last night while I was at the gym beating the hell out of a heavy bag. So this story has been passed down to me, but I think I can still do it justice.
Scene: Monkey Man was in the bathtub filled with fresh, clean water with Baby Aveeno Sensitive Skin Body Wash bubbles. Hubby realized he needed a cup with which to rinse Monkey Man. Hubby left for a brief moment. Upon his return, Monkey Man asked:
"Daddy, what happens when someone pees in the tub?"
Multiple Choice (all quotes are being said by hubby):
a. "We are an environmentally friendly family and NEVER waste a tub of water. Urine is sterile, boy, you continue your bath and afterwards we shall hug the trees."
b. "Ooh, let's see if it turns the bubbles yellow! Mommy will love that trick! If I add blue food coloring to the water, maybe the bubbles will turn GREEN!"
c. "What happens is I'm getting you out of that tub pronto, kid. Mommy will be getting back from kickboxing class in about 10 minutes. If you stay in there, she might want to continue her punch-kick combinations on me."
Friday, May 8, 2009
Monday, April 27, 2009
101 Uses for Cotton Candy
While at the beach yesterday to celebrate an unusually hot, but very welcome, beautiful day in New Jersey, Monkey Man's sophisticated palate demanded none other than a boardwalk delicacy, cotton candy.
"Monkey Man, keep stuffing more cotton candy into Daddy's mouth. Maybe he'll stop talking," Mommy urged.
"Monkey Man, keep stuffing more cotton candy into Daddy's mouth. Maybe he'll stop talking," Mommy urged.
Wednesday, March 25, 2009
It's All About Me
I'm turning 35 tomorrow. Part of me is amazed and freaked out by this, the other part doesn't really care. I don't care too much because I still feel like I'm 16 (and act like it, except when I have to be all Mom and pay a mortgage, feed the family, buy groceries, make appointments...I'm boring myself). That's the amazing part, too. How did I get here? Really, 35? I'm responsible for human life and the roof over my head? Wow. The more I think about it, the more I need a Xanax.
In honor of my birthday, here is some useless information about the person I am at the ripe old age of 35:
1. When I retire, which at this rate will be when I’m 85 as I watch my retirement fund jump off a building, I want to travel the country in an RV with the hubby. Of course, I want it to be one of those crazy apartments on wheels with the walls that extend out, granite countertops, and a master suite. I like the comforts of home, but I want my home to go all over the country. When we are done traveling, I want to move to Hawaii. It’s a simple plan, really.
2. I am pretty quiet around people I don't know well. But once I get to know you, I’m not so quiet anymore. People are sometimes surprised at just how different I can be. It's all about my comfort zone, and I enjoy my comfort zone.
3. I am a neat freak. It gives me great peace and joy to throw out stuff and organize. I am that person that can have someone tell me they are stopping by in 10 minutes, and my house is usually neat. Even with a 4 year-old Monkey Man, I manage to keep his toys and everything else contained, probably to a point where I am raising a neurotic, OCD child. Oh well. The bright side is hopefully his future significant other will appreciate me.
4. I'm afraid of birds, fish, serial killers and flying. Birds are unavoidable, so if they swoop down too close, I freak out. Fish are pretty avoidable and my fear of them is why Monkey Man will never have a goldfish named Goldie. As for serial killers, I’m pretty much convinced they lurk around every van ready to pull me in. And flying, I absolutely HATE it, but I love to travel, so my fear won’t stop me.
5. I found out I was pregnant with Monkey Man in a restroom in Wendy's in Kentucky (on our cross country road trip for my 30th birthday). This is a sign of my impatience. I could not wait another few hours until we arrived at hubby's grandmother's in southern Illinois. Nope. Had to know right away, even if I had to pee on a stick in a public restroom. I walked in to that bathroom not knowing what was about to show up on that stick, and walked out feeling like my world was about to change forever. Although Monkey Man was totally in our plans, that feeling was right on.
Tomorrow I will don a birthday hat and eat cookies for breakfast. Because it's my birthday, and there's almost nothing I love more than cookies. Except naps. I'll try to sneak that in tomorrow, too.
In honor of my birthday, here is some useless information about the person I am at the ripe old age of 35:
1. When I retire, which at this rate will be when I’m 85 as I watch my retirement fund jump off a building, I want to travel the country in an RV with the hubby. Of course, I want it to be one of those crazy apartments on wheels with the walls that extend out, granite countertops, and a master suite. I like the comforts of home, but I want my home to go all over the country. When we are done traveling, I want to move to Hawaii. It’s a simple plan, really.
2. I am pretty quiet around people I don't know well. But once I get to know you, I’m not so quiet anymore. People are sometimes surprised at just how different I can be. It's all about my comfort zone, and I enjoy my comfort zone.
3. I am a neat freak. It gives me great peace and joy to throw out stuff and organize. I am that person that can have someone tell me they are stopping by in 10 minutes, and my house is usually neat. Even with a 4 year-old Monkey Man, I manage to keep his toys and everything else contained, probably to a point where I am raising a neurotic, OCD child. Oh well. The bright side is hopefully his future significant other will appreciate me.
4. I'm afraid of birds, fish, serial killers and flying. Birds are unavoidable, so if they swoop down too close, I freak out. Fish are pretty avoidable and my fear of them is why Monkey Man will never have a goldfish named Goldie. As for serial killers, I’m pretty much convinced they lurk around every van ready to pull me in. And flying, I absolutely HATE it, but I love to travel, so my fear won’t stop me.
5. I found out I was pregnant with Monkey Man in a restroom in Wendy's in Kentucky (on our cross country road trip for my 30th birthday). This is a sign of my impatience. I could not wait another few hours until we arrived at hubby's grandmother's in southern Illinois. Nope. Had to know right away, even if I had to pee on a stick in a public restroom. I walked in to that bathroom not knowing what was about to show up on that stick, and walked out feeling like my world was about to change forever. Although Monkey Man was totally in our plans, that feeling was right on.
Tomorrow I will don a birthday hat and eat cookies for breakfast. Because it's my birthday, and there's almost nothing I love more than cookies. Except naps. I'll try to sneak that in tomorrow, too.
Tuesday, March 24, 2009
Soo BIG!
Monkey Man's bedtime routine was just beginning tonight - teeth were brushed and potty time was coming up next. As is the case every night, upon my urging him to go potty, he announced, "I'll just try." (We always encourage trying, constantly saying, Just Try It - particularly with foods. Most specifically with vegetables. I'm sure we are setting ourselves up for complete failure when he gets lured behind the school building to "just try the vial of crack." Crap. You just can't win.)
So he tried, and had success, then yelled with his usual vim and vigor, "I gotta go poopy!" So I left the bathroom to give him the privacy that he always requests so that he can read through the latest Sports Illustrated or Entertainment Weekly. I went into his bedroom to get his pajamas out when I heard him cackling with laughter.
"Mommy, I had a really big poop! It's bigger than me! Come look!"
Sometimes being a mom can get a little monotonous. But not tonight. When I looked into the toilet, I understood his sheer excitement. The kid was right. It was pretty damn big.
So he tried, and had success, then yelled with his usual vim and vigor, "I gotta go poopy!" So I left the bathroom to give him the privacy that he always requests so that he can read through the latest Sports Illustrated or Entertainment Weekly. I went into his bedroom to get his pajamas out when I heard him cackling with laughter.
"Mommy, I had a really big poop! It's bigger than me! Come look!"
Sometimes being a mom can get a little monotonous. But not tonight. When I looked into the toilet, I understood his sheer excitement. The kid was right. It was pretty damn big.
Sunday, March 22, 2009
SPRINGfield has Sprung
Ahhh, the sun is beginning to shine a bit warmer. Birds are chirping. Flowers are popping up along my walkway. And to kick off a much needed spring season after a bitter cold, snowy Jersey winter, Rick Springfield will be just 20 minutes from my house in less than 2 weeks. I will be enjoying his rippling biceps with a renewed spring in my step.
However, I’m in a bit of a quandary. My last concert in Virginia Beach in September gave me more than I could imagine (well, I could IMAGINE more, but I have to leave it to my imagination – I am a married woman!). I’m now looking to up the ante next week.
I need suggestions, and this is where you, the readers, come in. Remember, I love my husband and intend to stay married so let’s keep it within reason. I’m hoping to plant my butt in the lobby of the hotel, wait for the man, and take it up a notch. So before you let your creativity flow, let me give you a recap of Virginia Beach:
•Album signed
•Kiss on cheek
•Signature on butt of jeans
•RICK tattoo with Sharpie done by Rick himself, on small of back (yes, ladies, a tramp stamp. Is the big, green monster rearing its ugly head?)
You may have guessed, but I like to have fun and I like to take opportunities when they present themselves. Therefore, if I should have the great honor to be in Rick’s presence yet again next week, What Do I Do?
However, I’m in a bit of a quandary. My last concert in Virginia Beach in September gave me more than I could imagine (well, I could IMAGINE more, but I have to leave it to my imagination – I am a married woman!). I’m now looking to up the ante next week.
I need suggestions, and this is where you, the readers, come in. Remember, I love my husband and intend to stay married so let’s keep it within reason. I’m hoping to plant my butt in the lobby of the hotel, wait for the man, and take it up a notch. So before you let your creativity flow, let me give you a recap of Virginia Beach:
•Album signed
•Kiss on cheek
•Signature on butt of jeans
•RICK tattoo with Sharpie done by Rick himself, on small of back (yes, ladies, a tramp stamp. Is the big, green monster rearing its ugly head?)
You may have guessed, but I like to have fun and I like to take opportunities when they present themselves. Therefore, if I should have the great honor to be in Rick’s presence yet again next week, What Do I Do?
Thursday, February 19, 2009
Watch Your Mouth!
This morning, while preparing breakfast – toasting a bagel and pouring cereal – Monkey Man began telling Hubby about the man who moved the bucket in the parking lot. Hubby was completely confused, not understanding what Monkey Man was talking about. Monkey Man is almost 4, and tells very coherent, logical stories, so Hubby was thrown. It was then that I needed to step in and fess up.
Yesterday, while parking at Target with Monkey Man, I patiently waited with my blinker on for a car pulling out of a parking spot. As soon as the car was almost fully out of the spot, a car pulled around the front of the lane and zipped right into the spot! There are several things that make this situation BAD: 1) I am hormonal 2) I am from New Jersey 3) You freakin’ took my parking spot!
And this is what could be heard in my car:
Me: “You f***in’...” (I stopped myself from using the next word that rhymes with witch after I realized I just said a VERY BAD word)
Monkey Man: “Mommy, why’d you say f***in’?”
Me: (thinking, crap, crap, I need a diversion)
Monkey Man: (who still didn’t get an answer) “Mommy, I asked why’d you say f***in’?”
Me: “Oh, I said BUCKET. There was a bucket in the parking lot and I almost ran over it!”
Monkey Man: “Where’s the bucket? I don’t see it.”
Me: “The man took it away so I wouldn’t run over it.” (At this point, Monkey Man is probably thinking he’s lost his mind – there wasn’t a man in sight, and certainly no bucket)
Monkey Man: “That was nice of the man to move the bucket.”
Me: “Yes it was. Yes it was.”
(Special apology to my mom who reads this blog and taught me better– sorry for my potty mouth.)
Yesterday, while parking at Target with Monkey Man, I patiently waited with my blinker on for a car pulling out of a parking spot. As soon as the car was almost fully out of the spot, a car pulled around the front of the lane and zipped right into the spot! There are several things that make this situation BAD: 1) I am hormonal 2) I am from New Jersey 3) You freakin’ took my parking spot!
And this is what could be heard in my car:
Me: “You f***in’...” (I stopped myself from using the next word that rhymes with witch after I realized I just said a VERY BAD word)
Monkey Man: “Mommy, why’d you say f***in’?”
Me: (thinking, crap, crap, I need a diversion)
Monkey Man: (who still didn’t get an answer) “Mommy, I asked why’d you say f***in’?”
Me: “Oh, I said BUCKET. There was a bucket in the parking lot and I almost ran over it!”
Monkey Man: “Where’s the bucket? I don’t see it.”
Me: “The man took it away so I wouldn’t run over it.” (At this point, Monkey Man is probably thinking he’s lost his mind – there wasn’t a man in sight, and certainly no bucket)
Monkey Man: “That was nice of the man to move the bucket.”
Me: “Yes it was. Yes it was.”
(Special apology to my mom who reads this blog and taught me better– sorry for my potty mouth.)
Tuesday, January 27, 2009
Monkey Man's Life Lesson #104
Toilet seats are cold. Especially in the winter.
Overheard while Monkey Man was doing his Monkey Business:
Monkey Man: "Mommy, the seat is cold."
Me: "Sorry about that, buddy."
Monkey Man: "Can you warm it up?"
Hmm, let me check my job description:
Wipe butt, okay, got that.
Clean puke, yes, check.
Endure tantrums in public places, yep.
Oh, so sorry, but pre-heating the toilet seat is not on the list.
Overheard while Monkey Man was doing his Monkey Business:
Monkey Man: "Mommy, the seat is cold."
Me: "Sorry about that, buddy."
Monkey Man: "Can you warm it up?"
Hmm, let me check my job description:
Wipe butt, okay, got that.
Clean puke, yes, check.
Endure tantrums in public places, yep.
Oh, so sorry, but pre-heating the toilet seat is not on the list.
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