Halloween Decorations

So over the weekend I decided that it was time to get the Halloween decorations out.

Granted, we don't have a lot. I wish I could put stuff on the outside of the house--like a scarecrow, pumpkins, things like that. But the harsh Wyoming Winds would blow them away.

I know this because I had this adorable Christmas stake outside last year. I figured if I got it into the ground enough that it would be okay.

Nope.

The wind snapped it in half and I was crushed.

"MY STAKE!" I shrieked when I saw the remnants in our yard.

"I told you not to put that outside," Tom gloated.

So all the decorations have to remain inside. Well, minus our doormat which so far has been okay from the winds.

First I decorated the table:



With Halloween napkins to boot!

And our door:



Here's the Haunted House that Tom just had to have last year. It lights up and makes noises and everything:



And our doormat:



There are some other things sprinkled around the house too.

Tommy was excited to see everything out.

"Is it Halloween tomorrow?" he asked hopefully.

I explained that he still had a few weeks.

So anyhow, this morning I went to Target. No reason, really. Just because Target rocks and all.

Actually I did need something. Deoderant as I'm running dangerously low. I suppose if worse came to worse I could put Tom's Old Spice on but I'd rather not smell like a dude if it's all the same.

So off to Target Natalie and I went.

Our first stop was the Dollar Spot.

Okay fine, I admit it, I bribe my daughter. When we first enter the store she gets to pick out a $1.00 toy. I figure I can fork out a buck for my sanity. And yes, Supernanny Jo Frost would probably gasp and wag her finger at me and be all, "Am-bah! You mustn't bribe children. They are supposed to behave because they know it's the proper way to act. Shame on you."

And then I'd hang my head and mutter that I was sorry and Jo would say all importantly, "Don't say sorry to me. Say sorry to your children for bribing them."

But of course when I did apologize to them they'd be all, "Um? Why are you apologizing for GIVING US STUFF??!!"

Sorry Jo Frost. But Natalie will continue to get a Dollar Spot toy.

For my sanity.

Natalie picked out a creepy looking plush toy and deemed it her "bebe."

(Even though I tried in vain to get her to want the Jim from The Office stress ball head. Mmm Jim. Such a nice man to look at. But she was not interested. She wanted the creepy looking plush toy.)

Of course then she bit his head.

Or her? It was pink. I dunno.

Then we headed on our way. I did find a helmet for 75% off for Tommy. He always needs helmets. The boy is rough.

I also found some bathroom stuff for 75% off. I bought two tissue holders for like two bucks each. And a new shower curtain for our bathroom because ours is cheap. And vinyl. *Shudders* And this shower curtain was originally twenty something bucks (who would pay twenty something bucks for a SHOWER CURTAIN??) and I got it for six.

Love Target. Love their deals.

Of course I nearly forgot to pick up the one thing that I came into Target for.

The deoderant.

I was heading for checkout and then I remember, hello, the deoderant! Remember, you don't want to smell like a dude!

So I turned the cart around and headed for the deoderant aisle.

And was immediately confused.

There are so many different deoderants.

Look, the only thing I want is not to reek like BO.

I don't need to smell like a peach. Or a flower. Or...apple citrus? Huh? What?

I decided to go with Secret Deoderant because that's what I've been using for years.

But Secret is confusing.

They have deoderants called Scent Expressions.

With scents such as English Bloom, French Lavender, Brazilian Cherry, Artic Apple, Vanilla Chai..

Huh?

Just HUH?

I stared dumbly at all the deoderants and then decided I better get to smelling.

So I'd open one.

Sniff.

Open another.

Sniff.

After awhile my nose was beginning to grow annoyed.

Just pick out the damn deoderant! I'm tired of breathing in shit!

Oh.

Sorry.

I decided on French Lavender. Probably because I'm reading a book called The Other Queen and it spoke of lavender scented sheets. I have lavender embedded in my head. And isn't lavender supposed to be a stress releaser? So maybe if I have it under my pits I'll be less stressed...

Then I went to check out which was right in time because Natalie was starting to get impatient.

Later today I have to go to Tommy's yearly IEP meeting. It's always a little nervewracking to walk into a room stuffed with teachers at first. Including the principal usually. Sometimes. If she's available.

I hope Natalie behaves. I have to take her with me because even though it's Tom's day off, he has to go into the office to help a troop with paperwork.

*Le sigh*

Ahh well.

Natalie does look adorable today at least:

Parent Information Night

Just an FYI: The new show The Mentalist is really good.

I caught it last night and enjoyed it.

Anyhow I keep forgetting to write about Parent Information Night at the school last week.

I decided to go even though Tom worked. Of course. He never seems to be off on the nights that I really need him.

So we drove to the school and when we walked in both the Girl Scouts and Cub Scouts were set up recruiting new members. I held my breath as Tommy walked past.

Please don't be interested...

I mean I think Cub Scouts are a good thing but it would mean I'd have to CONVERSE with other people on a weekly basis and SELL crap. No thank you.

I have always said that if Tommy wanted to join that I'd let him.

But thankfully he's not interested.

Phew.

There was a room set up to drop off the children so the parents could sit through the assembly in peace.

I thought it was just for children three and up but when I entered two of the volunteers to watch the kids came up and held out their arms for Natalie.

"Oh," I said, startled. "I thought this was just for older kids?"

"We'll take the baby. She's so cute!" one of the women said. Her arms were still outstretched. Natalie dug her fingernails into my shoulder and looked away.

I'm not going with you, Crazy Stranger Lady!

"Well," I said in what I hoped was a polite tone. "I don't think she's going to let me leave her."

I tried to set her down but she had such a grip on my shirt that I felt if I pushed it, she'd expose my ugly nursing bra to the entire room. So I put her back on my hip.

At that moment another woman with a baby around Natalie's age walked in. She just easily set the baby down, the baby toddled over to a bunch of blocks, the woman said thank you and left.

And the baby didn't even CARE! She just continued playing with the blocks.

Maybe she was a daycare baby? I dunno.

I pointed that baby out to Natalie. SHE didn't have to know that she was a daycare baby and was used to being without her mother.

"Look Natalie? Another baby. She's playing with blocks. Do you want to play with blocks?"

Natalie actually looked mildly interested. In fact she allowed me to set her down. Though she held onto my fingers to the point where I felt like she'd cut off circulation. Then she all of a sudden got brave, ran up to the other baby, whispered HI and then ran back to me. She gripped onto my leg roughly.

"Natalie doesn't like you," Tommy told the volunteers seriously. "She's gonna cry if Mommy goes."

I shot Tommy a Look. "Tommy," I chastised. "She likes them fine. She's just not used to Mommy leaving."

"She's gonna CRY," Tommy repeated knowingly.

I tried to walk but couldn't because Natalie seemed to be permanently attached to my leg.

"Um," I said. "I think I'll just take her with me."

I started to turn and head for the door with her still holding on for dear life.

But she let me go and ran up to a teenage volunteer who was helping the adults with all the kids.

"Hi," Natalie said boldly and then went off to explore the room.

"I think you're safe," one of the adult volunteers whispered. "Go ahead. If she cries we'll come get you."

I nodded and rushed out. I waited by the door for a few seconds to make sure I didn't hear Natalie's cries.

I didn't.

However there was a Mom who tried to drop off her little boy who looked to be about three and he wasn't having it.

"I WON'T go in this room. I WON'T. AND YOU CAN'T MAKE ME!"

Sheesh.

Needless to say, that little boy went to the assembly with his mother.

I decided that I ought to head down to find a seat. I sat down by the door in case they came in with Natalie.

A few kids did have to be returned to their parents. One little boy was crying so hard that he seemed to be struggling to breathe.

"I. Want. My. Mooommm...Moooooooommmmeeeeeee!"

Basically the assembly went over what the school expected from the parents and what the parents could expect from the school.

The principal was giving the speech and she was talking about how the children needed to learn respect. She had a little slide show going nad when a picture of a toilet popped up on the screen I let out a snort of laughter.

"The children need to learn respect in the bathrooms as well. We sometimes have kids that like to peak under the stalls and that just won't be tolerated," the principal said.

I giggle escaped my lips. I pictured tiny students squatting down and looking up under the stall going, "Hello? Are you making a number one or a number two.."

For some reason I found this hilarious and had to cover my mouth to keep from laughing even louder.

Yes folks, I am 26.

But apparently potty talk still amuses me.

Then the principal talked about joining the PTO.

No thank you.

Just...

No thank you.

I know some people are all, "Aww why not join?"

Uh. Because I know it can turn into a big drama fest with grown adults whining over tiny things and I don't have the patience for it. I deal with a husband and two kids at home and that's quite enough drama for me.

After the assembly was over we were told to head to our child's classroom to learn about what the teachers expected from us.

I walked past the childcare room and Natalie was in the teenager's arms staring right out while sucking her thumb.

So she saw me and immediately outstretched her arms.

So I had to get her.

I asked Tommy if he wanted to come or stay and he said he wanted to come.

So down to his classroom we went. He found his seat and showed me his pencil box with all his stuff inside.

"These are my crayons. My pencils. My eraser," he said seriously.

"They're awesome," I said, feigning like I had never seen them before in my life. (Even though it was me who purchased all of those items. But whatevs.)

The teacher started talking about homework and tests and things like that. I was somewhat distracted because Natalie did not want to sit on my lap. She kept struggling to break free so she could explore the room. I mean in all fairness, it was an appealing room for a small child. It was brightly lit with cute little decals on the wall and interesting books in the corner.

I started digging in my purse while the teacher explained that homework was due on Thursday.

"Here. Mommy's phone," I hissed at Natalie, placing the cell phone in her palm.

She opened it and pressed buttons. "A cat? A CAT?" she said loudly, pointing to my display picture.

"Shhh. Yes a cat," I said softly, hoping she'd take notice of my QUIET voice and follow suit.

Then she got bored of the phone and tried to break away.

"Here. Mommy's keys," I hissed and handed them to her.

She found the DisneyWorld keychain and stared at the castle.

"What IS that? What IS that?" she said.

"A castle," I whispered.

Then she got bored of the keys and I had to find something else.

"Here. A coupon. Fifty cents off Tide. Don't lose that. Mommy needs it," I said, passing it over.

Natalie flipped the paper around her fingers. But then grew bored of that and tried to break free. Again.

*Le sigh*

Thankfully the teacher was finished at that point so we could go. I did ask the teacher if Tommy had been doing well.

And he is!

No crying.

Phew.

When that was over we stopped in the Book Fair. The plan was to get two books. One on Transformers and one on plants.

Well that changed.

We ended up with these:



Natalie picked out that pink book. Seriously. I was looking at another book and she reached out and grabbed it and would not let go.

And then when that was over we went home.

You know that Monster Truck book? You had to put together this Monster Truck and it was a PAIN in my ASS. I nearly threw it across the room. Sometimes boy toys seriously upset me.

My Different Children

You know, it really is marveling that two children who came from uterus are completely different.

For some reason I had it in my head that Natalie would be like a carbon copy of Tommy. Which meant that she'd be an easy going baby who would sleep wherever I placed her.

Hah.

A big hah.

For starters, Natalie would not allow anyone to put her down when she was a newborn.

If you tried to put her down, even if she was in a deep sleep, her eyes would suddenly snap open and she'd scream in horror.

And what did my boy Tommy do?

Oh, he'd happily sleep in his crib right from the start. Only cried when he wanted something.

"You know your second baby won't be like that," everyone warned me.

I didn't believe them.

I remember worrying constantly over Tommy. I mean I was 19 when I had him, I didn't quite know what I was doing. And then when he turned two and he was barely saying a word I was in a sheer panic. I had assumed it was something that I had done wrong. Should I have read to him more? Talked to him more? Brought him to museums?

The speech therapist started coming to the house when he was two.

"It's best to start when they're small," I was told.

I agreed.

And the speech therapist would try in vain to get Tommy to speak. One word she was really working on?

More.

She taught him how to sign more and she kept trying to get him to say it.

"Tommy," she'd say as I sat on the floor beside her. "Say more. MOOOORREEEE." She stretched out the letters and pointed to her mouth as she said it. Then she did the sign for more. "More," she repeated, also signing it.

And because I felt awkward just sitting there, I also signed the word more and said the word.

Tommy stared at us as though we were complete idiots.

She'd bring out books and would try to get him to identify what was in it.

"Look Tommy. A cat. CAAAATTTT," the speech therpist would go.

And Tommy, well, he'd grow bored and run off to his toys.

"Maybe there is something else going on with him," the speech therapist finally said during one session when Tommy darted off and staring running laps around us while flapping his hands.

Something else?

I had stared her her dumbly.

I mean I just thought he was speech delayed. I didn't think it was SOMETHING ELSE.

Of course I typed in speech delays in the search engines.

And was horrified with what popped up.

Verbal apraxia.

Autism.

Mental Retardation.

I joined various online groups for people who had children with speech delays.

I felt better knowing I wasn't alone.

But a lot of those children got better. They started speaking normally at the age of three or four while my son struggled to put words together.

I had him tested for autism.

He doesn't have it, the doctor said. He's too social.

I was at a loss. He was able to start preschool at three.

I received a lot of phone calls.

Tommy won't sit still during circle time. His speech is below average. Really below.

Mrs. M****? Tommy still won't sit during circle time. In fact today he started dancing on a chair...

Fast forward to Kindergarten. Still speech delayed. But better. I stupidly thought that the worst was behind me.

Nope.

Then the phone calls began again.

Mrs. M****? Is something happening at home? Because Tommy won't stop crying..

And meeting after meeting.

Because of his crying he would go to the principal's office if he got worked up.

A five year old already in the principal's office.

Then they suggested that he only go to school for a half day.

"Perhaps all day is too much for him," the teachers said gently.

Then they said he could try a full day but he'd go in the resource room most of the time.

It's a smaller environment. I think it's too much for him to handle being in a room with 21 other students...

But good news popped in through the cracks.

Tommy is actually understanding how to handle time better than my first graders. He sits in while I teach first graders sometimes and he's getting it...

Tommy is my favorite little boy ever. He loves to learn.

Of course more not so good news sprinkled in.

I tested Tommy for autism and it shows that he's most likely to have it. Obviously this isn't an official diagnosis but from everything I've gathered it looks to be like he has it...he shows a lot of mannerisms..

Mercifully he passed Kindergarten. To be honest I wasn't expecting it. I cringed when I saw his report card in his backpack. I pulled it out, taking deep breaths.

Don't cry if it shows that he hasn't moved on to first grade..

I pulled the papers from the envelope and flipped through the back. Where it showed the grade that he'd attend next year.

First Grade it said in bold dark letters.

He passed.

I looked through the other pages. He was average in almost everything except for speech obviously. And following directions. And managing feelings.

So far, Tommy is doing well in first grade. Though he tells me that it's hard and sometimes he can't get his brain to work right.

I ask him sometimes what it was like when he was little and he couldn't talk.

And Tommy told me, "Remember when I needed to say more? MOOOREEEE!!," Tommy said, stretching his mouth out like the speech therapist had done years before.

I remember when he finally had said the word.

I think it was a few months after the speech therapist started coming?

He just all of a sudden came over to me and signed more.

"MORE!" I shrieked. "MORE! You DID it!" And I gathered him in my arms while he laughed and muttered, "Moreeeee.."

Tommy is still behind in his speech. But he's getting there. He'll probably always be awkward and it worries me because children are cruel. He struggles to catch a ball--just the other day some kids were outside playing basketball and allowed him to join. But when someone tossed him the ball he dropped it and it went thunking down the street.

"I can't DO it!" I heard him shriek.

So I tell him every day that he CAN do anything that he wants. That he just has to try.

And what about Natalie?

Well, she started saying the word more when she turned a year old.

It made me smile because I remember how hard we tried to get Tommy to say the word.

And here was this one-year-old who said it effortlessly while pointing to the chocolate I was eating.

"MOREEE! MORE!" she said firmly.

Do I think Natalie will have a speech delay? She could.

But right now she seems to be right on schedule.

And just this morning she told me, "Ball? Ball? Come.." because she wanted me to follow her and get her ball which she had tossed in the catbox.

(Eww. Thank goodness I had just cleaned it.)

In a way I'm glad that Tommy struggled. As silly as it sounds. Because it helped me appreciate things more.

If Tommy had talked on schedule then I doubt I'd have marveled over the fact that Natalie said more so easily.

Or I don't think I'd have teared up when Natalie instructs me to do things.

So I'm grateful that I have two very different children.

I have a boy who can follow instructions on how to build a Lego car. While I still can't comprehend how to do it:



And I have a girl, who isn't afraid to tell me what she wants:



----

I do have the Puppy Chow recipe. I've no idea why it's called Puppy Chow. Jennifer introduced me to it and called it Puppy Chow so that's what I call it.

INGREDIENTS
1/2 cup butter
1 cup creamy peanut butter
2 cups milk chocolate chips
1 (17.5 ounce) package crispy corn or rice cereal
1 pound powdered sugar

DIRECTIONS

1. Melt peanut butter with butter and chocolate chips over stovetop. Lay out cereal on cookie sheet. Pour chocolate mixture over cereal and mix. (You will get dirty.)

2. Place coated cereal in a large plastic bag and add the powdered sugar. Close bag and then shake to coat.

Delicious! But warning, it's addicting.

Puppy Chow Goodness

My weekend was incredibly boring. I flipped through the television channels and thought the same thing:

Just how many times is E! going to air Ever After?

And

How many times is MTV going to show America's Next Top Model?

I also thought,

Holy crap these children have a lot of clothes. I think I need to go on a clothing break for awhile.

So I'm going to not buy clothes until Gymbuck Redemption.

And okay, Gymbuck Redemption is next week but still. Can I do it? Even though Gap has some ultra cute clothes? And oh oh, look at that precious dress on the Gymboree website! Natalie would look PRECIOUS in it.

No.

No Amber.

So I removed my entire eBay watch list. Four pages full. Of course I don't WIN all of those. No, most of the time I delete if the price goes too high. Or if someone outbids me at the last minute and then I shoot the winning bidder the finger in front of the monitor and may or may not mutter, "Well f*ck YOU last second bidder!"

I told Tom that I was on a break.

(Which totally reminded me of Friends and I pictured Ross screaming, "WE WERE ON A BREAAAAAAAKKK!!!" Tee hee.)

"From what?" he asked, eyes glued to the television screen.

Of course he was watching another WW2 program. They make a lot of those. In black and white. In color. In black and white AND color. The narrator drones on about P-32s and B-17s and Hitler and an hour program can feel like three hours.

"From buying the kids clothes," I replied.

I thought he'd be impressed. I mean wasn't he the one whose jaw dropped open slightly when he peeked into Natalie's closet and asked how many little girls I thought we HAD since surely Natalie wouldn't get to all those things before outgrowing them...

Instead he just gave a non-commital, "Mmmm" sound.

Remind me to make that same sound when he asks for sex. See how HE likes it.

"I'm serious," I told Tom firmly, moving in front of the television screen. He gave a small sigh and raised his eyes up to the Heavens. "No clothes shopping for Amber. I'm done. Well, until next week."

Tom snorted. "Wow. Go Amber," he said sarcastically.

"Hey," I retorted. "That's probably a RECORD for me, Tom."

"Okay," Tom said with a shrug. He craned his neck around me which signaled that the conversation was through.

Rude.

But I can do it.

Today I need to drop off an ad for Natalie's exersaucer. I'm selling it even though it will be difficult. I grow attached to things, you see. There's already one toy that I realized that I cannot sell. That Leap Frog Activity Table? It was Tommy's as a baby. Now Natalie plays with it. And I just can't see myself selling it when she outgrows it. I've no idea why.

Tom was all, "Amber, it's just a hunk of plastic that makes annoying sounds!"

No it's not. It's a toy my little boy played with. And now Natalie. Well, she really just likes climbing on it and standing up and saying, "Hi" Then she'll start to whimper as one of the toys on top digs into her feet and will begin to freak out and make it seem like it was YOUR FAULT that she got hurt in the first place even though you've told her A BILLION TIMES not to climb on top.

I also need to stop eating the Puppy Chow that I made last night to distract me from the new line that was popping up on Gymboree.com.

Puppy Chow is a delicious blend of Chex cereal, milk chocolate chips, peanut butter, regular butter and a bunch of powdered sugar.

I made a huge bag and half of it is gone. You don't realize how fast it goes when the bag is sitting on your lap and you're just mindlessly inhaling the delicious treats while watching the latest episode of Army Wives.

Which, oh my gosh, is getting really good.

But this no clothes buying thing is going to make me FAT if I don't cut it out.

But I'm the only one who likes Puppy Chow.

Tom said it looked WEIRD and he won't even try it. He watched me make it and wrinkled his nose and went, "No thanks," when I offered him a try.

Tommy took a small bite and deemed it to "taste weird."

Natalie just breaks it apart in her palm and then throws the crumbs around which means that I have to lug out our Dyson vacuum for the 3rd time of the day so she doesn't get it into the carpet.

Someone needs to hide the Puppy Chow from me.

Seriously.

(She types as she munches on more Puppy Chow.)

Scary Alien Shows

Whew.

I have more time to write now.

Which means there will be PRONOUNS in my entry. Hooray for pronouns!

The bad news is I'm totally PMSing and I feel like I'm going to eat all the food in the house. I feel like I'm on the Michael Phelps diet or something and have to remind myself that hello, you're not a swimmer so put that second eclair down!

So anyhow, the other night Tom had to go to a going away party for one of his co-workers.

What did I do?

I started watching this program about UFOs and aliens.

Big mistake.

I don't know why I haven't learned by now that I am not to watch programs like that alone.

I remember watching Unsolved Mysteries in my dorm room when no one else was there and freaking myself out.

The show was interesting though. I believe in aliens.

Of course I started to believe that an alien was going to walk into the house and abduct me.

Tom returned home in the middle of the show and I breathed a sigh of relief.

"Oh good. I was freaking myself out," I told Tom.

He started to watch the show. He doesn't believe in aliens.

"A man on the show says that we're being egotistical if we think we're the only beings out there," I said with a sharp nod.

Tom made a face as he pulled off his shoes. "Then I guess I'm egotistical because I don't believe in aliens."

Then I started to watch as retired military members started talking about the UFOs they had seen and my eyes flicked suspiciously over to Tom.

"Tom," I said. "When you joined the Air Force were you briefed about UFOs? Did they tell you they exist but that you're not allowed to tell? I promise I won't tell anyone. Just, I don't know, WINK at me if you were briefed okay? That way you didn't technically tell me. Okay? So here we go Tom: do UFOs exist? Were you briefed?"

I stared at his eye expectantly.

But it did nothing. Tom just stared at me as though I were completely insane and went, "Amber. Even if I WAS briefed I couldn't tell you a thing. You know that."

Well hmph.

I'm ONLY his wife.

The woman who birthed TWO of his children.

The woman who gave him an HEIR.

I even said that last bit and he shook his head. "You really need to stop reading those King Henry books," he said.

"I just feel like I'm privy to the information," I fumed.

Tom raised an eyebrow. "PRIVY? The heck?"

He's always amused on some of the words that I use. When we first started dating he nearly keeled over with laughter when I informed him seriously that I was "parched."

He thought I made up the word.

"It's a word, Tom," I said. "It means to be thirsty."

I had to show it to him in a dictionary before he believed me.

And now it's a part of his vocabulary. Just the other day he went, "I'm parched!"

Of course I was still all freaked out about aliens when I went to bed. I kept thinking of those aliens in Signs and swore one was going to morph in front of me. Morph because, well, they're aliens and they have that technology.

I eventually drifted off to sleep but vowed never to watch a show like that alone again.

But just watch. I probably will. Because I'll talk myself into it and be all, "Oh well it'll be okay. You're older now. This sort of thing isn't scary anymore.."

But it IS. It always will be. Get that through your thick skull, Amber.

I have some pictures to share.

The Simple Entry

Am finally getting on.

Tom hogged computer most of the day. I asked him to get off and he was all, "I hung up pictures in bedroom!" as though that made it okay to hog computer.

Want to know what all I did in the house?

Changed diapers
Did dishes
Mopped floor
Made school lunch
Used Mr.Clean Magic eraser to get off weird residue on wall
Did MORE dishes
Did cat box
Fed cat who behaved as though he were starving even though had just been fed a few hours before
Fed baby
Changed more diapers (one of which nearly brought the house down with its scent)

So if anyone deserves to be online, it's me.

Then Tom went, "Want to decorate house for Halloween. Let's go to Wal-Mart and get decorations!"

Which makes no sense.

Reminded Tom that he just made a fuss over hanging a few PICTURES in our bedroom and now he wants to decorate house for Halloween??

"Didn't want to hang up pictures in bedroom," Tom explained. "But WANT to decorate house for Halloween. See the difference?"

Men make no sense. They say that women are nuts but it's men who are the baffling creatures.

So we headed to Wal-Mart.

Was confused when frosted sugar cookies wound up in cart. How did they get there? Am trying to watch what I eat.

In middle of Wal-Mart get a phone call from school.

Figure Tommy is crying.

Nope.

Tommy peed his pants.

"Doesn't he know to use the bathroom by now?" Tom grumbled when I said we had to go to the school to bring him a change of clothes.

Feel embarrassed to have six-year-old who wet his pants.

We rush through Halloween section. Tom didn't find anything right.

"Have to go to Micheal's," he insists. "Micheal's has more of a selection to decorate."

"Will go to Micheal's this weekend. Must get to Tommy. Is sitting in his own filth!" I shouted.

So we rush home.

I grab new clothes.

Rush back to school.

The school secretary knows me well. Was around for all of Tommy's antics last year. Smiles as though we're old friends and kindly tells me that Tommy is waiting in nurses office.

Find Tommy happily sitting there eating his lunch as it's lunch time.

"I brought clean clothes," I tell him, waving bag in the air.

"I'm okay," he said simply as though it were normal to sit in urine.

"No. You need a change," I insisted.

I thanked the nurse who said we could use the bathroom attached to room.

We walk in room. I ask Tommy why he wet his pants.

"I wanted quiet," he said simply.

Makes a little sense. Lunch room is filled with all sorts of noises. Grades Kindergarten through sixth grade all in there and it can get very very loud. For a kid with sensory processing disorder I imagine it's too much.

Feel strange thinking Tommy is a rather smart boy for pissing his pants in order to get quiet. He must've thought, "I need quiet, I'll go pee in my undies and WA-LAH quiet!"

But cannot have him make a habit out of it.

Explain that if he needs to go, to let teacher know.

He promises that he will.

Hope so. Does not want Tommy to be mocked for wetting his pants in the first grade.

(But try to feel a little better. At least it's pee and not poop.)

Nurse says that I can bring Tommy to cafeteria to join his class.

I do that.

When Tommy takes a seat one of his girl classmates told me seriously, "Tommy wet his pants. And smelled. Bad."

Explain that it was an accident and accidents happen.

"Not to ME," she told me primly.

Little witch.

Say goodbye to Tommy. He just waved and pretended as though nothing has happened.

When I got back in truck Tom was all, "Am hungry. Am going to Sonic!"

Remind Tom of food at home.

"Don't want that. Want cherry coke and a chicken wrap."

Of course I have no willpower and find myself with a diet cherry coke and a coney dog.

Then after Natalie went down for nap I went to grocery store. Bought a lot of stuff.

Was shocked when total was $160!

Nearly pissed my OWN pants.

But bought a lot of stuff because am going to try and cook more at home. We eat out too much.

Informed Tom of this when he saw all the bags in the trunk.

"Did you buy the entire store?" he asked.

"Am going to cook more. We eat out too much," I said firmly.

Tom just rolled his eyes. He's heard it before. I will try to cook and then get fed up and be all, "Am tired of this. Let's go to McDonalds." Life too short to spend it in kitchen.

Also bought Hershey Bliss candies. Am PMSing and either want sweet stuff. Or salty stuff.

(Also bought potato chips to take care of salty cravings.)

For dinner tonight am just having leftover pizza.

Tomorrow is Parent Information Night at school and figure I'll go. Afterwards is a Book Fair and I love books. Even if they aren't for me. Told Tommy he can pick out one.

"Want book on Transformers and plants," he said.

Maybe will allow two then.

Tommy likes to inform me that plants need sunlight. Wants to grow his own flowers. Wants to know why we don't have flowers in house.

"Mommy would kill flowers on accident," I said.

Mommy has a black thumb. Not a green thumb. Sorry.

"Mommy," Tommy said all exasperated. "You just need to water flower and put it in sunlight!"

Makes it sound so easy. But always forget to water flowers.

Would probably forget to feed own children if they didn't have a healthy set of lungs.

Need to go finish putting groceries away. Was hoping Tom would do it as I did the grocery shopping. He spotted some Crunch N Munch and happily retrieved that from bag and calmly stepped over all the other bags and went to go eat snack on couch.

Sometimes wonder if he's blind.

Aren't The Pictures Nice?

Bad news for my friend Jennifer. (I met her while stationed in England. She's in Ohio now.)

Her power is OUT.

And has been since Sunday thanks to Hurricane Ike.

She called to let me know that the power was STILL out and probably won't be back up until Saturday.

Poor Jennifer. She also said she had to throw out all her food from the fridge/freezer as it had gone bad.

Hopefully the power will be back up before Saturday. Because I can't even imagine what life would be like without power for so long. I suppose I'd pretend to be back in the Tudor era or something. But Tom wouldn't play along so it wouldn't be any fun.

Speaking of Tom, I had him hang up some pictures last night. I have him do it because no matter what I do, pictures always end up crooked. Plus these pictures were the kind that you needed a leveler to put up. And the leveler hates me. Trust me. It just does. I've tried many times to befriend the thing but it refuses and taunts me by making my picture frames crooked. Then it mocks me, from its place in the laundry room corner whenever I put clothes in the wash.

Haha. Another crooked picture for Amber.

So yes, I begged Tom to do it. And Tom, who prefers to just lounge around and do absolutely nothing on his days off looked somewhat annoyed when I brought it up. He knew something was up when I plopped on his lap and batted my eyelashes at him.

"Okay," he said. "What do you want?"

I nuzzled his neck. "Can't a gal just say hello to her husband?"

Tom just raised an eyebrow at me.

"The pictures," I reminded him. "I'd like those pictures to be hung up. You know the leveler hates me and.."

Tom rolled his eyes. "The leveler doesn't HATE you. It's really easy. You get a pencil and mark the areas where it shows that it's level. Then you hammer in a nail." He shrugged if this were the easiest thing ever.

I just batted my eyelashes at him again.

"Oh. FINE," Tom said, exasperated. Because after all the Family Guy episode that he was watching was one that he had seen, oh, a billion times before.

I jumped up and clapped my hands.

He gathered the pictures and the dreaded (mean) leveler and we headed upstairs.

Before the pictures I had wording that you could peel onto the wall.

Now, I tried to get some of this before. I found one at Target that read, "Always kiss me goodnight," and I loved it. But when I went to stick it on the wall I did it all wrong.

"You did it all wrong," Tom informed me as I stepped back to examine my work.

He was right.

The letters were peeling off and many were crooked.

So this time I had Tom do it.

"Is it straight?" he asked me from his spot on the bed.

"Yes," I said but with a question in my voice. I mean it LOOKED straight but in a way it didn't.

Tom sighed loudly. "Is it straight or not?"

"Yes?"

He sighed again and jumped off the bed and stomped over to where I was. He peered at the wording.

"It's NOT straight, Amber," he said.

Okay so in a way I knew that but I didn't want to say it wasn't straight and have him be all cranky about it. It had looked straight enough for my liking after all.

So Tom fixed it.

Then came the pictures.

I started staring off into space. Going into my own world. I shouldn't be surprised when teachers tell me that Tommy seems to be in his own world sometimes. Because I certainly do the same. I started thinking about the peacoat I had ordered from Old Navy. I hoped that a size small was the right size for me. I didn't want it too tight after all. But I didn't want to get a medium and have it be falling off of me. And would a peacoat look silly, as though I were trying to be a fashionista or something? I hope not. I hope..

"AMBER!" Tom shouted, cutting into my thoughts. "I need the pencil to make my mark!"

He looked downright pissed.

"Oh," I said, all flustered. I found the pencil on the bed and handed it up to him. "Sorry. I was just..."

But he wasn't paying attention. He was busy making his mark.

And then Natalie got insulted because she wanted on the bed and I wouldn't let her.

So she fussed.

Then Tommy walked in all bent out of shape because he couldn't get his Transformer to morph back.

Let me just say that I HATE Transformers. The toy I mean. Because some are impossible to transform back. Or maybe I'm just downright stupid. I look at the instructions and I find I'm confused as hell and I try to twist the plastic pieces into place and it DOESN'T WORK.

So I took the toy from Tommy and tried to get it back into policecar form.

And it wasn't working!

"I don't know," I said to Tommy, handing it back.

"HELP ME!" he said all dramatically.

"Is it straight?" Tom's voice cut in.

I looked.

"Yes," I said. I mean it looked pretty straight.

Tom stared at me for a few seconds as though trying to figure out if he should trust me.

He didn't.

He jumped off the bed and looked.

"It's NOT straight!"

Oh.

Well.

It looked pretty straight to me.

"I.NEED.HELP.WITH.MY.TRANSFORMER!" Tommy shouted.

"WAHHHH!" Natalie added, wanting desperately on the bed.

I took the Transformer back. Surely a 26-year-old woman could figure out a TOY for heavens sake.

Uh.

No.

This 26-year-old woman could not.

"Done," Tom announced as I struggled with the toy.

I think he was insulted that I didn't clap with joy. Because I was too busy trying to transform the PIECE OF CRAP toy.

"Hello? I'm DONE. You're welcome," Tom said, all annoyed.

"Why won't this go back into the CAR!" I shrieked, twisting a piece that was a leg but was meant to be the hood of the car. Or maybe the door? I don't know.

"Let me," Tom boomed, taking the horrible thing away from me. He twisted and turned a few pieces effortlessly and it was back in car form.

Oh.

"Now," Tom said, handing the toy back to a grateful Tommy. "What do you think?" He gestured to his work as though he were some famous artist or something.

"I like it. Thank you," I said.



I do like it. I bought it all at Lakeside.com.

Although I find it ironic that one of the signs reads "Kindness Matters" and Tom was anything BUT kind when he was hanging them up.

This is why I hate putting things together with him. He's just so dang CRANKY.

I also bought this at Lakeside:




It amuses me.

Of course when I woke up this morning I found this:



Tom just left his popcicle stick sitting there on my beautiful coasters.

When the trash is like, I don't know, less than fifteen feet away?!

It makes no sense to me.

However, I did notice that he did the dishes:



So I forgave him for the popcicle stick.

Although I still don't understand why he couldn't have walked a few steps and dropped it in the trash.

Where Did The Baby Go?

Okay so this morning I had a bit of a fright.

I woke up from my morning nap--trust me, I need it in order to be pleasant for the day. I wake up early to get Tommy off to school and then Natalie and I head upstairs for an hour morning nap. Granted Natalie doesn't always sleep right away. I'll hear her playing in her crib and be thankful that she's learned to entertain herself.

Anyhow I woke up from my morning nap and went in to retrieve Natalie like usual. I walked in and went to the crib.

Her toys were strewn all over the mattress. She sleeps with a variety of toys: Elmo, a few books, a dolly, a musical phone, a caterpilliar that tinkles out classical music and annoying songs about bugs and such...usually I find Natalie curled up at the end of the crib or something. Eventually she tires herself out and drifts off to sleep, you see.

But, after peering into the crib for a few seconds I realized with horror that she wasn't there.

It must've been a delayed reaction, I don't know. Because all I did was blink in confusion at the Natalie-less crib as though I expected her to suddenly morph on her mattress in front of me. But she didn't.

She was gone.

And suddenly my blood ran cold and my mouth began to open, ready to emit the loudest scream that I probably would have ever been cast from my mouth.

But then, in the corner of my eye, I saw a small pink bundle.

My eyes swiveled over and there she was.

Natalie.

My Natalie. On her stomach, all balled up on her large Tickle-Me-Elmo's lap.

I suppose my emotions caught up with me because I suddenly yelled, "Oh my GOD!" and scooped her into my arms.

Natalie was none to pleased to be awoken in such a manner. Her eyes blinked open in surprise and she looked downright pissed.

She muttered some not-so-nice sounding words at me and then pointed to my eye.

"Eye," she said seriously, not understand that her mother had believed her to be kidnapped 30 seconds prior.

"Oh my GOD," I said again, my heart beating fast. With Natalie against my chest, finger still cocked in the direction of my eyeball, I rushed into our bedroom where Tom was fast asleep.

"TOM!" I barked.

I had to tell someone.

"TOM!" I said again and the lump in our bed stirred and angrily muttered out a response. He cracked open one eye. "Who is on the phone now?" he grumbled, arm coming out from under the sheets and outstretched. He assumed that I was waking him up because a troop called, like usual.

But no.

"Natalie got out of her crib and fell asleep on the FLOOR. I thought she was GONE. I thought someone had kidnapped her!" The words tumbled from my mouth in a hurry as I held Natalie against my heart. Natalie was beginning to feel stiffled so she pushed against my chest angrily and struggled to break free.

Tom dropped his arm. "Huh?"

"Natalie got out of her crib and fell asleep on the FLOOR!" I repeated. "What if she had snapped her neck while getting out of the crib? What if she had been SMOTHERED by one of her toys?"

A smile began to form on Tom's face. "Have you been watching those Chucky movies, Amber? Toys don't come alive and smother people in real life," his scratchy voice explained.

"Well, she could get stuck in all her stuffed animals and be smothered," I explained, kissing a wiggly Natalie's head. She finally broke free and crawled over to her daddy, throwing her arms around his torso.

Save me from the crazy woman!

"She's fine," Tom said firmly. Then he yawned. "Well now that I'm awake do you want to do something? Get lunch, maybe?"

So we headed to the BX. Which is a small (and I mean small) shopping center on base. I thought their Toyland was opening today since I had an ad that said so. But no, near the front door was a sign saying that Toyland actually opened tomorrow.

*Sighs*

Then we decided to have Taco Bell for lunch. I wanted to try that new volcano taco and see if it was truly spicy. It drives me insane when places claim that things are hot but when I bite into them, they aren't at all.

The volcano taco was somewhat spicy. I added fire sauce to it and then it was perfect.

When we got home I had Tom move Natalie's crib to the lowest setting. Before it was on the second lowest and I assumed that Natalie wouldn't attempt to climb out.

Obviously I was wrong. It's just, her brother never even tried to get out of his crib until he was nearly three. He stayed in his crib for a long time because I figured since he was comfortable, why move him? It always baffles me when people start to talk about moving their one-year-old to a toddler bed. I suppose if another baby is on the way and they need the crib it makes sense...

It always surprises me how different Natalie and Tommy are. Tommy was my calm baby. He'd sleep anywhere and be content.

Natalie...well, some people might recall that she'd only sleep if someone was holding her for the first two months of her life. Then she was able to sleep in her swing. And then, finally, I was able to move her into her crib. But it took some time. She also screamed a lot more than Tommy. Still does.

So Tom moved the crib to the lowest setting. And I plopped Natalie in her newly lowered crib so she could try it out.

"You can't escape out of here now," I told her.

Natalie laughed at me. She lifted her leg as though to try to get herself out but realized she couldn't. She looked a tad insulted.

"Sorry," I said. "You're only seventeen months old. Don't grow up too fast."

Natalie pointed at me. "Eye?" she asked.

"Eye," I replied.

She's just growing up so fast.

I have some pictures of the little escape artist. I put her in one of her dresses.

Tom Might Deploy

So Tom called last night right as I was about to start a bath for Natalie. I cursed silently when the phone rang--I am not a phone person in the least, mind you. I can chat for a little bit and then I'm basically over the phone. Tom usually always called me when we were dating. He'd wake me up a lot too. I'd sleep in BC (before children) and he'd call at 10 and be surprised that I was still in bed.

And he'd tell me, "You know, it's okay if you call me once in awhile.."

And I'd explain, "Sorry. I'm just not a fan of the phone."

Which is why I never wanted a cell phone. I'm not one of those girls who want the pink one with sparkles all over it and I could care less about the iPhone. But Tom insisted that I get a cell phone for emergency use. Or because he needed a way to get a hold of me when I leave the children with him and go out shopping. So he can call and be like, "Um, where are you?"

Because to him, shopping takes no more than a half hour. Forty minutes, tops.

To me, shopping can take up to two. If I really look hard. Which I never have time to do with impatient children.

But if I'm by myself I'm trying on everything and walking slowly down aisles and just enjoying the silence...

But anyhow, I digress.

Tom called and I picked it up and barked out, "Yes?" because I saw it was him on the Caller ID.

"Guess what?" Tom said, his voice laced with excitement.

I had no idea why he sounded so happy. Usually when he calls from work he sounds exhausted and plain pissed off because one of his troops showed up late to work or something and he got yelled at because of it.

"What?" I replied as Natalie laughed and ran off butt naked. Because I had been getting her ready for her bath, you see.

"I got a deployment!" Tom sounded elated.

"To Greenland?" I wondered.

"Nope. Iraq."

Oh.

Well.

I was silent for a moment. When I think of Iraq, I'm sorry, I think of missing limbs or death. I can't help it. I can have morbid thoughts.

"It would be from March until September. Only six months," Tom continued when it was obvious I wasn't going to say a word.

I was still quiet. I didn't know what to say. It seemed a bit silly to shout out congrats when a person is going to IRAQ for heavens sake. Even though Tom has been trying to get a deployment out of here for months.

"Amber?" Tom said.

"I'm here," I answered.

"What's wrong?" Tom asked, sighing.

"Six months is a long time," I said in a small voice. "And you're going to..." I lowered my voice and said in a horrified tone, "Iraq."

"But you can be happy for me. I WANT to go," Tom argued, sounding slightly annoyed.

"Tom," I said. "If I was happy that you were leaving then you should be concerned. You should be HAPPY that I'm worried about you. And that I'll miss you. Even though it will be nice not to have your junk all over the house. The house can actually stay...clean..."

I said it in a joking tone but I was totally serious.

"Anyhow," Tom said, ignoring the comment. Because to him, he's not messy in the least. "I'm happy about it. I need a break from these people. Plus, don't be sad. Remember..I get extra pay.."

Oh. Right. I had actually forgotten about that.

"Amber," Tom said, cutting into my thoughts. "Stop thinking about Gymboree."

Huh?

How did he read my thoughts?

Because that's immediately what popped into my head.

Children's clothes! I can buy more children's clothes!

Though I probably won't. I'll be putting a lot of the extra money into savings.

"Natalie is going to be crushed," I pointed out as Natalie ran around in circles. She's a total Daddy's girl.

"I know," Tom said in a slightly sad tone. "But she'll be okay. Oh and remember. You and Jennifer are going to the Mall of America in April. So you have that to look forward to."

That's right. Jennifer and I are going to the Mall of America in April for a few days. Tom was going to go but then he backed out. And now it turns out that he can't go anyhow.

So yay. Girl trip.

Though Tom started to say that he thinks I need to bring some mace.

"Just in case. I mean there weren't be any men there and who knows, mall people can be nuts," he said.

I rolled my eyes. "I don't need mace, Tom. I've seen Miss Congeniality and I know how attack people with S.I.N.G."

There was a confused silence from Tom. I pictured him sitting in his desk chair with his eyebrows furrowed.

"Uh, should I even ask? What's S.I.N.G?"

I cleared my throat and sang all off-key like, "Soloflexes, instep, nose, GROIN!"

There was another silence. Then a, "You're weird," which is basically a comment Tom uses towards me at least two times per day. Sometimes more if I'm feeling particularily silly.

So yeah. As of right now Tom is set for deployment in March. Granted he says he's not going to get his hopes up too high because "the Air Force has fu*ked me over plenty of times and I won't be surprised if they take this away from me.."

I'll miss him if he goes. But I know he wants to help serve his country and that he'll be happier if he goes.

So please Air Force, give the man a break!

Chocolate Covered Pretzels

Dang you, Whoopi Goldberg!

I had on The View and she was doing her favorite things. Or something like that. I dunno, I never pay full attention to the show. But she started talking about chocolate dipped pretzels and my chocolate radar popped on.

Chocolate? Someone is talking about chocolate? Where? Where is the chocolate???

My eyes swiveled to the TV and there was a website on the screen.

www.pretzables.com

So of course I had to look.

And now I have some pretzels coming to my home. Because I have no willpower.

Oh and I totally ordered while hungry.

If I hadn't been hungry I probably could have just looked and said, "Mmm, looks tasty, maybe another time," and happily went on my way.

But no.

I looked.

While hungry.

And now I have pretzels coming to my home. (But there was 10% off code on the site at least. So it wasn't SO bad..)

Oh well.

Chocolate pretzels are actually something that Tom will eat.

Maybe not ones with sprinkles though. Tom doesn't like sprinkles because he's a complete weirdo. How can someone not like sprinkles? They make desserts FUN.

Anyhow, Tom had the weekend off. So on Saturday we headed to the mall, where Tommy found his Halloween costume.

He's going to be Bumblebee from Transformers. The kid is obsessed with that movie.

Then we went into the pet store, which is always a mistake. Because then Tommy is all, "Oh I want that dog! And that cat! And that weird dinosaur thing!"

"That's actually a lizard, Tommy."

"Oh. Well I want it!"

Um. No.

Natalie just makes animal noises at them. At the dogs she was all, "Woof. Woof!" Then when we got to the kitties she went, "Meeeow!"

Tom went, "How about we get another pet?"

I went, "Are you out of your ever loving mind?"

Then he went and asked the store worker to let me hold a kitten.

"I don't want a kitten," I told Tom firmly as the store worker took a gray tabby out of the cage.

I have a soft spot for tabbies. I have no idea why.

Then the little bundle of fur was dropped in my palms.

So tiny!

*Squeals*

But I had willpower. I held the kitty for a few minutes and then gave it back to the store worker.

We cannot have another pet now.

Plus if we get another pet, I want to get one from the shelter. There are so many kitties there that want a home.

After we were done shopping, Tom asked what I wanted for lunch and I went, "Coldstone."

Tom made a face. "Coldstone?" He looked confused. "You can't have ice cream for lunch."

"Sure I can," I replied simply.

Tom shook his head firmly. "No. You can't."

He just thought it was so bizarre that I wanted ice cream for lunch. But why not? It always fills me up.

Needless to say, Tom did not want Coldstone for lunch.

So we had Wendys.

I had my spicy chicken sandwich. With a copious amount of fries because Tom never eats all of his.

Then yesterday evening Tom all of a sudden gets an idea to go to Wal-Mart.

"Natalie is in her PJs," I pointed out.

"So what? It's Wal-Mart," Tom reminded me.

True. I see people in questionable attire there all the time.

A baby in sleeper PJs probably wouldn't even bat an eye.

And I was right.

People cooed over Natalie like always and didn't even look shocked that she was clad in pajamas.

I got some Sara Lee strawberry cheesecake bites.

Yum.

Then Tom wanted to get Mercenaries 2. It's this new computer game where you basically go and shoot everything? It's the sort of game that mothers blame their children's violent behavior on.

"So you just shoot things?" I asked Tom, staring at the box.

"And people," Tom said a little too proudly.

Um.

But then he checked the price. $49.

And he put it back!!

I nearly fainted. He looked at my shocked expression and went, "What? I just bought Madden 09. I don't really need this.."

Good gracious. He's growing up! In the past he would have bought the game.

After we checked out Tom said he had a surprise for me.

"Is it cheese?" I asked. (I say weird things like that all the time.)

Tom didn't even look surprised by my comment. He's known me for too long. "No. Not cheese. Coldstone!"

Coldstone. Yay!

So we went to Coldstone where I got my Mint Mint Chocolate Chip or something like that. It's mint ice cream with brownies and chocolate chip. In a chocolate dipped waffle bowl. With sprinkles of course.

Tommy is boring and only wanted a scoop of chocolate ice cream. Nothing mixed in. He looked horrified when the worker suggested it.

"NO. Just CHOCOLATE!" Tommy barked out, looking stunned.

(The horrors! Mixing--gasp--BROWNIES with chocolate ice cream. My kid is weird..)

And he didn't even want a waffle bowl.

"Just a cup, please," he said.

It amused me because I bet that's how some parents order with their children. Only they're the ones with the simple ice cream flavor in a bowl--to watch their figure of course--and their kid is the one with the mixed up ice cream in a waffle bowl with sprinkles. Hah.

I shared with Natalie. She seemed to like it.

And now I'm about to go eat my lunch. At Wal-Mart they had some of those frozen TGI Friday's snacks out. And there was a coupon for $1.00 off on the box so I picked the loaded baked potato one up. It has cheddar cheese with a lot of bacon on top. Mmmmm...(and like 250 calories PER potato wedge and I'm having three...eeps..but, I mean, ONE wouldn't fill me up..)

A Fashion Show

Here are the pictures of what I bought at Gymboree.



Yes, my kid is weird. Most fashion shows end in tears but once again mine started before because she wanted to walk around outside. She was insulted that I asked her to hold still for a second so Mommy could take a picture. Clearly she's all, "Screw that! Must explore!" The pants are a bit big in the waist but I'm used to it. When you have a tiny kid belts become your best friend. And the hat is actually from Harvest Leaves but it went well enough with the outfit.




Of course she ripped the hat off. But this never stops me from buying her hats. I'm hoping that she'll just learn to accept them.



As you can see the shirt is a little big on her. You might be thinking, "Erm, why not get 6-12?" Well, 6-12 shirts are too tight on her now. And the 6-12 pants are like high waters. And I'm sorry, she may only be 17 months and not know the difference but I cannot let her walk out of the house in *gasp* high waters...I just can't..



Then I put her in a skirt with the pumpkin tights. The skirt is from Target and I'm not crazy about it. I need another one because it just doesn't work for me. But the tights are adorable with the shirt.



Yes, I put the hat back on her. And she tolerated it for about six more seconds after this photo was taken.



I decided on this dress as the other outfit. I wasn't sure about the color but I think it looks cute on Natalie.



Look at that crazy hair. That would be from the lovely Wyoming winds.



In this picture I was explaining that I was on a budget and that's why she only got two outfits. She was visibly shocked. (I'm kidding. She just saw an airplane fly over head and was impressed.)



Hrm. She's been crossing her arms across her chest like that more and more lately. The teenage years are going to be fun.



Basically she was all, "You're still here?"

Then she did this:



And I figured it was time to stop the photo shoot.

A Fun Filled Day

"Do you have to poop?" I just asked Tom no more than ten minutes ago.

He gave me a surprised stare from the couch. "Um?" He raised an eyebrow in question.

I gave an impatient sigh. "I'm about ready to put that Lysol cling stuff in the toilet bowl and if you have to go, it'll ruin the whole point."

Seriously, one time I had put that Lysol stuff in and no sooner than I had circled it around the bowl than Tom was strolling into the bathroom, whistling and happily closing the door behind him.

I didn't want that to happen this time. I'd just like to have clean toilets for at least a few hours before Tom goes and puts his boy germs all in it.

So anyhow. Cleaning toilets isn't the only thing I've done today.

No, I've done a lot.

In the morning I headed to Gymboree for their Baby Sale. For those who don't know they have $10 and $20 price marks for children up to 5T. Plus you can use a 20% off coupon which makes the $10 items $8 and the $20 items $16. (I know a lot of people can figure that out on their own. But if you're Math Stupid like I am, there you go.)

Tom was actually awake which is rare. Usually he sleeps during the day. But since he slept through most of the night he was on the computer.

So I told him, "Great! You're up. You can watch the baby. Here," I said and plopped a confused Natalie on his lap.

She immediately reached her arms back up for me.

Hey? Her look clearly said. Don't I get a say in where I go? I want to go with you.

But going shopping with Natalie is not fun. She's not old enough to appreciate the act. And my Gymboree is incredibly small and her stroller is mammoth sized so I'm constantly running into human beings or racks. Then Natalie always wants out of her stroller and announces that fact with a loud shriek that causes adults to wince and young children to clap their hands over their ears and shout, "Mommy! That baby is LOUD!" while shooting Natalie a dirty look. So then I have no choice but to pick her up WHILE pushing the stroller. And then I continue to bump into racks and people and seem to say, "I'm sorry," every two seconds.

"I'll be back," I promised Natalie and gave her a kiss.

She started to whimper. Her arms were still in the air, demanding to be picked up.

When she saw me heading for the door she looked utterly horrified and slid off Tom's lap even though Tom was all, "It's okay, sweetie. You can hang out with Daddy.."

Natalie toddled after me, her whining increasing with each step.

Her arms were still in the air.

It's heartbreaking, really. I mean I'm flattered she likes me so much but sheesh, sometimes I need a break.

"I love you. I'll be back," I said and reached for the front door.

Now Natalie was flat out crying.

Mommy is leaving without me. MOMMY IS LEAVING WITHOUT ME!

I rushed out the front door and shut it behind me. I heard a heartbreaking wail followed by a, "It's okay, sweetie. Really. Daddy is here!"

The crying continued as I walked to my beloved PT Cruiser.

I felt guilty as I slid behind the wheel.

But that guilt began to dissolve as I got closer and closer to the mall.

Almost there. Clothes! Cute clothes!

After I parked I went right through the mall and walked quickly to Gymboree.

I'm a woman on a mission was what my walk clearly showed to the other people.

And then there it was. Gymboree.

I walked in and headed right for the new line. Immediately there were ten things that I wanted.

But I can't...

*Le sigh*

And again I wished that I were rich and could grab whatever I wanted.

My store hadn't quite put out the entire line because, as the sales assistant told me, "We just got it in yesterday at 4:30."

Goodness.

So some things were missing which I asked about. But they just walked in the back and got the things that I needed.

I got another Gymbuck. And some uber cute clothes. And yes, I'll post pictures of Natalie in them tomorrow. Right now she's napping.

Then I called Tom and asked what he wanted for lunch. I told him I was just getting Chinese food in the mall and he said he'd take that too.

"Really?" I asked. "I thought all you liked was sweet and sour chicken.."

"No. I like sesame chicken now. Remember?"

Oh right. See at my Mom's house we ordered Chinese food. As usual, all Tom wanted was sweet and sour chicken. But then I prompted him to take a bite of my sesame chicken.

"It looks slimy," Tom said, wrinkling his nose at my outstretched fork with a tiny piece of chicken on the end.

"It's delicious," I promised.

Tom leaned over and sniffed it. "It smells."

"It's DELICIOUS," I repeated.

Then he took a cautious bite. Surprise washed over his face. "Actually," he said, chewing thoughtfully. "That's pretty good."

So then he added another Chinese dish that he liked to his tiny list.

(So far it's sweet and sour chicken, sesame chicken and beef fried rice. Oh and egg rolls, depending on how they're made.)

"I'm really an easy person to get food for," Tom told me over the phone.

Huh? Really? EASY?

That is not how I'd describe Tom. I mean the man only likes about 20% of foods in the world!

I ended up getting him a combo with rice, sesame chicken and sweet and sour chicken.

For myself I got lo mein, sesame chicken and bourbon chicken.

Yum.

Of course I also picked up my sweet tea from Chick-fil-a.

I'm stunned that there are people who don't even know what sweet tea is. One time I got some sweet tea and this lady behind me went, "What's sweet tea? I know what tea is but what's in sweet tea?"

Um.

I explained it to her and she wrinkled her nose. "Ew sugar," she said.

Ew SUGAR??!!!

How about YUM sugar!

Oh well, more sweet tea for me.

(She's probably one of those Splenda users. I tried to make sweet tea out of Splenda and I'm sorry, but it's disgusting. It has a really strange after taste.)

Then I headed for home.

I walked through the front door, bracing myself for the house to be a complete disaster and Natalie to be on the floor sitting in her own filth while pitifully going, "Mama," every few seconds.

I saw none of that though.

No, Natalie was happily playing with one of her toys and the house wasn't that messy. Of course Yogo Bits were scattered all over the floor but that's nothing compared to what I've seen the living room look like before. Tom was stretched on the couch watching Spongebob. I don't know how he can watch the same episodes over and over. If I see that episode where Spongebob takes Pearl to prom one more time I think I'll scream.

When Natalie saw me she came over with a big grin on her face.

"Did she cry long?" I asked Tom.

"Nope. Only about five minutes and then she and I just snuggled for a bit and watched Spongebob."

Ahh. Good.

Then we ate lunch. Natalie ate a few bites of lo mein and rice and then insisted that she was done.

*Sighs*

I wish the girl would eat more.

Then while we were eating Tom said, "We should go to Target."

Huh?

You have to understand that my husband is not big on shopping.

So after we ate we headed for Target. And I figured out why Tom wanted to go to Target. He wanted Madden 09 for his PSP.

"Well you DID get all those clothes," he pointed out.

I did pick up a shoe organizer for Natalie since a lot of their college stuff was 50% off.

And now I'm home and I've cleaned some toilets.

Wouldn't you know that Tom just announced that he has to use the bathroom?

I shot him a dirty look and he went, "I'll clean it afterwards. I promise!"

Ugh. Living with a man can be so disgusting sometimes.

The Cyst Appointment

So on Thursday I went in to get the cyst under my eye removed.

I left early so I could browse Barnes and Noble in peace before my appointment. To sort of calm me down because I was still worried about the NEEDLE that was going to be injected under my EYE.

I'm a nerd so my stomach started bubbling with excitement as I pulled up in front of Barnes and Noble and parked. Of course I love it there. It houses one of my favorite things: books. I could spend hours in there just browsing all the different titles and then relaxing with a book while sipping a sweet beverage from the Coffee Shop that is located within the store.

When I pushed open the front door I was hit by the scent of coffee. Mmmmm. I don't like coffee (sometimes I wish I did--those iced coffee drinks look delicious) but I have always loved the smell. I headed for the fiction section and started looking at all the colorful books. Of course it's dangerious territory for me to look at books. I inevitably want to get one and I cringe when I peer at the cost. Shouldn't a bunch of bound paper be like five bucks or something? Why do I need to fork out $20 for one book? It doesn't make sense. But it doesn't stop me from looking. Or buying.

Not even five minutes later I already had about ten books that I wanted.

What did I end up settling on?



Mainly because I love all things Henry VIII. I cannot wait for the new season of The Tudors to begin.

Of course I wanted more than one book. But I do have willpower. Or rather a Voice of Reason who constantly pipes into my head when I find something that I decide that I must have.

Do you really need that, Amber? Are you sure, Amber?

I was tempted to order a drink called the Triple Chocolate after I had checked out. It's something that I've had before and it's delicious. And topped off with whipped cream. I like to pretend that there aren't a lot of calories in it because I only order a small. But usually something called TRIPLE chocolate has at least five hundred calories. Some of the health experts are all, "If you MUST order that unhealthy drink get it without the whipped cream. That can save you fifty calories."

But hello? If I'm already going all out I may as well add on the fifty calories. Plus what's a drink without whipped cream on top?

I decided not to order the drink not because I was being good. But because I had to be at my appointment in twenty minutes and I didn't want to have to quickly gulp it down. I like to savor drinks like that. And trick myself into thinking that because I'm drinking it slow, that there is no fat content to it.

I headed for my appointment and walked into the building. I checked in and then took a seat. I picked up an old People magazine and started flipping through the pages while my feet clicked against the floor nervously. An old lady across from me frowned at my restless legs over her plant magazine. It looked like she wanted to say, "Lands sake. If you keep up with that your legs are going to walk off without you!"

I couldn't help it though. I was scared. I started to chew my fingernail but then stopped.

I can't chew on myself in public. It's gross.

I was called back about five minutes later. I was led into a room by a doctor who introduced herself and then started touching at my face.

It was a little bizarre. Just seconds after saying your name a perfect stranger is invading your space and poking at your skin.

I was slightly taken aback as she squeezed at my cyst.

After a few seconds she had a name for my cyst which for the life of me I can't remember.

Then she asked for assistance and another woman came in.

"I'll need the four punch," she told the help lady.

The FOUR punch?

What in the world--??

The doctor explained what all would happen.

It involved needles (eek), a tiny knife (DOUBLE EEK) and that four punch thing she had mentioned.

"I'm just," I said, nervously and swallowed, "I'm just going to keep my eyes closed."

I figured that would be best. Because if I saw the needle coming at me there is a good chance that I'd suddenly leap from the chair and go, "You know what? The cyst isn't bothering me. I think I'll go now. Many thanks," and run on out of there.

So the doctor pushed a button and my chair went back. I quickly squished my eyes shut as if I was worried that she'd automatically produce the scary needle--as if she kept needles in her pocket or something.

"First I'm going to rub the cyst with alcohol," she explained and I felt wetness under my eye.

"Then I'm going to mark it," she continued and I felt a marker tip.

"And now here comes the part that might sting for a second.."

The NEEDLE.

Oh my GOD the NEEDLE.

Oh my--

"And we're done.."

Oh.

I could barely feel a thing.

Then I think she took that four punch thing because I felt pressure on my cheek.

Then she found the cyst and went, "Ahh. It's coming out beautifully," which made me feel better.

And then she stitched it shut.

"All finished," she said and I opened my eyes.

My cheek felt a little sore but nothing horrible.

"Do you want to see it?" she asked me.

It?

Oh. The cyst.

"Sure," I said cautiously. I mean did I REALLY want to see it? What if it was disgusting and ewww SLIMY?

Then she reached over and showed it to me with a pair of tweezers. It looked like a tiny tiny kidney. Seriously. Though it was white.

"Some cysts are a cottage cheese like substance," she explained as my cyst dangled in front of me. "Some are firm like yours."

Interesting.

I was told to come back in two weeks to get the stitches removed.

Fun.

I was also taught how to take care of my stitches and then I was sent on my way.

It only took about twenty minutes. It was only 3:20 at that point and I had told Tom that I might not be home until around 5:00. I debated heading back to Barnes and Noble--I mean he wouldn't know how long my appointment was. He didn't know how long it took to remove cysts. I could totally get away with it and have my Triple Chocolate drink

But my Voice of Reason piped up.

Amber, that's not nice. Go home.

And I knew I'd feel guilty.

So I headed for home.

I felt a little embarrassed when I pulled up at the base gate to show my ID card. I was worried the guy checking my ID would be all, "What happened to your FACE?"

But as it was I had a tired looking troop who just wanted to go home check my ID card. He barely even glanced at me.

Tommy had just arrived home when I drove up. He glanced at my face and went, "What HAPPENED, Mommy?"

And Natalie kept pointing at it.

Tom went, "Aww you're cute with your tiny stitches."

Would you believe that I've never had stitches before? (Well except for on my crotch after I pushed out my kids.) It's surprising considering on how much of a klutz I am.

Tom even made dinner. Nothing fancy, just Sloppy Joes.

Of course it's a little weird going out with stitches. Some people have glanced over and obviously they're curious but they don't want to ask in fear of being considered nosey.

But I'm okay. I haven't gone blind.

"I TOLD you it would be fine," Tom said, rolling his eyes at me.

"You just never know," I replied seriously.

Because you don't. I really should refrain from watching those scary medical shows on The Discovery Channel. I don't really need to know that sometimes a scalpal can be left inside you on accident. I really don't.