F-Bomb Friday...the Bruce edition

Bug was watching the new Bruce DVD and at one point Bruce says, "Get me an elevator, I'm f^ckin' 60." I didn't realize what the love of my life Bruce said until I noticed Bug laughing and then pushing buttons on the DVD player to hear it again. That's when I heard Bug say:

"Get me an alligator, I'm f^ckin' 60."


Check out MiMi for more F-Bombs.

Wrestle Mania

I swear there’s a point repeated over and over and over again in every three-year-old’s life when he/she increases in strength to an Olympic level. For Bug it happened again this morning.


He didn’t want to get dressed and it became a wrestling match to get the job done. I half expected to hear a play-by-play in the background by a cheesy ring announcer. While there were no pile-drivers or chairs tossed around, I did chase him from one room to another and deflect some kicks. It was neither sport nor entertainment.


After a few time outs, letting Bug pick out the perfect pull-up (sigh...) and select his clothes (it’s an outfit that screams, “My son dressed himself and looks like a leprechaun") and a change of shirts for me wrestling makes a girl sweaty and a quick (second) wash of the morning for me, my three-year-old was dressed...and I was ready to start the day.


And then Bug told me he didn't like my shoes...that hurt.

you know it's a Monday when...

The day starts before 5:30 because Bug wants to see his TV friends AND wants Mommy to sit with him.


Our pooch pooped in the kitchen (in her defense she was very close to the back door so it seems she had every intention of wanting to get outside and had she been taller with opposable thumbs she could have done it).


I gave in and let Bug have a chocolate chip cookie as part of his breakfast because he said, "Mommy, I don't want brefast, I wanna cookie you made" [insert sweet three-year-old's smile here].


It was an Olympic event just trying to get the little guy dressed this morning.


Our sitter called about the time she usually arrives saying the bus is late so can we pick her up at the bus stop.

The only pair of hose I could find have holes from my knees to my thighs so I'm wearing them. Luckily my skirt is long.

Donnie leaves for a trip tomorrow.


My thank you note for dinner at our friends' house has to include an apology for Bug throwing up after dinner. (Or as he says, "my mouth is gonna spill." I've caught on quick to that one.)


"Toot, toot, chug, chug, big red car" is on a continuous loop through my head.


It could be a lot worse but just the same I'm looking forward to Tuesday...

Random Tuesday Thoughts

We were driving to work today and a car darted into traffic from a driveway. Donnie stopped and the car entering traffic stopped with the front half of the car in our lane and then honked at us. The driver then shook his finger at us, pulled up to Donnie’s window, rolled his window down and said, “Slow down, asshole” then called us several other names (which really makes one wake up at the early morning hour) and then pulled away. Um, Mister Friendly, WE had the right of way on the street…YOU were pulling into traffic and trust me we weren't speeding. Sigh…

Favorite recent facebook posting: My nephew is 14 and around 3pm one day he updated his profile to show that he was “in a relationship.” At 7pm that same night another update appeared that he was “single.” Ah, young love.

New favorite Bug-ism: if I tell him something that begins “when I was a little girl” he corrects me, “No, Mommy, you’re funny, you mean when you were a little boy.”

I’m off to see the Black Eyed Peas tonight in a luxury box! (I think this is my first non-Bruce concert in 16 years.) I won tickets at a silent auction to see the Rockettes Christmas Spectacular but the performance was canceled because of the 17” of snow we had that weekend. So…I was offered a choice of other performances and I selected the Black Eyed Peas over the Harlem Globetrotters. I decided to wear a funky dress that I can only describe as my I Dream of Jeannie dress because it would be perfect to wear if Jeannie were hosting a party with her hippie groovy 1970s friends, which would no doubt shock Major Nelson when he arrives home from his astronaut duties.

Go to the UnMom for more.

Terrible Twos into Testing Threes = Mixed-Up Mommy

Enter the Be Darling giveaway here.


When Bug was about 18 months old I thought the terrible twos kicked in. Some moms told me the twos are easy compared to the threes...it's just that no one talks about that.

Here we are snugly in the world of three and I now fully understand what those moms meant. Two had is moments but three seems to have its days and nights. Bug knows more words so I expected communication might be easier but so far that's not the case. Silly me I thought there would be a little bit of reasoning too. (I can hear you laughing...) He also communicates by hitting (luckily, at this point the biting seems to have halted).

Bug can't spend a whole day in time out. Well, actually, he could for the number of times he doesn't listen but that's not effective. It seems Bug has become his very own little version of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. I don't recall the details of the story so I don't remember if Jekyll had warning when Hyde would appear. In our play, which is showing daily nonstop, Mr. Hyde shows up at any time without warning. It might be worth a ticket if any of you miss these days or want to see a meltdown--mine or Bug's--it's often a surprise.

Here's a for instance...we went to the Natural History Museum over the weekend so Bug could see the dinosaurs. We didn't expect to be there long--just long enough for Bug to see a few things, feel like it was an adventure and leave. He had fun...remembered Curious George and Caillou go to the 'zeum, too, and thought it was great. Without prompting, he said hello to several security guards and told them to have a nice day.


As we were leaving, he lost it. Why? Not because he didn't want to go outside and see the snow that was coming down but because we left through the doors marked "EXIT" and not the same doors that we used to enter the museum. (Have I mentioned Bug likes order? He came in THOSE doors so he wants to leave through THOSE doors. That wasn't possible in this case because there are metal detectors and the security guards directed us to the other doors--you know, the ones marked EXIT.)

He screamed on the walk back to the car, which seemed much longer than only a block with the high-pitched vocals (side note: terrific parking spot on a Saturday in downtown DC! Woo hoo!). Many parents gave me smiles hiding their thoughts of "thank God it's not my kid this time."

I know people (parents and children) survive the threes. I've gone to Hallmark stores and seen the cards that say, "Touchdown, Home Run, Score...happy birthday, you're FOUR" and I've seen plenty of four-year-old kids and even older kids and realize they all were three once.

A week or so ago I have proof that Bug listened to something I said. I was in the kitchen and heard Donnie enter the TV room after Bug had confiscated the remote and screwed up the TV. Donnie said, "Dammit." Bug's response in his most serious tone, "Don't say dammit, Daddy. Mommy says that's not nice." A short-lived victory for the etiquette patrol.

Tell me about the days that are to come. You know...the ones about the fantastic fours, fabulous fives, super sixes, sensational sevens, etc. Just don't talk to me about the teen years. I can't think about those yet.

#1 on my Bug's to do list

Replace 'oh dammit' with 'oh goodness' before the grandparents come for a visit in September.

Granted, he's only said it a couple of times I've only heard him say twice and it could be a lot worse, but he certainly said it with gusto.