Poop, Puke and Paint...Oh My!

Today is the first day after working three 12-hour days in a row.  Granted, the second day was only seven hours, but still tiring none the less.  I can't believe how exhausted I am.  My friend Jeana, also an RN albeit retired now, used to sleep nearly to noon after working mulitples and I could never understand why.  Now I do.  Alas, I don't get to sleep to noon anymore thanks to a very beautiful little blonde.  I also don't get to have nice stuff anymore either.  Well, I do buy nice stuff and it doesn't stay nice for very long.  Which brings me to how atrociously depressing this first-day-off-in-three has been. 

I awoke this first-day-off-in-three to clouds -- I felt blissfully happy.  I figured today was going to be blustery and wintery like winter is supposed to be -- but it was not.  First thing after breakfast I go to fold the laundry in the dryer.  As I am taking out each white piece of clothing I notice ugly black stains on my shirts and new Victoria Secret underwear -- each item resembling a Jackson Pollock painting.  Long story short -- I forgot to take a pen out of my scrubs.  It is usually the teenager, toddler or dog destroying my nice stuff - this time it was my own carelessness.  For example, a few years ago I bought a $500 hand loomed area rug from Pottery Barn.  I didn't have it three months before the two dogs had ruined several areas of "loomage" with their playing.  I still covet this rug dearly so today when I noticed a faint green stain I just felt sick.  The green stain looked very similar to previous stains I had cleaned up and those were due to dog bile - more specifically Jack the Dog "throw up."  After spending fifteen minutes trying to get the stain out I can only assume this happened on one of the last three days because it looks quite "set in" so I give up and go outside.

While outside watering the plants and cleaning the patio I notice paint on my $800 patio furniture.  Red paint.  Also, red and yellow paint all over the flagstone.  Seriously.  Can this get any worse?  All I get out of Ethan is "Daddy and Jace were painting".  Painting a project on my $800 patio furniture. I don't even know what to say to this..... so I will leave it at that.  At this point I go to the bedroom with my head in my hands because I can't believe this day: stains on the clothes ($$), stains on the patio furniture ($$$$) and a big green stain on my rug.  I start to sit down on the chest at the bottom of my bed and on the antique quilt I bought in Vermont ($$$)....POOP stains. Apparently Ethan had pooped outside earlier without telling me and had sat on my antique quilt while I hung pictures begging me to let him on the bed (thank god I said no to that). 

To say this day has been completely draining and feeling very much like work (cleaning poop and bile) is an understatement.  Poop seems to be a recurring theme in my life and of my blog.  I only wish it were as funny in real life as it seems to be to those who read my blog.  If I weren't so exhausted I would probably be laughing my ass off right now -- okay not really.  At this point poop just isn't funny anymore. 

Perhaps tomorrow after a good nights sleep I will be less exhausted-- and maybe -- just maybe the weather will be more agreeable with clouds, much colder temperatures and snow.  I think I may feel much more positive about poop -- after all tomorrow is another day.

"Yes We Got Along!"

The question I hear most since I got back from my trip to Boston was -- "Did you two get along?"  I am not sure if this alludes to me and my unwarranted pretentious disposition or just a question one would ask when you plan a vacation with someone you haven't seen in 15 years.  I hope it is the latter.  When you think about it planning a four day trip with someone you haven't talked to or seen in fifteen years, let alone sharing a hotel room, does seem rather risque.  Oddly, or not, it was if we picked up where we last left off. 

We last left off when her youngest, and my only one at the time, both were three.  Now hers are 18 and 21 and my oldest is 18 and youngest is three.  For her it must be like de ja vu because she keeps calling my now three year old, Ethan, "Jace" his older brother - who at the time was three.  It seems as though much has changed yet who we are at the core really hasn't.  I feel very fortunate to have reconnected with my friend whom I have known since third grade.  Even more fortunate that her memory of things is much more preserved than mine and I get to hear stories of our childhood, and later, letters -- of things I had forgotten.

For those who anticipated I would have scared my dear friend away with my critical unabashed unfounded and pretentious wisdom -- I didn't. Nor did her snoring scare me away.  We look forward to our next trip.

Joys of Parenthood: Overflowing Toilets

As I was in the kitchen preparing to pour myself a much needed Jack Daniels...no... just kidding...I was pouring myself a Coke (yes -- can you believe it?  From a can.  I have weaned myself off of McDonald's Coke).  Anyway, all of the sudden Ethan comes sloshing (yes, sloshing) out of my bedroom saying "uh oh!"  I run to the bathroom and what do I see:  a toilet overflowing -- poop and all.

It seems as though "poop" is a predominant theme in my blog and I am wondering if I should change the title to "Just Another Blog About Poop"?  I don't know if this keeps happening because I have a toddler or because I am an RN.  Patient's always want us to see their poop -- for some reason they think we are obsessed with it.  We are not.  The doctor just wants to know they are pooping -- which is why I have to ask "when was your last BM?"  I don't use the word "poop" since it seems rather vulgar.  Anyway, it could be poop is so predominant in my blogs because anything that has to do with the butt is funny... farting, pooping, gerbils (well, that's another story) and my toddler is into all of those...except gerbils. 

I went into hyper-speed (Star Trek Lingo) to clean up the poopy mess since our baseboards were covered in toilet water by at least a 1/2 an inch and moving fast toward the wood floor. Once it was cleaned and the adorable little Ethan had finally stopped saying "I didn't do it on purpose (which is his new saying for everything he does now)...." -- we sat back to watch Dora and drank some deliciously ice cold canned Coke.

Gel Polish...what's that?

A few weeks ago I learned from the manicurist I could have nail polish that would not wash off or chip for three to four weeks for the reasonable price of $30 (including manicure).  "Wow!" I thought -- that would be great since I wash my hands so much regular polish barely makes it past a couple of days.  I asked if it was damaging to the nails and the answer was "no."  The process involved baking each of the five coats in a mini tanning bed like contraption (same machine used for fake nails) for five minutes each.  Unfortunately the nail polish, which is basically gel "fake" nails, lasted only ten days and was very damaging to my nail.  My nails are very brittle and thin as if I had "fake" nails put on.  They really did look beautiful for the ten days they lasted.  Always shiny and no chipping.  However, because of the nail damage I would not have it done again.  Well, unless it was for a special occasion because it did look good.

Long Day

Today we planted seed, fertilized and spread cow manure for the new lawn.  It was alot of work.  6,000sf doesn't seem so big until you have to spread forty bags of cow manure (and forty bags was not enough -- we still need forty more!).  It is only the beginning however.  Now we have to do round the clock watering to keep it moist for the next three to four weeks.  Loads and loads of positive thoughts won't hurt either.  Although I am not really one to believe in the positive-thoughts-brings-a-positive-outcome-mumbo-jumbo -- you either did it right or wrong and time will tell.

Tomorrow is another day of time-consuming yard work as well.  We have to unload forty bags of mulch (80lbs each) into our border area as a "dressing."  I am so tired right now I just can't wait for tomorrow!

Poop on The New Couch

One of the humorous things about potty training is your toddler's attempt at wiping his butt.  However, it is not so funny when the words "poop" and "new couch" are in the same sentence.  My husband told me last night Ethan disappeared for a moment only to reappear and sit next to him on the couch.  It didn't take long for him to notice a brown stain on the couch.  At first he thought it was a chocolate stain (if you knew my husband you would know this probably sent a shiver of excitement through his body since he loves chocolate more than his own son) then quickly realized it was not.   I won't go into the gory details about how Ethan didn't do such a good job at wiping his butt, "but" my husband moved swiftly into action by cleaning the butt and the couch and all is well again until the next time. 

Winter Grass Wonderland

 It is that time of the year again and after getting an estimate of $650 to scalp, dethatch and plant winter grass we decided to do it ourselves…again… and hope the lawn looks better this year than it did last year (and the year before).  I have planted winter lawns for the majority of the years I have lived in Arizona, which is nearly all of my life, and none has beguiled me more than this Maricopa lawn.  After multiple conversations with landscapers, Home Depot Guys, and other neighbors I learned we just have really bad soil.  Since I don't want to pay someone to do the lawn and I want it to look great I had to do some research on how to make my lawn look fabulous this winter.

A fabulous lawn requires good -- not crappy soil.  In order to give our lawn the best start we will need to get rid of as much summer grass as possible and tear up the top 1/4" of soil.   It took nearly two days and approximately 10 large garbage cans full of clippings to get the lawn ready for dethatching. This involved mowing the lawn two to three times to get the summer grass to about an 3/4" tall.  Unfortunately, after mowing away the last green Bermuda grass I received our water bill with the new rate increase -- needless to say $214 is ridiculously high for a house that doesn't have a pool! And that made me think twice about my winter lawn.

By looking at the pictures of our lawn one can see why our bill might be a bit high.  Our lot is on 1/4 acre and our yard comprises about 6,000 s.f..  The best thing about where we live -- is our yard and it is quite beautiful when it is green.  I guess we will put up with the large water bills for awhile. 

After scalping the lawn (cutting it very low with the mower) we dethatched it with a dethatcher. This is a machine that tears up the top 1/4" of soil and loosens any thatch (grass smothering the soil).  After the dethatching we will plant the winter seed, spread a generous amount of manure and fertilizer -- then water, water, water.  As always -- I will post my progress as it happens.  For better or worse.

Who was I kidding?

I just received my plans and DVD from The New Yankee Workshop for my Adirondack Chairs. Not only do I need much bigger tools (and more expensive) than what I thought there is no way I can build this. Norm, the woodshop guy, only supplied instructions to cut wood “from scratch.” In chef-speak that would be like making a cake not from a box with the name Betty Crocker on it -- or imagine cutting down a tree and making a two by four out of it. Alas, I am afraid the Adirondack chair is way out of my league (even with a helper) at this time – or forever.

My trusty little helper, Ethan, and I are going to stick to easy stuff.  For example, we are adding bun feet to this ancient treasure chest (not really -- well, we are really adding bun feet it just is not ancient) and then refinishing it.  We will keep you posted and hopefully for the rest of the work he will have his pants on.

Mommy Group

I was a single parent for fifteen years, and so it seemed, feared by all married women because I may steal their husband (that is what we single women do -- prey on married men).  I never really felt like I fit in with the married Mommy's neither then nor now.   And so it was with trepidation that I went to a Mommy Group get together last week.  It wasn't as bad as I thought it would be and  not as excruciatingly humiliating as the Stroller Strides mommy group.  Stroller Strides is a married mommy group that meets for fitness and association.  The association part I get, but the fitness part was a joke.  I felt like a complete fool jumping around a stroller singing nursery rhymes while an overweight mommy shouted orders from a bench. I lasted one meeting in that group.

One of the members of this new mommy group is starting a book club so I asked for the details to join.  You can't imagine how overjoyed I was to meet women who were as hungry for intellectual stimulation as I am (and can you blame me -- I spend the majority of my week with a three year old?).  When I received the email I noticed it was at someone's house so I inquired about having it at the Library so as not to be disturbed by children during our vigorous debates (or so I fantasized) and added "children aren't allowed, right?"  Well, if I was interested in the club, that comment cemented their non-interest in me.  Unfortunately, I was unaware of the rule "never have a get together that isn't centered around your off-spring." As such my comment revealed me to be undesirable mommy club material and have not been invited back.  Kind of bummer because I was really looking forward to hanging out with a bunch of non-feminist-pacifier-toting-my-baby-is-the-center-of-my-universe anti-intellectuals. Not.

Being a Parent Sometimes Sucks A**

Of course there are many beautiful moments of being a parent like when your child says for the first time "I love you momma" or "I touch your boobies, I love you."  What about nursing your child? Those were very special times watching them fall asleep in your arms.  I used to sleep with my first son on my chest when he was newborn -- that was special time.  What about the look on his face the first time he scored a goal in soccer?   Yes, that was a precious moment.

But... there are those moments when it is not so beautiful.  For example the time one of them tooted in the grocery store line and people were looking at me like I did it (I didn't).  Or the time my older son, at age three, escaped into the garage, found my open red can of paint and painted my white car?  I can tell you racing stripes on a taurus wagon looked really stupid.  There was also the time my son decided to run away because he didn't get what he wanted.  He made it to the park and hid in a tree while a police car drove around looking for him (of course I called the police the minute he walked out the door to teach him a lesson).  He came home a little bit later saying it didn't work out because the police were looking for him.  Then there was the time he stole a hat from Sport Chalet (he was 15). I discovered his indiscretion, took the hat away, called the police, explained the siutation and asked if they would have an officer meet me at the store. He didn't get arrested, but it scared the bejesus out of him which was the point.  But nothing sucks a** more than having given your grown child the tools to have a decidely better life than most then have to kick him out of the house because he decided mooching was better than working for something.  And that...is why I think parenting sucks a** right now.

"My Roomate Drew It On There..."

Today my oldest son showed up at my house to get ready for a job interview (why he didn't get ready at his place of residence I do not know).  During our brief visit I noticed the top half of his cast was gone (he sawed it off) and that he was sporting a rather prominent drawing of a penis with testicles on it.   I didn't say anything about this until he came back from his interview.  He told me the manager asked when he was going to have "this removed (pointing to the cast)" -- to which my son replied "oh that ...my roommate drew it on there..." thinking he was pointing to the drawing.  The manager, being a man (hence the term man-ager), was as unaffected by the drawing as my son was and said "no, I mean the cast..when are you having it removed?"  Oddly, my son got the job.

I am thrilled he got the job and hope he doesn't reason with his teenager-male-brain the penis picture brought him luck and have it made into a tattoo.

Ethan the Dog?

My three year old, Ethan, drinks out of the dog bowl. If any of his food falls on the floor and I call for Jack the Dog -- Ethan throws himself on the floor and licks up all the food before Jack gets there. Today I caught him eating the peanut butter for Jack’s treats (it was in the bag with the dog treats). To make matters worse Jack saw someone walk by the front window so he started barking -- and so did Ethan. Could he be turning into a dog? Is this normal? Should I seek psychiatric help or will he outgrow this? Maybe I am not socializing him enough and he is perhaps spending too much time with Jack. I guess I will really worry when he lifts his leg to pee on something – for now it is just a few harmless dog treats and barking. 

He Did It!

Big brother Jace got Ethan to poop on the potty today! When asked how he did it he just said “I told him he is not pooping in a diaper or outside – it is on the potty or not at all.” We suspect big brother may have been motivated by selfish reasons to demand his little brother poop on the potty and not in his usual spots. But, really, what teenage boy wants to wipe poop off a three year old’s butt even if it is your brother? I know Jace didn’t relish following Ethan around with a baggy in the yard either – he doesn’t even like picking up after the dog. In this case, selfishness triumphs over evil (okay, that is a little dramatic). Whether a miracle or the result of brotherly shame for us it means the end of diapers, pooping in the grass and picking it up with baggies.

This is a momentous occasion deserving of celebration with cookies and milk – and maybe ice cream too!

Cowboy Boots

One would never know by looking at me today, but I used to wear boots nearly all the time growing up and into my early twenties. So if anyone has experience on knowing how to pick the right size boot it should be me. However, it has been nearly twenty years since I last put on a pair of boots and I forgot about the size rules. As such I ended up buying three pairs of boots trying to get the right size. After the second pair purchase I decided to do some internet research on how to fit a cowboy boot and the information I found was at best -- inaccurate. Having owned numerous pairs of cowboy boots (Justin Ropers, Tony Lama) I always had to go one to two sizes smaller than my regular shoe size. First of all, if you buy a good quality leather boot – it will stretch. You don’t want to buy it too big anticipating you can wear a thick sock unless you are in a climate warranting thick socks. Here – not so much. When I used to wear and buy Justin Ropers I would have to get a 4 ½ B, which is two sizes smaller than what I usually wear. Every brand is different, but as a rule you will wear a smaller size in a leather boot. My recommendation is to shop around for several brands since some are more comfortable than others.

Since I don’t get much opportunity for shopping I turned to endless.com. I bought about six boots from them last fall and returned them all because they were not what I wanted – and I did not have to pay a dime for shipping coming or going! This year I finally found a boot I thought I might like and based on the reviews bought them in my usual shoe size (not boot size). As mentioned previously the first pair was too big so I ordered the next smaller size and sent the first ones back. The second pair was also too big so I ordered the third pair one full size smaller than my usual shoe size – size 6B. They arrived today and they fit perfectly. I tried both the 6 ½ and 6 on with thick and thin socks and the 6 ½ was still loose. In my experience one would not want to wear thick socks with cowboy boots as so many “experts” advise. As such I decided to go with the smaller size since it was still loose and being leather it will loosen up more.

The best things about endless.com are one can buy multiple sizes to find the right fit and boot, initial and return shipping are free and it is on-line. For mom’s of small children you know how horrible your children act when you are trying to shop in the store? Well, now they can still act horrible, but no one can judge you since you are shopping on-line.

Adirondack Chairs

I have decided my next project is to make an Adirondack chair. I don’t know if you know this, but to buy one already made is very expensive (usually over $100). What is an Adirondack chair you may ask? Well according to Wikipedia the Adirondack chair was designed by Thomas Lee in 1903 while he was on vacation in Westport, New York, in the heart of the Adirondack Mountains. Apparently he wanted outdoor chairs for his summer home. The “original Adirondack chair was made with eleven pieces of wood, cut from a single board. It had a straight back and seat, which were set at a slant to sit better on the steep mountain inclines of the area. It also featured wide armrests, which became a hallmark of the Adirondack chair.”

I have always loved these chairs and I think they would look great around our fire pit so I am ready to take on the challenge, get out my tools (and get some new ones) and go to work. I will keep you posted on my progress, or lack thereof, which often seems to be the case (the bike).

Book Fever

It appears I have ignited a small fire in my husband for reading. After reading Sh*t My Father Says I encouraged him to read a similarly funny book, You Say Tomato, I Say Shut Up. Unfortunately, he isn’t as enchanted with this witty book about marital un-bliss as he was with the aforementioned Sh*t, but is reading it none the less.

I just finished Mansfield Park by Jane Austen for my book club and needless to say it was a difficult read. Not only was the language obtrusive, but the lack of a strong female character made it very difficult for me to want to keep reading. Fortunately, I jumped ahead and read the end which made me more eager to finish the book. Yet in spite of jumping ahead I was still surprised by the ending because by skipping to the end I missed out why it ended the way it did. Does that make sense? In a nutshell Fanny marries her cousin Edmund (which is what I read when I jumped to the end), but what I failed to read was why she married Edmund and not Henry Crawford.  Incidentally, by jumping to the end I became very unhappy with Fanny for marrying Edmund and not Henry when he seemed to be so smitten and changed by her. However, when I finally got to the “end” and read the part before the part about her marrying Edmund I learned she didn’t want to marry Henry because he ran off with her married cousin Maria (to fornicate). Gasp! In the end I was glad she married her steadfast lifelong friend (and cousin) Edmund to live happily ever after.

As a general rule I don’t care for books with “happily ever after” because it usually involves some helpless woman who needs to be rescued by the big strong smart man, which is why I am so happy our next book is Joan of Arc by Mark Twain.  I did not know Mark Twain wrote about anything other than life on the Mississippi River but apparently he was very fascinated by the life of Joan of Arc. He researched her story for twelve years while he lived in France.  I don’t know much about her other than she kicked some serious butt in her day, was regarded as a leader of her people and did not have a “happily ever after” since she died at age 15. I have no doubt she was squelched out in her prime by a big strong smart man.

La Ville-Lumière

Père Lachaise Cemetery

I have had the extreme pleasure of inviting my very dear friend to go on vacation with us to Europe next spring. Ms. Kitty, as she will be known, has never been anywhere besides a handful of states nearby so going to Europe will be … surreal. I remember when I landed in Paris, The City of Lights,  for the first time it was… surreal. Unreal and unknown. There are very few experiences or things that have had a profound impact on my life and going to Europe in 1999 was one of them.

Jim Morrison lead singer of the Doors said once “There are things known and there are things unknown, and in between are the doors.” All that stands between knowing and not knowing is moving forward. Interesting. All that stands between experiencing life and not experiencing it is not moving at all. Incidentally Jim Morrison is buried in Père Lachaise Cemetery in Paris. His grave and those around him are decorated with various quotes from his life the most profound of which is “there are things known…and things unknown.” Who knows what it really means? Seeing Europe for the first time, moving forward into the unknown, will be a profound experience for my friend of which I have no doubt.



River  Seine in Paris



And on a lighter note it will be a profound experience for my husband and I since we both stated unequivocally after our last trip we would “never go to Europe again with you….ever!” You may be wondering why – you saw the pictures and read my posts so it looks and sounds like we had a great time. And we did – but he really pissed me off at the end and that is why I subsequently stated “never again.” Let me explain. My husband speaks three languages fluently and he refuses to translate. Apparently it hurts his brain. So, what we fight about is his lack of chivalry and my lack of motivation to simultaneously learn two new languages. Seriously, who’s in the wrong here? I am after all just a woman. Moreover, I believe expecting me to learn a language while working, cleaning, taking care of the baby, not getting any sleep, cooking meals (well, not really) and maintaining a household is totally unreasonable (I can hardly remember how to add and subtract half of the time).  No doubt we will need to resume the marriage counseling prior to the trip.

In the meantime, I will be looking forward to planning our trip and seeing my friend, Ms. Kitty, experience France, its amazing history and architecture as well as the effects of marriage counseling to make my husband a better translator. Amen.

As a side note...how does one spend ten plus days in Paris and take only two photos of the most famous sight there -- the Eiffel Tower and fifty pictures of a graveyard?

Horny Toads and Green Frogs

This past week we visited with my sister, mother, brother and their families in Parks, Arizona. I have to say 70° days and 40° nights were well worth the three hour drive. Besides visiting with family we were hoping to go on a local hike which we did -- Keyhole Sink Trail. This particular trail is a favorite with local elementary schools because of its easy unobstructed trail and short duration. This easy one mile round trip trail took us a little over an hour with two three year olds, a two and a half year old, a 15 month old and a few thirty somethings, one whom was hung over (and he knows who he is -- Toby).

This was a great hike for the children since we got to see quite a bit of wild life. The first thing we saw was a baby horny toad (Phrynosoma platyrhinos) which is neither horny or a toad – don’t ask me how it got its name. The three year olds loved this and I have to admit I did as well since I haven’t seen one in over 15 years. They used to be very common in the lower desert, but I imagine due to development they are being slowly eradicated. At the sinkhole we saw tadpoles and baby green frogs – again the three year olds loved this.

We really had a lovely day having had the opportunity to see so much wild life.  Hikes in the lower desert usually only yield rattle snake sightings which I am not particularly fond of when hiking with children.  As such this nearly two hour hike, well, it really didn’t seem like two hours until the last thirty minutes when all the toddlers wished to be carried (and so did some of the adults....the one with the hangover) was successful as a great family get together. 

Cilantro Flowers

I came home from work last night to four “vases (sippy cups)” of lovely “flowers,” also known as… cilantro, displayed prominently throughout the kitchen. This apparently was the work of my three year old who told his daddy “mommy will smell these and she will be happy!” After a long day at work nothing could have made me happier…except maybe a day’s worth of sleep.

Sleep, however, was something I did not get that night. My oldest son called me at 9 p.m. to tell me he thought he may have broken his wrist at a soccer game. After picking him up I realized it may be broken so we prepared to be off to medical services at 9:30 at night. Fortunately, my wonderful husband volunteered to take him to the urgent care. Since Jace is 18 he is still eligible to be taken to the nighttime pediatric urgent care in Mesa, Goodnight Pediatrics, which had….no waiting and an x-ray machine on site. One does not realize how great a find the pediatric urgent care is until you have waited in an ER for six hours with very little sleep. For me it was a suspenseful sleeplessness until 12:30 a.m. when they got back to confirm he has two fractures with displacement.

The night was bittersweet in spite of the sweet cilantro smell as I had my whole family under one roof, but one was in pain, the other was restless and the parents…were sleepless once again.

Sh*t My Dad Says

"On the democratic system:  'We're having fish for dinner...Fine, let's take a vote.  Who wants fish for dinner?...Yeah, democracy ain't so fun when it f*cks you, huh?' "

"On sportmanship: 'You pitched a great game, you really did.  I'm proud of you.  Unfortunately your team is sh*tty...No, you can't go getting mad at people because they're sh*tty.  Life will get mad at them, don't worry.'  "

I bought this book at Costco two days ago because I had seen the author on a talk show and the stories he told about his father were quite funny. I also had hopes of encouraging my husband to read something besides technical manuals on the fission of semi-conductor nanocytes. It worked. He hasn’t been able to put this book down and all too frequently bursts out with peals of laughter. This is the funniest book I have ever read, but have only had the opportunity to read for a few minutes at a time because I am currently reading the most boring book ever “Mansfield Park” by Jane Austen (my book club's choice). I must caution you though – if you find the “F” word offensive this book might not be for you. On the other hand if you find an educated professional spewing forth obscenities laced with unabashed wisdom -- you will love this.

Potty Training

"You are four years old.  You have to sh*t on the toilet.  This is not one of those negotiations where we'll go back and forth and find a middle ground.  This ends with you sh*tting in a toilet."  Quote by Sam Halpern as read in "Sh*t My Dad Says"

My son is 3 years old now and won’t poop on the toilet. I have tried praise, rewards, bribery, a firm tone of voice, demanding tone of voice and outright humiliating tactics (big boys poop on the potty and not in their diapers).  Unlike Sam Halpern I can't talk to my son the way he does in the opening quote -- even though it's as funny as all heck.  As such I had an idea for a different angle.  My son loves Diego so I thought perhaps I could reason with him by using that admiration to my advantage. One day I told him “Diego poops on the toilet” and he told me in the most matter-of-fact way --  “No, Diego poops in the jungle.” I decided to run with the idea and for while he had graduated from pooping in diapers to pooping in the backyard. I essentially hover nearby  until the deed is done then pick up the poop with a grocery bag (just like I do with the dog) then wipe his butt (I don’t do this with the dog). Unfortunately, he has to poop at the hottest part of the day and if I don’t get to it before Jack the dog does then there is no poop to pick up – which really sucks.

I bought the book “Where's the Poop?” thinking it might encourage him to go to the potty. I don’t know why I thought this since every animal in the book “poops in the jungle” which only reinforced not pooping on the potty. We are back to pooping in the diaper because picking up poop in the grass from your toddler just doesn’t seem right and it is too hot.  Ultimately I hope I am not picking up poop in the yard from my toddler until he is four -- that is as bad as nursing the first son until he was three.  In the meantime I am open to suggestions…..

"Super Secret Hiding Spot"

I often have to hide the "goodies" in the house from my husband because he will get up in the night and eat the entire container/box of the said "goodie."  I feel I must mention I do not buy the "goodies" my husband is the one who does that.  His favorite and the easiest to hide?  Nutella.  My toddler saw me hide the nutella one day in my "super secret hiding spot."  I have been a little concerned he will divulge this secret to his father, but so far he has been a good secret keeper.

This morning it was noticed by my toddler that his father bought two boxes of nutty ice cream cones.  I told him he could not have them for breakfast he would have to wait until the afternoon after lunch (I don't think he understood a bit of what I said), but he came up to me a few minutes later with the boxes saying we needed to "hide them from daddy in the super secret hiding place."  The little guy is becoming as smart as me more and more each day.

Toddler and New Couch = Oxymoronic

I have a beautiful couch and loveseat made of the prettiest red/tan striped cotton – it is quintessential cottage. Only problem is after three years it has become quite faded due to all the washings. And why have I had to wash it so much? Because my three year old insists on being near or on it only when he is dirty. I have been so dismayed by the faded arms I convinced my husband to let me buy a new couch with slipcovers. My rationale: he just bought a plasma tv. No really – I believed if I could have a couch with washable slipcovers in a light color I would never again have to be dismayed by an unattractive seating arrangement. Was I ever wrong.

I remember the day it arrived. I was at work so I asked my husband to take a picture and send it to me. He sent me a picture with our toddler standing next to it… I wanted to scream “get the baby away from the couch,” but I couldn’t because I was at work and might scare the patients. It was a foreboding sign. I reminded myself “the covers are washable, the covers are washable…” – it became my mantra.

My beautiful new slip covered couch arrived less than a week ago and it has already sustained “a mark.” Not just any mark, but a pen mark. I tried to spot clean it, but all that did was leave a really clean spot. You see, our new couch was a floor model and we got it at a huge discount (as well as its matching smaller sofa – it only made sense to buy the smaller one too). So it had been sitting on the store floor accumulating dust and debris so when I cleaned the “spot” it just made us realize how clean the whole couch wasn’t. It didn’t make me feel any better about the toddler damage, but it made me realize how foolish my idea was to have a light colored (off white to be exact) couch with a miniature wrecking machine running around our house with a slobbering dog in tow.

FaceBook Convert

I was never interested in having a Facebook page because I felt it was a superficial way to stay in touch with family and friends.  I believed people used it as a substitute to good old fashioned hanging out or talking on the phone, but I have finally given in to getting a Facebook page.  And it appears I am not the only recent Facebook convert in my network:  my sister Julie finally gave in and now has a Facebook page much to the happiness of her friends and family. Although I am not as obsessed as some -- I find it to be occasionally useful and somewhat entertaining.

Truth be told, and entertainment value aside, the real reason I am a Facebook convert is so I may follow what is going on with my son and share pictures with family.  It has been a few weeks and I still don't understand some of the idiosyncrasies of Facebook like why comments my "friends" make show up on my page, what the "wall" is, why it is so important to "accumulate" friends or why little advertisements appear with some one's name advocating for the product.  And oddly, with my brief experience, I have found Facebook to be somewhat like high school.  You are either popular with many friends....or not.  Everyone who is on Facebook knows which one you are -- just like high school.  My husband asked me how many friends I have and  I said thirteen -- I am not so popular.  I don't mind.  I had my turn...I was popular in high school.

Unlike high school, where I rarely had time to be lonely, the advancement of technology has only exacerbated the lack of in-person connecting for most of us today.  I believe one of my "friends" on Facebook summed up today's technology rather well:  ‎"It's supposed to make us feel more connected...but I feel lonelier than ever."  Facebook is a useful way to stay connected, but should never be used as a substitute for annoying people in person.

Bathroom Refurbish Done Inexpensively

Our shower door and partition trim (aluminum) have seen better days. The water in Maricopa is heavily laden with minerals which cause the metal to corrode rather quickly. As such our door looked rather disgusting in spots where the corroded metal "grew" a whitish substance eating away the paint. We tried cleaning it with various heavy duty cleaners, but nothing helped. Fortunately, my industrious and talented husband decided to take it apart and clean it up. Unfortunately, however, once he got the door and partition apart he realized it might not be so easy to put back together – especially without directions.

We went to Lowe’s and Home Depot thinking we could buy a new door with the accompanying partition. Boy did we get some sticker shock -- $300 and up for a custom replacement. Again, as in all other projects that involve dumping money into a house  in today's market we decided it just wasn’t worth it. We had to revert back to plan A which was clean it up, repaint it and put it back together. We estimated this would be a relatively easy project costing no more than $15 for paint and sandpaper.

Clean up involved sanding all metal pieces and cleaning with alcohol wipes. After a couple of coats of high quality semi-gloss paint the pieces were re-assembled in the bathroom with only a few minor glitches (and a fresh coat of paint to the walls). Much to our surprise and happiness -- it looks great! One of the positive aspects of cleaning it up was it had originally been brown – all the other fixtures in the bathroom are black satin save the lighting fixtures which will be painted later this week. I wasn’t really sure we could pull it off without it looking like it was painted by a novice, but it turned out quite well.

Go Fly a Kite..No Really…

Believe it or not, but my husband has never flown a kite. He says he was too poor, but I think it is because they don’t have kites in Germany. Last Sunday was his first time flying a kite. Albeit my kite assembly skills and his lack thereof, nearly cost him his experience. It has been many years since I flown a kite and as such one can see why I had the string on the wrong side (the stick side showing). Thanks to our neighbor, the inventor and fellow scorpion hunter, Shane, it was successful.

Shane and Erkan finally got the kite in the air much to the delight of the kids who ran around chasing it. For myself -- I enjoyed sitting in the shade with Jack Brody.

What is wrong with people?

I love craigslist, but lately my experiences have been more annoying than fun.  Most recently we tried to buy a Mazda hatchback to replace our Mazda sedan, but no one we contacted on Autotrader.com or craigslist.com would return our messages. Seriously we must have made a dozen calls and sent a half a dozen emails to various car owners and not a single person replied. I even sent and left a couple of scathing messages and they still wouldn’t call me back. The burning question is what is wrong with these people? Why advertise your car or item if you are not going to sale it? Moreover, when we have advertised different items we received constant emails saying “do you still have this car/item/thingimiggy” and I want to scream “if I sold it you wouldn’t see the ad dumbass.” I made the stupid mistake of saying in an ad “don’t send me an email asking if I still have this – if you are reading the ad – I still have it.” Of course I received a bunch of emails asking “do you still have this.” I asked for that one.

To all the people out there that do this: please stop ruining other people’s craigslist.com experience…answer you damn emails and stop asking “do you still have this?” – it is annoying.

Is Summer Over Yet?

My grass is dying. I give up trying to keep it green. Our water bill last month was $160 (the environmentalists will probably hate me for wasting so much water on aesthetics) and the grass still struggled to look lively. All of the plum trees died. The heat killed them – at least that is what I blame it on. The roses are struggling as well – nary a new leaf or bud in the last two months. Heck, if you left me outside in 118° day after day for two months I’d die to – in fact it happens to tourists quite frequently at the Grand Canyon. Arizona heat kills plants and people. No wonder nothing is green here.

Speaking of green… our little experiment of putting reflective insulated bubble packing over our windows to reduce the transfer of heat (aluminum windows) failed miserably to decrease our electric bill. Yes, it looks white trashy from the outside, but on the inside it is much cooler than without it. I can live with the white trash look for a couple of months for a cooler room. Oddly this is the thing we can’t figure out – the room is completely bearable compared to last summer so why isn’t the electric bill lower? We had considered replacing the windows, but unfortunately a $15k investment in our house was out of the question in this real estate market. Summers are brutal here and Fall isn’t any better.

I don’t believe the grass will recover during the wind down to fall (fall in Arizona? Now that is an oxymoron). Really, fall is a mere five to ten degrees cooler than summer and I would say most people will agree 100° is not “fall-like” weather. Two months to better weather is the way I see it. Two months left of unrelenting heat and then….green grass.

Cooking is Still Overrated

I took my own advice several weeks ago and cooked a few dinners from internet recipes. Of course, they didn’t look like the ones in the pictures, but they all turned out to be quite delicious. This was quite an accomplishment for me and at the time I believed I was turning over a new leaf. I believed I was going to be cooking exotic meals (anything besides a salad, spaghetti and tacos is exotic to me) from then on because it was fun, easy and tapped into my creative spirit.

Creating food masterpieces only lasted about one week.

The more I thought about it the more I realized it isn’t I didn’t enjoy the art of creating some food masterpiece it just seemed to be a lot of work to eat only a little bit.  I had to go to specialty stores for the majority of ingredients whose names I could not even pronounce.  Then there was the ever present fear what if it tasted bad?  What if I had spent all this time and money on something that is not even edible (those ingredients with unpronounceable names had ungodly price tags)?  It was fun during the making, but obviously not enough "fun" -- otherwise it would have lasted more than a week.  I may still create some exotic meal from time to time, but I will stick to things I know best like…mowing the lawn or refinishing furniture and leave the cooking to my husband.

"I Touch Your Boobies, I Love You"

I hear this statement multiple times throughout the day.  I am constantly being groped from behind, below and sometimes a full on frontal assault.  I can't escape and I feel like an object.  I have requested on numerous occasions a little privacy, but it seems to go over his head.  I even grope his boobies, but all he does is laugh.  I can't even sleep topless anymore because I might wake to find him with his hands on my boobs.  It is kind of sweet, but enough is enough.  For the love of Pete (whoever that is) he is three years old now and we stopped nursing a year ago.  Ethan, son, it is time to move on to some of those plastic toys you have and leave my boobies alone.

Garage Sale Secrets

It has taken many years to figure this out, although in my 22 plus years of being a real grown up I have had very few garage or yard sales, so it has taken awhile to learn you must price things cheap – and I mean like bubble gum machine candy cheap. I usually just give things to Goodwill by boxing it up and putting it on the curb. My feelings were I would rather give it away than sell it for next to nothing – somewhat of a cut-off-your-nose-to-spite-your-face mentality.

We just had the most successful garage sale ever and I think we have had four in the last four years. Of course it helped we had numerous electronic items such as laptops, cell phones, dvd player, vhs player, etc… and I sold a firearm for dirt cheap (didn’t really know what it was worth until I sold it). The bigger items aside we sold all the other stuff for anywhere from fifty cents to three dollars. We started out with about five boxes of stuff and were left with two small boxes for Goodwill.

I don’t think I will be a garage sale convert having them every month, but making a hundred bucks off a bunch of useless stuff once a year is a hundred bucks in my pocket and probably much better payoff than writing off donations in my taxes.

Jack meets the “Cat-thing” aka Skunk

Believe it or not my beloved Boxer Jack Brody got sprayed by a skunk in our very own residential backyard. First it was fish in the grass and now a skunk – what next? Mountain Lions? Elephants and bears?

First of all to hear my husband tell this story is hilarious. He lets Jack out at about 1130 for his last-pee-of-the-night and he says Jack makes a bee line for the back wall west of our house (by the way we have an incredibly huge yard – our lot is ¼ acre). He chuckles to himself (my husband, not the dog) because he thinks Jack is chasing a lizard, but he has second thoughts and decides to walk out in the yard to investigate. My husband spots the “cat-thing”, known to us native Americans as a S-K-U-N-K, and yells for Jack to come to him, but it’s too late. Jack comes running to my husband frothing at the mouth. At this point my husband believes Jack is dying and comes to get me (I am asleep at this time) yelling “Jack just got sprayed by the cat-thing and is foaming in his mouth you better come out here!” Of course I am wondering after being awoken from a deep sleep what the heck is a cat-thing? Once I learned he had been sprayed by a skunk we broke out the tomato sauce and cleaned Jack up the best we could. By the time we were done we smelled like skunk and so did our house.

The next morning the skunk smell was still ever present on our hands, on Jack and in our home so I sped off to the grocery store for eight large cans of tomato juice. Jack was given a fifteen minute bath in tomato juice turning his pretty white spots pink, but it worked. The smell was barely perceptible. If there is a moral to this story it would be don’t go in your backyard without a visual inspection for any wild animals or fish first.

Sick Mom Walking

I have been sick three times since fourth of July and each time my illness has lasted at least two weeks. First it was a very bad puking thing, then a respiratory thing with a two week wellness break and now here I am again with another respiratory thing. I am sick of being sick. Frankly, I believe these illnesses are related to the little guy’s school days – of course, he gets sick first then me. I think it is time to quarantine him from any and all other children. Okay thats a little extreme.

Right now (yes, at this very moment) I am slightly tachycardiac with lightheadedness thanks to Mucinex and it is kind of freaking me out. When am I going to learn all medications have side effects and perhaps the benefits are not worth the side business?  Although when one is ailing there is nothing like symptom relief.  It sure seems as the years tick by I get sick more frequently.  But it could be that now I have a little guy who comes in contact with lots of sick little people  who have germs.  Or Am I just on the downside of youth and from here on out it is respiratory illness and Depends?  Well if it is..... then getting old sucks.

Fish Tale Mystery Solved

Apparently hundreds of fish were killed in recent weeks when the neighborhood lake temperature rose to above 90°. According to the experts the ammonia level reached toxic limits with the high outside temperatures over 115 degrees. All the dead fish floated to the edge of the lake where they were washed ashore or “fished” out of the lake by people or animals. So it appears the most likely answer for the fish in our backyard is a cat picked it up (with its hands of course) and carried into said yard disproving my theory the fish walked there.

Where Do Old Electronics Go To Die?

What do you do with them? I pulled out my old Sony video camera I bought circa 1998 – it weighs about 5 lbs and is the size of a tonka truck. I don’t want to throw it away, but is selling it an option? Is it even worth more than $10? After some research I determine it is worth about $45 but after several weeks on craigslist.com its clear no one wants a twelve year old video camera. Apparently sony.com has a trade-in program for old electronics, but you won’t know what your item is worth until they receive it – minus shipping costs of course.

In addition to the Sony video camera I have a Minolta SLR which I rarely use due to the cost of having the film developed. It too is worth some money, roughly $100, but again after several weeks on craigslist.com I have had no interested buyers. It is rather sad because there must be some recyclable parts in these electronics but how do you get them to someone to recycle them? This is the same with used laptops and desktop computers. In the past we have tried to sell our outdated computers but to no avail. Of course, you may be thinking we are asking too much but that is not the case. I think people simply don’t want to buy used electronics because it is too risky.

When my phone was stolen we considered buying a used BlackBerry from craigslist.com but when it came down to buying a used phone for $150 we decided it was just too risky. Which brings me back to what do you do with old electronics? Donate them to charity? Throw them away? Sell them for dirt cheap at a garage sale? I don’t know the answer but when I figure it out I will let you know.

A Fish Tale

Would you believe we found a fish in our backyard? There we were pulling weeds at about 7 pm and my husband hears our son say “fish”. Low and behold there was a three inch fish lying in the grass. Needless to say we do not have a pond in our yard, but there is a small lake across the street. Could it be the fish walked across the street and climbed over our fence to die in our grass? Was it his life’s dream to go where the grass is greener? Probably not since fish don’t climb fences. We guess a bird flying over had it in its mouth and dropped it. Really, how else could it have got there? Either way it was a treat for the three year old to find it, hold it and toss it in the garbage. Now that I think about it ….maybe we should have buried it for the sake of recycling.

Bye Bye BlackBerry

On Friday, my brand new white BlackBerry Curve, only two weeks old, was stolen from the family changing room at the Awatukee YMCA (I know, I couldn’t believe it either – home of the perpetually rich and plastic). I don’t know what sucks more the fact I only had my new phone two weeks or could have prevented it from happening by taping it to my body (or putting a lock on the locker). Or maybe it sucks more I really wanted a white blackberry and in order to get one we had to buy the monthly data service for $25 a month and extend the contract another two years. So now I have a longer contract costing more money per month and no phone. To top it off I did not buy the insurance. The question is do I buy another phone for $232 ($132 more than I just paid), just use my old one or cancel the contract for $200 and sign up with a new company and get the phone for free?

Of course keeping the old phone brings me back to square one, having my old black Blackberry, but paying more money per month with a longer contract. Perhaps its karma. I didn’t really need a new phone since my old one worked just fine – I just wanted a white one. Getting the white one entailed many phone calls to T-Mobile arguing about why I had to buy the data service for the new BB when I have a BB currently with no data service. Apparently this is a new LAW with all mobile companies in an effort to recoup their financial losses – they require all smartphones to have the expensive monthly data service. Fortunately, when I presented T-mobile with my choices of canceling my contract for $200 or buying new phone for $232 they came through with a great offer of $157 for new phone (of course with contract extension). Now if that doesn’t create feelings of loyalty I don’t know what will!

What I don’t have anymore are feelings of trust. I bought a padlock and now I take it with me to the YMCA or leave my phone in the car. However, in Arizona that requires carrying some type of cooling device to keep expensive electronics from melting. I put my phone in a Ziplock bag inside a little ice chest which I used to keep my son’s car seat cool when we are not in the car and it has worked out great. And just in case the woman who stole my phone is reading this:  I am watching and waiting for you.  In conclusion, the moral of this story is trust no one – especially those rich people at the Awatukee YMCA.

Raising Children

I am convinced parents are the reasons their children are selfish. Who else could be at fault? We give and give and give and give thinking it is the right thing to do, but it is not. Of course, who can blame me or any parent– it is our culture here in America. Bend over backwards for your kids early on and stay in that position so they can properly thank you in their teenage years and beyond – that’s the American Way. While raising my oldest son I didn’t feel I gave him too much materially. Although looking back I suppose he did have a lot. His father definitely made up for what I didn’t give in terms of toys, fancy shoes and what not. And in true-to-those-who-get-too-much fashion my son destroyed, lost, or gave away the majority of things his Dad or I bought. He simply had too much, and therefore, it didn’t matter if he lost some of those things. It’s funny, but as a parent you want your children to have more than what you did. You want them to have all the things your parents couldn’t give you.

I believe now giving your child too much is doing them a disservice. I am going to give less from now on. Give less stuff, give less of my time and maybe even give less love (it doesn’t mean I don’t feel love the size of the universe for my children, but I am not going to show it). I am not going to be as available as I was the first time around. With my oldest I never missed a soccer or basketball game – a train couldn’t have stopped me from going. I should have missed a few games just to show him the world didn’t revolve around him. But he was an only child and I was a single mom trying to make up for the fact that I was the only parent. In doing so I gave too much and now my oldest thinks he doesn’t have to work hard for the good things in life. It should just come for free like everything else did – or at least it is what he believes. But I did him the disservice and now he has to undo it. I will be there for him while he figures it out – not all the time, but at least most of the time.

Three Cups of Tea

At first I was not impressed with the pace of the book or the writing style. I found myself reading and rereading run-on sentences trying to understand their meaning (could be related to my lack of state-of-mind). Once I got passed those little annoyances and focused on the message, or the essence of the book, I began to enjoy it.

The purpose of this post is not to critique, but to share what I enjoyed about the book. First and foremost, I think it was very inspirational and once again a demonstration of what one person can do to help thousands (ie… Mother Theresa). I admire Greg Mortenson for his perseverance and his ability to live so simply. I also admired his reason for building these schools -- not to teach American ideologies, religious or otherwise, but out of genuine desire to help. He built these schools not because he had a hidden agenda as so many foreigners do but because he wanted to give these people something they needed and requested. I also loved that Mr. Mortenson adapted himself to their way of life not expecting them to adapt for his – he respected the Pakistani people and they respected him.

There are so many quotable passages from the book, but one of my favorite is:

“The only way we can defeat terrorism is if people in this country where terrorists exist learn to respect and love Americans and if we can respect and love these people here. What’s the difference between them becoming a productive local citizen or a terrorist? I think the key is education.”

Mr. Mortenson stated this for an interview after 9-11 when many of the local people were being forced to flee their homes with no assistance from the US as promised. This message of this book seems appropriate especially now as Afghanistan is supposedly poised to take the reins of their government back, yet are still sustaining casualties by those who promised to help them.

Greg Mortenson demonstrates a very in-depth knowledge of the Pakistani people and their ways of life. I think this book should be read by every American so they may be enlightened about the peoples of these regions and their hospitality toward those who care.  I really liked this book and I am looking forward to reading his next one Stones into Schools.