Hopeful, grateful, and proud

That’s how I feel right now.

More later, but for now, I’m just going to feel.

Pop Quiz

Question: For how long does one need to microwave a piece of tinfoil before it catches on fire?

Answer: less than three seconds.

How do I know this, you ask? Because my dumb ass put a piece of tinFOIL in the microwave for twenty seconds tonight. Things started to spark after about two, and a full on microwave fire was roaring by three. Three SECONDS. Seconds. The hell?

In my defense, I thought it was a piece of coated WAX paper that was covering the brie…the piece of brie that I unwrapped, then set directly in the micro on top of the “wax” paper. And further in my defense, Ed had not yet even opened the bottle of win e that was going to accompany said brie, so basically, it was just my stupidity that almost burned our house down, not the alcohol.

And to the manufacturers of the brie that wrap it in undercover tinfoil posing as wax paper: that ain’t right.

I’m really rather smart and logical and I have to say that I don’t often do super stupid crap, but seriously, this is pretty special. No major damage. You wanna see my fat ass run, just set a fire in my microwave! I didn’t realize I could get across the kitchen in two nanoseconds. I mean, the microwave is my sole means of making food for the Bug and I when Ed’s not here. Can’t have anything happening to it, now, can we?

So, make me feel better. Tell me the dumbest thing you’ve done. (BTW, I’m sure this isn’t the dumbest thing I’ve ever done. It’s more likely the most recent dumb thing.)

(Also, explain to me how I can write 3,000 word blog posts without actually ever thinking, but when I have a 700 word article to write, I can’t even make my fingers type. I’m pretty sure this is further indicative of the new low to which my mental faculties have sunk.)

McD*nald’s really does make you puke and other life lessons from the week

I learned a  lot this week. I’m sorry to have learned some of it.

On Monday, I learned that Chuck E. Cheese really is as nasty and full of germs as it appears. I could tell Matty was getting sick on Monday b/c although he had a lot of fun at the zoo, he was slightly whiny. By Tuesday, he had the full on nasties. Six days later, he is still a snotty, coughing mess. I’m lucky to have a mild version of it, but my poor bug hasn’t been feeling well. Oh, and he is WHINY. Really, really whiny. I can handle so much and not get annoyed, but I have to work very hard not to lose my patience with whining. To me, whining is like nails on a chalk board and I want to shove an ice pick in my ears. I know it’s because he doesn’t feel well and it’s not his fault, but oh.my.gosh. The whining.

I didn’t learn anything on Tuesday, or if I did, I no longer remember.

On Wednesday, I learned that McD*nald’s is as nasty as I’ve always known. We’re not a fast food family, with the exception of In N Out once a month, but I don’t put that in the same category. I don’t judge other people (honestly), but it’s not our thing. It grosses me out. Mattix has had McD*nalds ONE other time, when we were in DC at the space museum and there was nothing else to eat. I literally peeled the nasty skin off of his chicken and let him eat the mystery meat. I swore that was never going to happen again.

On Wednesday, we had a lot of errands to run and we got an early start. Mattix wasn’t hungry before we left, so I told him we’d go to the Good Egg for breakfast between our errands and his OT appointment. Well, we ended up running out of time and I didn’t know what to do. Against ALL of my better judgment, I decided he’d have his first McAss breakfast. I assure you it’s his last. He didn’t technically even have his first, because he puked it up. INTO MY HANDS. In McDs. How gross is that?! He ate a little bit of an Egg Mc*Muffin (and nobody is going to convince me that there’s actually any egg in the egg part of that Mc*Muffin) and a few bites of hasbrowns, in addition to a few sips of “orange juice” (term used very loosely, as it smelled like sugar water). All of the sudden, I thought he was choking. I held my hand out and told him to spit his bite out into my hand. He did that thing that the dog does before she pukes (I know, sorry, it’s gross) then all of the sudden, evereverything came up. Into my hands!!!! I was all sitting in McNasty, holding kid puke in my hands, trying to figure out what to do with it, horrified that the other McAss “diners” had their “breakfast” ruined by my kid vomiting.  I ended up dumping it onto the tray.

Lesson learned: I’m not an idiot for avoiding McAss like the black plague. That’s the first and last McCrap breakfast Matty will have. Ever. (Or at least for as long as I have control over his eating!)

Also on Wednesday, something I already knew was confirmed: Occupational Therapy really is amazing. Mattix graduated on Wednesday and I’m so proud of him! My main areas of concern, his abdominal strength and grip strength, are now nonissues. In fact, he showed a delay of 4-6 months in both areas at the beginning, and now he’s at the leve of a 28 month old for ab strength and a 36 month old for grip strength, so he’s beyond his age in those areas.  Yay Matty. He has also made HUGE progress with the sensory integration issues he has. The triggers that used to send him into a full on sensory meltdown either don’t even phase him anymore (as in he doesn’t notice), or when he notices, he’s able to self regulate 75% of the time. I am so happy for Mattix. And so, so proud. He worked very hard every week with Ms. Kim and all of the time at home with Ed and me, and his hard work has paid off.

On Thursday, I learned that happy hour rocks. Okay, I already knew that, but having it reinreinforced is always nice.

On Friday, I learned that I’m an idiot and I clearly had not learned my lesson less than a week earlier. I took Matty to Peter Piper Pizza with Kedra and her niece Amy. As it turns out, PPP is a little better than Chuck E. Cheese b/c there are no giant freak ass plastic animals and the salads are way better, but I still had sensory meltdowns. The good news is that it’s brand new and two minutes from our house. Oh, and how could I foget? PPP SERVES WINE! It may be cheap wine, but hey, I’m not going to complain. So I guess I’ll go back after all. ha ha. Matty just adores Amy and he’s going to be so sorry that she left to go home. He just adores her and followed her all over the place, wanting to do whatever she was doing. When he traded in his tickets for stickers, he gave one to me, put a second on his hand, then peeled off a pink sticker and yelled, “AAAAmmmmeeeeeeee!!!” becubecause he wanted to give it to her. Such a sweetie.  His favorite ride was the little kids merry go round; I wish I would have taken my camera because his smile was just enormous.

On Saturday, I leanlearned that the second night away from Matty was easier than the first and I might just be able to get used to one adult overnight a month! In my dreams, of course, but I’m just saying. My mom took Matty for the evening and night and Ed and I went to dinner and a movie. I love going to movies and escaping real life for a few hours.

Today, I learned that it’s possible to get flea bites from DUCKS that live in a pond outside of one of our favorite Mexican restaurants. Matty fed the ducks and Ed and I both helped  him. Good thing Matty and Ed had on long sleeves. Too bad I didn’t. How gross is that? I’m going to have to have Ed put Advantage or Frontline on the back of my neck or something.

And that was our week! Hopefully Mattix will start feeling more like himself. I know he’s tired of feeling icky and selfishly, I’m tired of the whining.

Happy Monday!

Monday at the Wildlife zoo

Yesterday , we went to the Wildlife Zoo. It as awesome. I LOVE it. I haven’t been there since I was a kid and it was great then, but it totally rocks now. You can get soooo close to the animals, as in, two feet away from the tiger cage, with the tiger up against the fence…two feet away. Same with all of the big cats. In fact, the jaguar can walk right above your head b/c you walk under part of his enclosure. I get way too excited by these things. I also have really terrible thoughts about all of the beautiful cats…something to do with them making really nice purses. But I’m just kidding, of course.

The park has a new aquarium and while it pales in comparison to some of the really cool aquariums I’ve been to, like  Baltimore, Chicago, and Scrips in Scan Diego, it isn’t bad for being in the middle of the desert! It is far superior to the DC aquarium, so overall, I was impressed.

Mattix loved it. He had so much fun running around and getting so close to all of the “an-ee-mals.”  His favorite parts were the small mammal exhibits and the itty bitty water turtles. Oh, and the goats. He gave a lot of kisses to a lot of goats. Ew. He ran sooo much. He barely rode in the stroller. It’s very accessible and easy for small kids to run around.

We went with my mom, my friend Kedra, her mom, and Kedra’s six year old niece, Amy. No worries, Delila, Matty stayed true to you, but I’m going to sell him out and say that he loves him some older woman every once in a while. By the end of the day, if Amy got too far away, Matty would yell, “Ameeeeee, Ameeeeeee, come!” And then he’d go running after her. I’ll have to teach him that yelling out to women like dogs isn’t going to work forever. But for now, Amy loved being the older, wiser one and she taught him all sorts of important things. She told me she was going to be a teacher when she grows up because she’s so good at teaching two year olds. How cute is that? Mattix was happy to learn from her.  She was also super sweet and shared her yummy snacks with Mattix, which just made me look like the world’s lamest mom for bringing cheddar bunnies, string cheese and orange slices. He was so happy to have his first taste of those little “fruit” snack things that come in little individual packages that are really just solidified corn syrup that he gave her a huge kiss when he put the first one in his mouth. The way to Matty’s heart is clearly through his stomach.

Mattix totally looked to her for direction. He wasn’t interested in touching the sting rays, even though my mom and I did it to show him it was okay, until Amy told him it was okay and did it herself. Then he was all over it. Same with the starfish and crabs. Do you think I can have a six year old babysit my two year old? Hmmm…

I’m serious about the goats…this is a greatly narrowed down selection!

I don’t know why, but I love this picture. He looks so serious.

He watched all of the other kids feed the giraffe and he said he was ready, but as soon as the giraffe got close, he pitched the foot and yanked his hand back! I wish I would have caught his face on camera b/c it was adorable. In Matty’s defense, the giraffe’s tongue was freaky! I ended up feeding it for him.

I forgot to ask Kedra whether Amy’s mom minds if I post photos of her, so until then, here are a few cute ones that don’t show her face. If I’m able, I’ll post a few of Matty giving her kisses, in addition to the ones where he insisted on squeezing his little booty next to hers in the same stroller seat! Kedra’s mom brought a sit and stand stroller, but Mattix refused to sit in front of Amy, instead telling her to “move, peeze” so he could squeeze in next to her. Sweet. Good thing Amy’s just a little peanut and such a sweet heart.

 

I would love to know what they were discussing. The big people were sitting at a bench, slamming Diet Coke, and Matty and Amy wandered off and then engaged in a long conversation.

Mattix was really intrigued by the tiny turtles. He spent a lot of time standing in front of their tank, watching them swim back and forth. In fact, I finally had to tell him it was time to move to the next exhibit.

By the time we got home, Mattix was out. (I have a cute photo, but stupid WP won’t allow it to upload.) In fact, Ed picked him up from his car seat and woke him up gently so that he could eat dinner. Matty is not one of those kids that just transfers from the car seat to bed. He’s usually wide awake, ready for action, after sleeping in the car – even if just for ten minutes. But last night, he just cried and begged, “Nigh Nigh. Peeze. Baba! Milk!” He went right to sleep before 7:00. Again, VERY unusual.

Tomorrow, we’re meeting my friend Laura and her daughter Hannah at the regular zoo. Lots of zoo for us!

You’ve gotta be frickin kidding me

So yesterday, I kept looking at the photos of Matty with that freak mouse at Chuck E. Cheese.* First of all, I have way too many photos of my cute kid next to that giant ass plastic mouse that looks like it’s covered in lead based paint that’s peeling all over the place, lowering his IQ by the second. But anyway, besides that, I could stop staring at it. I mean, take a look at one of them:

Okay, I’m not done after all. What the hell is with the blood in its mouth? Did it just finish eating a kid or something? ‘Cause you’ll never convince me that’s a tongue. It’s not. It’s blood. And as if it’s not bad enough that there’s blood in its mouth from its last victim, the blood is all dripped all over the steering wheel. But you can’t see that in this photo. So it’s a cannibal that eats kids AND its a messy eater. Bad example for my kid. And the nose? Freak ass mouse clearly caught some sort of communicable STD that spread.

But anyway, besides that, it kept causing these really scary flashbacks wherein I would get all shaky, but a little hungry, all at the same time. But then the fear would take over again and I’d get all shaky. I knew it wasn’t from a past Chuck E. Cheese visit, ’cause I haven’t been there since I was a kid and back then, I would’ve been way too busy kicking the other kids’ asses at ski ball playing games to notice.

And then it occurred to me.

Feast your eyes on this nightmare inducing scare fest:

What, you ask, is that? It’s a box of knock off Coco Krispies from Vietnam.

Except instead of Snap, Crackle, and Pop trying to hawk themselves to my kid, it’s a rat. With rabies. A severely advanced case of rabies. Trying to scare the shit out of my kid and intimidate him into eating the crap inside the box, which, by the way, is not Coco Krispies at all, but instead “Wheat curls.” What the fu*ck are wheat curls? And what kind of marketing tactic is this?

And just in case you’re wondering, the answer is yes, I brought this box of rabid rat shit home from Vietnam. Fourteen months ago. And it’s been sitting in my kitchen cabinet ever since then. It is one of those single serving boxes, in my defense. I bought it at the Tax Market because I couldn’t stop giggling. Or shaking.  And I totally forgot about it until tonight. I’m not going to sleep for weeks now.

————-

*I realize that Chuck E. Cheese is not spelled Chuckee Cheese. I thought I was really funny yesterday when I wrote Chuckee Cheese, but I forgot to explain it, and now I can’t remember why I thought that was funny. Note to self: stop drinking so much.

Also, if you want to see something worth looking at, versus the crap on my blog, go look at Emily’s blog. She posted the most amazing photos from their VN trip last year and they’re literally killing me. Ed and I want to go back to Vietnam SO badly right now. So. Badly. And seeing those photos is almost painful. Except they’re gorgeous. Note to self: win the lottery.

Also, Roger emailed me and explained the whole “Bless his heart” thing. I didn’t realize you use it when you’re fully insulting someone. I mean, I thought it was “Bless his soul,” so I obviously had no idea. That’s what happens when you grow up in the southwest, not the south, and then you try to use southern phrases all irresponsibly. This is awesome. I intend to work it into my conversations before, but now I’m fully committed to it.  My goal is to use it at least once a week. I can say things like, “You’re a total douche bag, bless your heart, you a$$ hole” when someone cuts in front of me in line at the grocery store or does something equally rude and offensive. And I can tell Ed, ”Get you ass out of bed and get the kid, you lazy sack of $shit, bless your heart.” I can totally merge white trash with southern manners.  I can’t even wait. I’ll let you know when I get to use it for the first time. I’m on the lookout for special occasions.

Also, we went to the wildlife park today, which has our state’s first aquarium, and it was awesome. I have a million photos of Matty and his new girl and they are ADORABLE, but I’ll post those tomorrow, because I can’t bear to put any more photos of him on the same page as those rats.

Happy Second Birthday, Mattix, take 2

Thanks to WP for eating my 2500 word post, full of photos. I’ve been terrible about writing real posts about Matty lately, and when I finally do, WP messes with me. Here we go again, and unfortunately, this one turned out longer than the original. Don’t feel badly for not reading it. This is for me to remember where Matty is right now. It’s not funny, it’s unedited, it’s dry, and it’s written very poorly. I just really want to remember him as he is at two. You can skip to the photos at the end. I didn’t want to disappoint Nicki two days in a row, though, so I kept writing until I passed out! J

Mattix turned two today! I can’t even believe my little Bug is two. He is growing up so quickly and I can see it every day. On Friday, we went to his two year old checkup appointment. That was almost unnecessary, as there was nothing that needed addressing. He’s just doing that well. He is growing like a little weed – for Mattix, of course. Over the past month, I’ve had to replace all of his 12 month clothes with 18 months. The 12 month clothes actually fit better, but they’re all too short – both pants and tops. He now needs the 18 month clothes for length, but they’re too baggy! Well, we know why now. He is 33 inches and 25.5 pounds – basically, he’s grown about two inches in the past few months. He is now just above the 25^th percentile for height and just below it for weight. Compared to other American kids, he’s still quite tiny, but *I* cannot get over how big he is getting. He has hung around the 25 percentile consistently for the past year.

At his appointment, we discussed something that I found very interesting. Mattix hasn’t ever thrown full on temper tantrums, and his doctor said that more than likely, he won’t start if he hasn’t done it yet. Ed and I can only recall one occasion where he laid down on the floor and kicked his legs. He wanted the remote and Ed wouldn’t give it to him. It was so out of character for Mattix that Ed and I just looked at each other and lost it…we laughed really hard. We weren’t laughing at him, but it was funny and unexpected. After a minute, Mattix started laughing along with us. Then he got up and that was that. He never did it again.

He has a lot of self control. I attribute that to his intelligence and ability to reason. I also think it might have something to do with his history, but that’s just me speculating. He is very smart and has always had an incredible ability to comprehend everything we say. Combined with his self control, he just doesn’t lose it too often. Obviously, he’s a normal kid and so when he’s tired or super frustrated, he acts accordingly, but when he gets upset, if I can help him focus on what I’m saying, he will listen and respond. Two weeks ago, Mattix has his first chocolate shake. He LOVED it. He kept saying, “Chock-leet shake! Mmmmmmm!” When we left, Ed took it away briefly to could buckle Matty into his car seat. Mattix immediately lost it and started crying, begging for his shake. I asked him to look in my eyes (that’s how we get him to focus, esp. if we are talking to him about an inappropriate behavior), and listen. I explained to him that Daddy was going to buckle him into his car seat and if Mattix was patient and then asked for his shake back nicely when Ed was done, he could have it. It took a few minutes, but he stopped crying, let Ed buckle him in, and then said, “Peeezzze, Daddy, chock-leet shake!”

Of course Matty is a normal two year old! Some weeks, we have a time out every day (or three times a day) and other weeks, we don’t need a single time out at all. TO works wonders for Matty. Each TO lasts two minutes and it gives him just enough time go get it together. At the end of TO, we don’t have some ridiculous lengthy talk about what he did. Instead, Ed or I (whoever put him in TO) go get him, ask him if he’s done (to which he always responds, “All done!”) and then he gives us hug or kiss. I’m so happy that he responds well (at least thus far) to TO b/c we’re very committed to non-physical consequences. I’ve known some children who don’t care the least about TO, so I’m so relieved.

Matty still loves to eat. He will eat almost anything – except vegetables. If we put vegetables in his food and he accidentally gets one in his mouth, the ensuing drama would make a person think we just made a valiant effort to slip our kid rat poison with his dinner. He either makes a horrifying face, sticks his fingers in his mouth, and scrapes out the offending vegetable with his fingernails, then hands it to me, or he leans over and spits the entire mouthful of food out and makes terrible gagging sounds. Ed has actually gotten really skilled at chopping veggies up super super tiny and mixing them into flavorful foods. We’re able to get a fair amount of veggies in that way, although not as many as I’d like. Other than that, he likes to try lots of foods. Sometimes, he goes through two day spells of picky toddler eating, usually when he’s not feeling great. On those occasions, he’ll insist that he wants “nacks” (“snacks”) and nothing else. I’ve found that I can get him to eat a full meal by putting a handful of “nacks” – either Cheddar Bunnies or Honey Bunnies – on the table, just out of his reach. Then he gets one “nack” for every bite he takes. He’ll eat his entire dinner for 15 cheddar bunnies. Works like a charm.

Bottles. Still doing them at bedtime and naptime. He’ll quit when he’s ready. That’s all I have to say about that. Except that I don’t care what others think. (We’re doing what we can to take care of his teeth until he’s ready to give up his bottles.)

Mattix is super compassionate and sweet. He notices if something happens to someone else that either causes them pain or he perceives to cause them pain. Any time I do a blood test or change a pump site, he says, “Ooowwww, Mommy” and kisses my leg. I assure him every time that it doesn’t hurt at all, but he is still concerned and wants to make me feel better. He is also super loving. He gives loves all the time, just because he wants to. I adore it when he runs up to me and gives me a huge hug or kiss for no reason. The other day, he left the room I was in and went downstairs with Ed. When they came back upstairs, he ran into my bedroom and said, “Hi, mommy!” He paused for a few seconds and then announced, “IIIII’mmmmmm back!” and I got a huge kiss. He loves his family – Ed, my parents, m brother, my close friend and neighbor Kedra, and me. These people are very constant in his life and they are very important to Matty. I love that he has meaningful relationships with his close family.

Mattix’s speech is exploding lately. I am incredibly happy about that. His verbal skills are really catching up to his comprehension skills and he is stringing multiple words together- sometimes four or more – to form sentences. His verbal skills have always been my main area of concern. We held off on speech therapy, only because it would have been for a “mild” delay, according to the evaluations, and because said “mild” delay would have cost $200 per session, one session per week. While we obviously wouldn’t just blow it off, we felt it safe to wait a bit longer to see how he did. As it turns out, he’s doing phenomenally. He has more words than I could even begin to count and he tells me what everything is. All. of. the. time. All. day. long. He often decides that I need to repeat his words back to him. If there’s a word I cannot figure out, he won’t quit until I get it. I can try to cheat and repeat it the same way he says it, but that just annoys him. He says, “nnnnooo!” and then says the word again. Sometimes this is a long process.

My favorite thing right now is doing the alphabet. I go through the alphabet – one letter at a time – and Mattix repeats the letter back. His voice gets higher and higher with each letter. It’s freaking adorable. He has the sweetest little voice. Everyone is always telling us how cute is little voice is. By the time we get to “W,” he’s in like the 8th octave and he says, “Double Dew” in this high pitched voice and I lose it. Then he laughs really hard, but I don’t think he knows why, and then we finish. Love it.

He can count to ten, although he only does it if he is really interested in what he’s doing. We can usually hear him count when he helps Ed cook. When Ed makes pho, Matty puts all of the dry ingredients into the container, one at a time. He counts each thing individually. The other day, he counted out each start of anise – all the way to ten. He also knows many of his primary colors and will announce things or sometimes will tell me what color something is if I ask – sometimes. Usually, he just does things on his own. He’s really into opposites right now – up and down, left and right, in and out, open and close, etc. He learned his left vs. his right a few months ago. It took him about ten minutes to grasp the concept and he can apply it to anything – direction and parts of his body (e.g., left ear vs. right ear).

He is sooo not into learning animal sounds and in his little world, everything either barks or moos, including me. He knows many different animals, but no matter how many times we remind him what sound that animal makes, it doesn’t matter to Matty. It barks or moos. Oh, or growls. Most things also growl. That came as a result of giving him a flashlight in the shape of a bear that growls when you turn it on. Now everything growls.

Matty still ADORES dogs and his “Gid-geet” is his whole world. Today, Gidget had the pleasure of playing doctor with Matty with the new doctor kit he received for his birthday. Gid-geet also gets to play in the sandbox, even when she doesn’t want to ( it’s amazing how a 26 pound kid can be so much stronger than a 24 pound dog), with the water hose, with hats, and just about anything else Matty can make Gidget do or wear. Today, poor Gidget got stuck wearing the stethoscope in her ears. When she tried to run away, stethoscope still in her ears, dragging behind her, Matty yelled, “No, Gid-geet! Come! Back! Mine!” and he chased her down and took it back.

Whenever I put Gidget into her crate, Mattix says, “Geeeedddd Geeerrrrrllll” (good girl) in a really high pitched, sing song-y voice. I realized that he does it because I pretty much do it, too. It’s so cute. When he does it, not me. As soon as I say, “Gidget, kennel” I hear Mattix say, “Geeeeddddd Geeeeerrrrrrlllll!” He associates the crate with “good girl.” So a few weeks ago, we were out walking down the sidewalk in front of some shops in a strip mall. There was a dog rescue group in front of a pet store, attempting to re-home dogs. There was a little playpen with a bunch of puppies inside that were barking. Mattix immediately ran up to them, put one hand on his hip, stuck out his pointer finger on the other hand, and started YELLING, “No! No, dog dog, no!” Ed and I did our best to make him stop, but he wasn’t going to quit until the dogs quit barking. Then, out of the corner of his eye, he spotted a dog in a kennel. He immediately stopped yelling at the puppies, ran over to the dog in the kennel, and said, “Geeeeedddddd Geeeeerllllll!” about five times. I swear to you, everyone within ear shot started laughing. It was hilarious. His personality is just so big. He also loves my parents’ dogs. One of them cannot stand little kids, so she spends most of her time avoiding him. Mattix is very good about realizing that Tigger doesn’t want to play with him – ever – and he leaves her alone. Their new puppy, Squeaky, loves Mattix and Mattix loves her. She’s a little football shaped Chihuahua puppy and so she’s the perfect size for Matty. They spend a lot of time playing together when my parents bring her over to our house or we go over there. When she jumps on Matty, he yells, “No! Squeaky! Okk!” (he says “okk” instead of “off” right now) and pushes her down, but gently.

Mattix loves to play. He is super imaginative and crazy busy. He loves to play in our backyard and I love that, too. Some days, he’ll play outside for hours, especially when our weather is perfect. In fact, his love of playing outside has turned us into the white trash of the neighborhood. Our backyard looks like it belongs on an episode of Cops now, too. Mattix drags out armfuls of toys, in addition to the million and one outdoor toys he has, the sandbox, the bikes, the Cozy Coupe, the water toys, the trucks, the golf set, etc., and turns the yard into a complete tornado of wreckage. Depending on how lazy busy I am, sometimes the toys stay out there for a day. He has also taken to emptying the sandbox all over the place, one bucketful at a time. Add to that the fact that Mattix screams (and I means SCREAMS), “NO! DOG DOG, NO!” every time any dog anywhere within ear shot barks, we’re pretty much trashing up the neighborhood. It doesn’t matter how many times I ask him not to yell at other peoples dogs. If they’re barking, he’s screaming “No!” (Yes, I know children are little mimes and yes, I know why he yells no every time a dog barks. In my defense, I don’t yell “no” at our dog. I just use my firm voice.)

He loves to go for walks and play in our neighborhood park. The slide there is crazy scary – it’s nearly straight up and down – but Matty has been braving it for six months. We can’t walk to the mailbox without stopping at the park. He also loves to run up and down the grassy hills in the water retention overflow area next to the playground. Ed taught him how to roll down the hill and that’s his favorite new activity.

I could g on and on forever, but I think I’m good for now! Scroll down for photos from his Bday!

 

 

I had intended to have a big second birthday party for Mattix, but other life stresses got in the way of my planning and we ended up just having a nice evening with our immediately family. At Chuckee Cheese. Holy sensory overload, Batman. I thought Mattix was the only one of us with mild sensory integration issues, but the true way to discover SI issues is to go to Chuckee Cheese. Turns out we all have mild SI issues. It took a solid ten minutes for me to acclimate enough not to have nerve twitches. I’m not being entirely sarcastic. That place is out of control. Anyway, it was fun. Mattix loved the rides, the games, the pizza, the cake, the presents – everything.

If you know me at all, you’ll know I swore up and down that Mattix was NEVER going to wear any sort of screen print or character clothing. Ever. Well, never say never. Ed was at The Big Dub one day, picking up Lactaid, when he came across my worst nightmare. Except that when he got home, Ed was so pleased that he found Yo Gaba Gaba tshirts for Mattix. It was actually pretty cute. So I made an exception. I guess if there’s every a place to wear a screen tee, it’s chuckee cheese, right? When we woke Matty up from his nap today, we gave him this shirt, all wrapped up. He unwrapped it, took one look, and exclaimed, “Up up up!” (that’s what he calls Yo Gaba Gaba b/c that how his first and favorite episode begins). He spent a lot of time in front of the mirror, admiring his new shirt.

 

I stood there, taking photos, wondering how long it was going to take Matty to figure out that there was a giant freak ass plastic mouse sitting next to him.

 

I think he figured it out…

He took the gift opening VERY seriously

We wrapped up the rest of his YGG tshirts. He was far less impressed the second time around. He literally threw them towards my mom and demanded, “More pres-eents!”

“Holy crap! How did you know??? I really wanted this!!!”

First, because he’s just gorgeous. And second, so that you can see the tablecloth. Only my mom would bring a WHITE tablecloth- cloth, not plastic – to CHUCKEE CHEESE!

 

I just love all of his expressions. Mattix has the most expressive face.

My little brother stuck the bow on his head. Not too pleased…

Loving on fire dog

Clearly, he’s been drinking and driving

 
He was a little startled by the candles. Neither Ed nor I smoke – obviously – and we aren’t around anyone who does, so I was surprised when Matty said, “Owwww. Burn!” I think he must have associated the fire with the firepit outside, although he’s only been out there when we lit it once. Smart kid.

I wasn’t sure if he’d be able to blow them out, but I was wrong!

 

And just in case you haven’t had enough of the photos, a little “Then and Now…” 

Mattix, eating his first bites of birthday cake on his 1^st birthday:

Mattix, eating his first bites of birthday cake on his 2^nd birthday:

What a difference a year makes! Can you believe how much he has grown up??? I’m so proud of him, but it does make me a little sentimental.

Family photo on Matty’s 1^st Birthday:

Family photo on Matty’s 2^nd Birthday:

Not too much has changed there – Matty’s still the only cute one!

Also, Ed and I finally watched the video from our time in Vietnam/our first meeting with Matty tonight. I know that might sound strange, but I also know that we’re not the only people who didn’t feel able to watch that video. There was so much trauma in Matty’s early months – trauma that we saw when we first met him. It took fourteen months for me to get to the point where I could watch it. I’m glad I waited, b/c it was very difficult to see it. He is doing so well now that I’m okay, but it was hard. I’ll write about it later this week.

Happy 2nd Birthday, Mattix!!!

Well, WP just ate my 2,500 word, detailed, full of photos 2nd birthday post that I spent TWO hours writing. I am SO mad right now. I hope to re-write it tomorrow, but for now, Happy second birthday, Bug!

So I totally had a dream about the most important thing EVER

All sorts of stress and significant (some good, some ultra crappy) things happening in our lives right now and last night, wanna know what my dream was all about?

Fitting in my skinny jeans.

It’s all Rachel’s fault. I read her post about the whole pop pop situation and I went to bed with images of her skinny little ass with a tiny little pregnant tummy in my head and I was all sorts of bitter and jealous happy for her that she’s itty bitty and cute. So apparently, the last thing in my head before I went to sleep was Rachel, all thin and whatnot.*

And also I went with my mom yesterday to return some jeans that my dad bought her for Xmas. He accidentally bought them in Petite, which isn’t entirely his fault, because the tag on the outside didn’t say “Petite.”  He did a great job picking out some kick ass designer jeans for my mom (with me on the phone to help him, naturally, and like usual, I didn’t get paid), but the whole petite situation was really unfortunate, given that my mom’s 5′10″. But anyway, that’s where the jeans part of my dream came from, I think.

So I dreamt that I put on my old skinny jeans – the ones that I haven’t been able to shove one of my giant tree trunk legs in, let alone pull up over my monumental ass for the past eight months- and they were a little big and I was stoked and I knew Rachel would be happy for me. The hell? What is wrong with me? So I called her and was all, “Rachel, my skinny jeans fit…AND they’re a big” and Rachel was all supportive and super excited about this turn of events – the one where I went to bed and woke up 15 pounds lighter.

Then I actually woke up. I woke up with a great, happy feeling and for a second, I thought it was reality. Then I looked down and saw my gut, slightly pouring over to the right because I was sort of laying on my right side, and my dream was shattered and reality set in. Reality sucks.

Reality’s a bitch.

If you’re wondering why I’m blogging on my anniversary and not having crazy hot monkey sex** hanging out with my spouse, it’s because I have to be at the cardiologist at 7:15 in the morning, which means I have to leave my house at 6:15, which means I have to get up at 5:15, which is out of control wrong.   I haven’t gotten up that early since last month, when I started leaving Matty in his crib to entertain himself until a reasonable hour Matty started sleeping past 5:00 a.m. after his last bout of the Bubonic Plague.

Nothing significant, but I am SO not looking forward to this. It’s an annual appointment and they either make me run my fat ass on the treadmill or take the IV of the crazy stuff that jacks my heart all up. I did the latter once shortly after knee surgery when I couldn’t walk, let alone run, and it was HORRIBLE. I kept yelling, “Call 9-1-1, I’m having a heart attack. Please. Hurry!” and the tech was all, “No, you’re not having a heart attack. This is supposed to happen” and I was like, “Bitch, when I die, you are so getting fired” but nobody listened to me and as it turns out, I didn’t have a heart attack and so she didn’t get fired. Whatever. She got lucky. But I have been in the waiting room there before when someone really did have a heart attack and the paramedics had to come, so I bet a tech got fired that day. But it wasn’t me. It was probably an old person who was like 80 and belonged in a cardiologist’s office, not someone in their 20’s. But whatever.

So obviously I choose to run, but I’m not a runner b/c of said knees (okay, and because my body type screams “NOT. A. RUNNER”). But because I’m not entirely out of shape – I actually do exercise regularly, even though I look like I just sit on my ass and eat bon bons all day long while watching free porn on Skinemax - it takes a lot to get my heart rate high enough for the tests. Anyway, if that makes any sense, I have to haul ass for far too long for my taste. I hate to run. I tried so hard to become a runner and almost undid two knee surgeries and a year’s worth of intensive physical therapy in the process. My attempt to become a runner put me back on crutches and almost cost me a trip to Vegas. Ain’t nothing worth a Vegas trip, that’s all I’m saying. So the point is that I may hang out on the elliptical all day long so that I can watch reruns of Las Vegas on TNT HD and have dirty nasty impure thoughts about Josh Duhamel, but you won’t catch me running unless someone is chasing me. With a knife. And I feel like I have a compelling reason to live on that particular day. A REALLY compelling reason.

Yuck. 5:00 a.m. is coming soon.

Oh, and for the record, Ed & I are going to a movie on Friday for our anniversary. (We really know how to celebrate eight years.) AND I totally respected the anniversary. This evening at 5:00 p.m., I changed out of the jammies I wore to bed last night into a CLEAN pair of Ed’s jammie pants AND a CLEAN tshirt from my law school days. It’s hard to be all sexy, all the time, but I make it work.  Girls, don’t hate me. It just comes naturally to some of us.

* I adore Rachel and her bog. I’m really not hating her for being itty bitty. She’s too cute (I’ve seen photos of her – she’s pretty) and smart and nice. I can’t help my weird subconscious, but I promise my subconscious is not hateful. It was trying to celebrate its imaginary weight loss with Rachel. That’s all. Stop judging.

** I don’t actually know what crazy hot monkey sex is. Honestly. I’m not being sarcastic. I’ve just heard the term and I think it sounds pretty exciting and so I wanted to use it in my blog.

OMG, I just googled “hot monkey sex” and I found this on Urban dictionary:

Very wild sexual intercourse that may or may not involve the use of monkeys.

“After the annual Barn Dance, Joe-Bob and Mary-Joe had hot monkey sex in the stable, waking up all the animals in the process.”

 

When one has sex while swinging from something. Could be a tree, bedpost, or very tall shelf.

Tom and me had hot monkey sex while he hung from the ceiling fan.

Seriously. There is  no use of monkeys in this house. And if my fat ass tried to swing from the ceiling fan, there’d be  a huge hole in the ceiling, where the fan fell out, then another between the first and second floor, where the fan and I crashed through, and then maybe even a third, when the, fan, me, and the stuff that goes between the first and second floor crashed into the foundation. The hell? I’m going to stop using terms I don’t know the meaning of. (I realize that sentence ended in a preposition – and so did the last one – and the worst part is that it’s annoying me, but at this point, I’m not sure my blog is the place where I should worry about that stuff. I’m writing about monkey sex, for crap’s sake.)

That also reminded me to thank those of you who corrected me. I now have a new phrase…”Bless his heart.” I really thought it was “soul.” I’m so not from the south. And also, Julie totally pointed out my unfortunate mistake. I referred to America’s Next Top Model as ANTP instead of ANTM. She suggested I might have been trying to be funny by calling it America’s Next Top Prostitute. That’s awesome. I wish that were the case, but I’ll be honest and admit that I’m actually just a total and complete dumb shit and for some reason, I kept typing P instead of M.  But I like the sound of America’s Next Top Prostitute, so I’m going with that from now on.

And also, Ed got busted watching reruns of the OC tonight. That’s for another day, but you should have heard what he said when he got caught. I’m certain he totally wears my thongs when I’m not home. I’m beginning to understand why Matty likes to put all my underthings on now. This is bad.

You know what’s worse? My blog. I think I used to write about my adorable little guy and adoption stuff. What’s happened to me???

I’m going to bed.

Tomorrow is our 8th Anniversary. And my husband is a big, fat, woman.

Tomorrow (Tuesday), Ed and I will celebrate our 8th anniversary. I won’t nauseate you with the envy-provoking details of our perfect marriage. Instead, you can read about it HERE. 

Seriously, though, eight years. This past year has proven to be the most challenging and the most wonderful – all at the same time. And yet our commitment to each other and our family never weakened.  We both thought we had it made, but then Mattix came into our lives, and we realized what having it made really meant.

I’m very grateful that I found the person who was meant for me at such a young age, and even more grateful that I wasn’t too worried about being so young so as to miss out on a life with Ed. I wrote about it last year, but of everyone I knew, I was truly the LEAST worried about having a boyfriend, let alone getting married.  It wasn’t in my five year plan when I met Ed, that’s for sure. Funny how that works out.

What’s also funny is what a woman my freaking husband has become. (Nice transition, huh?) I’ve been bitching about our ridiculously expensive cable/phone/internet bill for the past, oh, year. Seriously. $210 a month for stupid cable with a DVR on ONE TV, slow as all hell internet, and a phone line for $210 a month? So two weeks ago, I called up the competitor and switched our services over, which was a whole big pain in the ass in and of itself, but two weeks later, they finally have everything finished. And we’re saving $70 a month.

They did each thing separately, which meant three different people at our house at three different times. And the DirectTV dude – bless his hardworking soul (isn’t that what people in the south say? Bless his soul? I’m really trying to expand my repertoire of phrases ) was here on Saturday from 7:30 until 2:00. That’s a whole ‘nother issue that will get its own blog post. Not this DirectTV dude – he was great – but the other two who were too lazy to do the work on two different occasions.

So, anyway, my monumental money-saving move, the one that required me to be on the phone for TWO HOURS and the one that required three separate people to come to our house on three separate days – resulted in Ed’s own personal nirvana.

DirectTV has a lotta channels.

I’d like to give you a minute to brainstorm. Think, now. If you were a dude, what sorts of DirectTV channels would you be excited about? Keep in mind we even have billion and one sports channels and three free months of HBO and Skinemax, which, by the way, really does show soft core porn at night. And I don’t even get charged for it if I accidentally click on the title while I’m reading Ed the synopses and drinking Grey Goose. So think of what channels you’d be glad to have, if you were a dude.

And while you’re thinking, I’m going to bitch. I can’t find anything. Nothing. I can only find the basic channels b/c they’re the same. But where the hell is MTV? How can I watch mind numbing crap at 2:00 a.m. if I can’t find it? How can I find MTV when its buried amongst 2,000 channels? I’m not liking DirectTV.  I only need the same three or four channels to be happy. And I don’t know how to record stuff. And we lost all of our recorded episodes of Yo Gaba Gaba.  Matty cries, “Up up up, peezzee” and I’m all, “Sorry, little man, DirectTV has totally fuc*ked our lives up. There’s No Up Up Up ever again.”  My whole world has been rocked.

So, did you think of anything?

You’re probably wrong, b/c I’m married to a big, fat woman, although he’s not really big and he’s certainly not fat, which makes me bitter. Actually, he’s sorta little and very normal sized. If I only had that problem. But anyway, I’m married to a girl. It started the other day, when I walked in and found him watching re-runs of America’s Next Top Model on freaking Oxygen.

Yeah. OXYGEN.

I was all, “What the hell is wrong with you? You’re watching ANTP on Oxygen. Does your vagina ache or something?” and he was all sorts of defensive, which only makes him more suspect, and he was like, “NO! You KNOW I’m really into photography and that’s why I like ANTP” and I was all, “Listen, Samantha, the best thing you can say right about now is that you’re watching it because you like to see all of the starving 19 year old aspiring models running around the house half naked, ’cause I can’t think of anything much better than that” and he was like, “NO! Gross. It’s the photography.”

And then I thought about it for a minute. ‘Cause Ed really is into photographing people and he’s always liked ANTP (which is still suspect in and of itself), but OXYGEN? Really?

So I was all, “Whatever, douche, but you’re watching it on Oxygen. By the way, you might need to change your tampon. Can I get you a midol while I’m downstairs or anything?” and he was like, “Just shut up, okay, there’s nothing wrong with Oxygen. It’s just a channel.”

And then he changed the channel in an effort to prove that he really does have pe*nis. Too little, too late, if you ask me. The channel changing, I mean. I’m not commenting on anything else.

So I was ready to give him the benefit of the doubt, until tonight, when I was trying to write a blog post and he wouldn’t shut the hell up. He just kept yelling at the TV – things like, “Bitch! That ain’t right. No way. No wonder she sneaks around,”  snapping his fingers, and then saying, “Right, hun? Don’t you think?” So finally I had enough of his talking and I stopped pretending to listen  and/or and told him to just be quiet, but for some reason, I looked up and guess. what. the. f$ck. what?

He was watching the Tyra Show. On Oxygen.

And he was fired up b/c Tyra had these moms on the show who were all into snooping through their daughters’ $hit and some of them even put GPS devices in their cars and Ed was super put out about this terrible lack of trust and invasion of privacy and he was giving these women a piece of his mind.

Dude. I think my husband wears panties.

Then I told him I was going to blog about this when I was done blogging about our anniversary and he was all, “That’s some bull $hit. Don’t blog about it” but he knew I was going to do it anyway, so he was all, “Well, I’m really only watching it because I think Tyra’s hot” but I know that’s a lie because he’s commented plenty of times about how her boobs are too big for his taste and she’s like seven inches taller than him. So I know that was a lie.

So pretty much I’m married to a man-girl who watched Oxygen.

And we’re celebrating our 8th anniversary tomorrow.

I am Freaking Fabulous!

Obviously. I know that. I amaze myself, with my incredible parenting abilities, my housekeeping skillz (the ones that are going to land me on an episode of Cops), my impressive use of my education…

…but apparently, I’m not the only one I impress. It’s true. Lawmommy has deemed me fabulous!

Okay, I’m not fabulous at all and I know it, so I’m actually quite flattered by this award. And it’s my blog that’s fabulous, not me, but still, I can dream.

It was by stroke of luck that I even knew she gave it to me. I was reading her last ten (yes, I said TEN) posts all at once in Reader, oldest to newest, and this was the most recent! As if reading ten of her posts in a row wasn’t great enough (LM makes me laugh), I find this drawing of me (see above) and an award with my name on it. (that’s my new strategy, by the way – reading a month or so of posts at once, each night, about five or six blogs at a time. as it turns out, you never catch up that way because by the time you make it through the whole blog roll, you’re a month behind again. oh well. i’ll get there one day.)

Rules:

1. Pass it on to 5 fabulous blogs, and include the one that gave it to you (and link them).

2. List 5 of your fabulous addictions…..

I hate picking. There are like 150 blogs that I read (or try to read, more like read a month at a time) and most are quite fabulous. And then I went to pick two that Gretchen  already picked.  And then more that I love are PW protected. Here’s my best attempt to narrow them down:

(1) Stacy at The Delightful Delaney. As if the photos of the Delightful Ms. D didn’t bring enough fabulousness to the table, Stacy is funny, honest, and smart. I love her posts, her photos, and especially her comments and emails. She can make me feel more normal with a simple one liner. And Stacy still manages to be fabulous despite being tired much of the time, thanks to a a fellow non-sleeper. Did I mention those photos of that fabulous girl? Gorgeous.  

(2) Kelly at The Ben Show. Granted, I have 19 posts to read (yes, 19) to catch up, but I know they’ll be as fabulous as ever. Kelly is the amazing mom to the amazing Ben. Cutest kid ever (not counting mine, of course). Kelly is that rare combination of genuine, sarcastic, spiritual, caring, nonjudgmental. I love her blog; it’s never boring, it’s about her being a mom to the amazing Ben, but it’s also more than that. I like it. A lot. It’s fabulous, much like Kelly.

(3) Roger and Abby at the Great Adventure. Not sure whether Roger is really into being lumped into the fabulous category with Abby. Maybe he is? Can dudes be fabulous? Hmmm…don’t answer that. Anyway, this blog is new to me and it’s fabulous and it makes me laugh.  Funny and honest. Good stuff. And they like Vegas, which makes them super fabulous, ’cause Vegas is the most fabulous place on earth. But that’s off topic. There’s a quote in one of their recent posts: “There is your way, and there is God’s way. And your way doesn’t matter.” When I read that the other day, I felt like it might have been written for me. I’m trying to remind myself of that every. single. minute right now. Not easy, but in the long term, I know it’s the truth. Good blog with funny and honest in just the right amounts.

(4) Rachel at Catch the Trade Winds. Love Rachel’s blog. Fabulous.  I’m so far behind, I’m not even sure I can write about her because I’m like 33 posts behind – honest – and I’m not sure what she has shared on her blog vs. what she has shared with me in emails. So I guess the best way to fix that is to read all 33 posts. But I have to finish this post. And I have to read an email she sent me like three weeks ago. I think Rachel started blogging around the time she and her husband were considering VN adoption. Rachel and I initially connected as a result of sharing similar medical histories. I love her blog – it’s all over the place, much like my mind, but unlike my mind, it’s intelligent. And Rachel is funny and interesting. She’s a triple threat.

(5) Karen at Living the Khai Life. Karen is the essence of fabulous. I love Karen and I miss her all of the time. In fact, I miss her so much that I just listened to a voicemail tonight that she left me a while back because I miss her. Creepy, much? As soon as I get myself together enough to get through a conversation with her without crying my eyes out, I will call her and stop being creepy, but until then, creepy it is. Karen’s son is fabulous. Karen’s husband is fabulous. (Again with the fabulous and dude thing.) Karen is an amazing friend, mother, and wife. Karen is so fabulous she sliced her finger off then blogged about it. Does it get any more fabulous? I think not.

My Five Fabulous Addictions:

(1) Purses. Big, fat, horrifying addiction. I’m in recovery, though, and haven’t purchased a handbag in a LONG time, although my mom fed the monster at Christmas.

(2) Sunflower seeds, Diet Coke, and chocolate. I feel like all things that go down the gullet should be lumped together. I’m not sure whether these are fabulous or foul, really, but in my world, they’re fabulous addictions.

(3) The Internet. ’Nuff said.

(4) Uggs. My fabulous addiction that began last winter. I call them Mommy Shoes. I realize I’m about six seasons late and I don’t care.  I’m going to be so sad when winter is over because I won’t even know what to wear on my feet. Whoever thought of making slippers into shoes, then making them socially acceptable, is a freaking fabulous genius.  I’ve worn either brown or black Uggs every day this winter, except for one day, when I wore heels, which I regretted all day. I won’t make that mistake again. Uggs are the essence of fabulous.

(5) Music on XM radio in the car. I don’t know how I survived with FM radio before there was XM. Although it’s going to start losing its appeal, because Mattix is now at an age where we can’t exactly listen to all the XM stations any more, and I see Radio Disney in my future. Fabulous gone bust.