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When Brandon has a good idea, he says "I-dea!" I believe it is the contraction for "I have an idea..."
Brandon calls McDonald's, "Ol' McDonald's." Then on the way there, he says "I'm gonna pet a goat!" We don't go there often, but he is quite familiar with the restaurant. He never seems to question why there is no goat there, though? Hmm. It is not at all like when my first born was 5 and in her only year of preschool. A friend and her mom suggested that we all go to McDonald's for a playdate. Alicia was excited, she looked at me and said, "What is McDonald's?" It was a proud moment for me, and a shocking moment for a few others.Here is a good one. This just happened while typing this entry. Brandon is constantly trying to find new ways of reaching me when I am busy doing something. He said from the other room, "Mooooooom, I want chocolate milk and you are going to get me chocolate milk."
Aye, aye, Captain.
It feels like it has been so long since I've had time to update my blog properly, so that is just it, I will no longer be properly blogging. Don't expect a picture. Don't expect accurate spelling. Not until school starts up again this fall, if ever. So many funny things and experiences have passed, and then because I forget to write them down, they end up lost along with my pesky coffee cup. So I've decided I just need to get my thoughts out quickly, when I have them.So back to my blog entry title. My 2 1/2 year old said to me matter-of-factly, "Hmmmm, I smell something...it must be poop or dinner." He calls them like he smells them, what can I say. I'm glad we were at our home, and not at someone else's. I wish I could remember what he was smelling, but I can't. At least I remembered how to access my blog. Okay, my computer had the password saved, but still, I remembered I had a blog. Work with me here.
Happy summer.
Can’t live with them, can’t live without them. So true. You want do hear what my little punk did today? He almost cost me a minimum of $85 and a super-sized serving of humiliation. Apparently my little bugger turned off the power supply to the pool. I never knew that useful switcheroo even existed, hiding beneath a camouflaged outlet cover, on the side of the yard where he is not allowed to explore.
We had a very windy day yesterday, which resulted in a lot of leaves and twigs in the pool. I noticed it was very dirty this morning. I was surprised our handy dandy little automatic creepy crawly pool vac didn’t do its usual bang-up job. I thought, hey I’ll just manually turn it on and let it work some overtime. Click....nothing. Hmmmmm? I go to the main switch by the actual pump. Click...nothing. Oh crap! I can actually feel my bank account getting about $1000 lighter. Crap! I call Brad and ask if we want to try to figure it out, or just call a pool guy. It is old and is very quirky already. We decide to call around and get some quotes on just coming out and meeting our pool pump. $85. I call Brad and we go through a little trouble shooting over the phone. THANK GOD! I try the stealth grand master power switch as advised by my oh-so-clever husband. I can hear some phantom ticking immediately. I have a very good feeling about this. I walk back over to the switch of my preference and click...purrrrrrrr. Yes!
So we rejoice and groan over the antics of our little two-year-old boy. I realize as I type this that my husband is no real pool-mechanic genius. He just happens to have been a two-year-old boy before. How can I compete with that?
I finally found the opportunity I was looking for. Brandon and I were playing with our neighbors. He was having the time of his life racing behind his friend's cool, super dump truck. I asked him if he wanted one for himself. "Seems too good to be true," he must have thought. "I wonder what's the catch." There is always a catch.Right you are! When my middle daughter was 2.5 years old, this is the route we took to get her potty trained.....fast! Only she didn't want a truck. She wanted Boots, the trusty monkey friend of Dora the Explorer.Here is the catch. If you want the monkey/truck, than you must poop in the potty FIVE times. That is it. If he is ready, like she was, we will be shopping for a new truck soon. When we were making the poster, he couldn't decide which super dump truck sticker to pick. He said they were all "too puffy." So apparently, even trucks have the equivalent to bad hair days. Good to know!So in the end, we settled on the Monster Truck. It didn't look puffy at all. So the game is on. I'll keep you posted. 10-4.
Yesterday was a full day preparing for a big day, today.
My daughters and I are celebrating the life of an amazing woman. She battled a cancerous brain tumor for over 2 years. For those of you who know about GBM, you know what a miracle it is that Cathy had two more years to love up and inspire her family and friends. Her courageous effort will surely last for generations. Our community is so blessed to have had her influence for 42 shining years. We also get to celebrate the 4th birthday of the sweet, vivacious daughter of some dear friends. It is sure to be a memorable day.
The day started with a quiet wake-up call by my 2 year old son. He has a pretty bad cold. He whispered in my ear while I was still sleeping, "Mom....you lake (wake) up?...pause...I need my chocolate newk (milk)." I so wanted to sleep longer. I told him, "In a few minutes, honey. Go watch your show." Yes, we keep the TV armed and ready with channel 106. He just walks by and turns it on. It usually buys me a few extra minutes of sweet, sweet sleep. Unfortunately, I thought I heard him opening the fridge and moving the gallon of milk. A shot of adrenaline coursed through my veins and I was up and at ‘em. Good thing because I would have missed the incredible display pictured above.
I don't think I'm ever going to be able to whine about a busy day, because I will always think about how much Cathy would have enjoyed any one of my challenges during her long battle with cancer. It is a reality check that adjusts my perspective to focus on blessings and gratitude. Thanks Cathy.
Living in sunny Arizona, my kids aren’t exposed to all the elements of weather that many children experience. On the way home from the gym it was unusually gloomy. Alison, my 8 year old, said, “Mom, we are learning about clouds in school. I just saw a gray cloud!” She was proud of her observation. My husband and I, both being raised in the Midwest, exchanged silent, but incredulous expressions.
I guess this is where, as parents, we could have told the kids how easy they have it. Back when we were kids, we had gray clouds for many days at a time. Sometimes it felt like weeks! But we didn’t. As we all got out of the car, I whispered to Brad, “That was bloggable, right? “Oh yeah,” he agreed.
I find that when I’m most unhappy, it is because my reality isn’t following the path of my great expectations. I have a choice. I can wallow in all of the ways my life has strayed from my master plan, or I can open my eyes and watch what is actually happening all around me.
To expect is to attempt to control the outcome. To watch is to allow the outcome.
Our reality may be different than we had planned, but it is ours to experience and enjoy. Be thankful, take a deep breath, open your eyes, and walk on. Feel free to take the scenic view.
