First of all sorry about missing the beginning of the week blog wise. I got my days mixed up and thought Monday was Sunday and Tuesday was Monday – but on the plus side, I got lots of sleep!
Onward HO!
I am SUPER hesitant to post this post today. Technically, as I write this it is March 31st, but most of you, if not all, will be reading this on April First. April fools day. This post was SUPPOSED to be written four weeks from now, at the beginning of may. (Actually, on May second, my dads birthday) BUT Micah someone screwed the fuck up, calendar wise, and let the cat out of the proverbial bag. Also, our kids are pretty much screwed when it comes to knowing the date.
Anyone who has kids, or even knows about kids, KNOWS that until something is a certainty, kids should be kept in the dark and NOT told anything. Hence my big plans for May.When things were more…certain.
However, as much as I HATE the timing of this post, now that the kids know, we felt it important to tell our respective parental units the news too. I might be a dick, but I am not a big enough dick to make my dad read my important life updates on my blog. AND. Since my dad, stepmother (not the evil variety) my cuz Kristy and a billion other assorted relatives read (and comment on) this blog, I wanted to make sure I was the one to tell you our news. Despite the craptacular timing.
We are due at the end of September.
We are also 1. Hoping for another boy and 2. Currently investigating our legal options because BOTH of us were “fixed”
And yes. I know! It’s April Fools Day. HAHA jokes on you right?
WRONG.
I’m sorry my hair isn’t done, I had just gotten out of the bath. And I’m sorry my room isn’t clean. I sleep a lot. (picture under the fold) Read More »
this post was specifically created for you Tug!
About six months ago I wrote an angst filled post about how Logan was small. Very small. I’m not going to link to that post because it is somewhere buried in my archives and I am very very lazy. I also do not think my blog comes equipped with a search function, and if it does, I haven’t found it. Ahnyway. He seemed to not be growing, and I was worried. For heaven’s sake! He was wearing sized 12 month to size 2 pants!
Well no more people!
See, today I went to his room with him to get him some clothes. It was four PM and he had plans for the evening, can’t exactly send him out on the town in just his skivies! Also, isn’t there some sort of law that says a kid cannot have a more exciting social life than his parents? AHNYway, I tossed a pair of pants at him and sat on his bed and waited for him to get dressed.
And guess what!
Mr. man’s size two’ no longer fit him!
And becuase I am a BAAA BAAA BAAAA sheep, I decided that I needed to recycle his old blue jeans. Look at me saving the environment, one pair of pants at a time!
This is Smokey. She Likes Carrots. A lot. She also likes cat poop, but I refuse to hand feed her that. She can go dig up her own feline tootsie rolls! I know. I’m mean. But I had to draw the line somewhere.
But that’s not all. Smokey is also a talented weather forecaster. It’s true. Twitter told me so when I asked if dogs “knew things” about the earth, nature and weather before us humans did.
So this evening, when my husband convinced smokey to hop into the tub for a brushing, I was ecstatic to see this. (This being the beginning of Smokey shedding her winter coat.)
And warmer weather must be just around the corner from the size of that pile!
Just to help you visualize, Sam is here to help you with a little size comparison. She’s helpful like that. She is also terrified of large piles of fur and had to be bribed with several cheerios to not run screaming from the tub.
I don’t give a damn that it was nearly -20 today, spring has sprung people.
Dogs know about these things.
So. My day was going pretty good….. And then I drove to the school to pick Logan up from pre-k. You might remember me telling you about Logan?
He’s the one who is four.
And in pre-k.
So I got to the school, and Logans’ teacher, a VERY stylish young woman – I’m talking two inch heeled, knee high boots, never a hair out of place, dressed to kill – hands my four year old son over to me and then says “Oh dear, Logans’ mom… We need to talk”
I say “My name is Shannon” and wait for her to continue. Instead she takes me by the arm and says” Lets talk over here, out of the way“, while leading me to the quartet of grey chairs that sit right beside the pre-k door. The same door moms and dads are walking out of as they pick up their kids.
So we sit.
I was quiet, Logan is, I think, a reasonably well behaved kid, but he is only four, so you never know. Eventually, Ms. Teacher explains to me that “We have a problem”. It seems that Logan is picking his nose at school.
I stayed quiet, waiting for her to get to the heart of the matter, did he maybe get his finger stuck in his nose today and they wanted me to know? I mean, I was once pulled aside to be told that “Logan dropped his shoe today and seems very sad about it”. Or maybe he was chasing the girls around with a booger on his finger?
Strangely. Ms. Teacher was quiet too. Almost as if she was waiting for me to say something. I quickly thought back, maybe I missed something she had said? Hmm. Nope. So far the only issues is that Logan, who is four, has been picking his nose.
“Uhm.” I tell her. “He’s four. His finger fits in there?” Quite frankly, I do not understand the problem at hand. I mean, yeah, boogers are gross and, yeah, he should use a Kleenex, but dude. He’s four.
Obviously I an not understanding the depth of the problem here because Ms. Teacher explains to me that he does it during center time. And story time. And even snack time. I tell her “He picks it at home too“. Maybe that will make her feel better. Less singled out for nasal activity, if you will.
And I’m still not understanding. I mean, dude. He is four. All four year old spend a good portion of the day digging for gold, and if you tell me yours doesn’t, you are a liar!
So I just sat there. Unsure of what she wanted me to say about his rampant nose picking. And I sat there as she told me it was an – her words, not mine - an obsession, that it’s now a social issue, and, was I aware that he was going into kindergarten next year (Let’s just pause here -WTF? Of course I know he us going to kindergarten next year! Who the hello does she thing signed him up for it? There is no kindergarten fairy people!!) And then I sat there some more, making non-committal noises as she explained that Logan was “Skating on thin ice” with his nose picking, and I sat there, silent, as she asked me what plans I had in mind to curtail his very nosy activities. I sat there, half disgusted and half trying not to laugh outright as she told me that today he wiped a booger on the circle time mat.
I sat there wondering. Dude. He’s four. FOUR. You have a child who wears diapers in your class.You have a child who kicks, pushes pinches, and chokes the other students and you are telling me MY son, who is FOUR, is in trouble over a booger? (or several boogers as the case may be)
Really?
Have you tried maybe offering a Kleenex? Or asking him if he needed help getting that stuck boogie out?
And at first, when I got home I was mad. I was shaking. I wanted to yell and scream and HIT something. MY little snot monster is in trouble, while the child who makes MY son cry, and beg me not to take him to school because T will hurt him is there and is free to run and kick at his leisure?
Instead. I told my Father In Law. I called my sister. I called my neighbor. I talked to my husband and I called my Step Mother (not the evil variety). And you know what? With each telling of the nose picking saga, the less mad I got. In fact. Each time I had to tell someone, the story got funnier. Because DUDE. HE.IS. FOUR. It’s his nose! Let him pick it.
As for the so called Social issues, well duh. In kindergarten, Logan is going to be sitting beside the boy who eats paste digging for golden treasure, and a cute little blond, blue eyed girl is going to look over, see him lost in the wonders that is his nasal cavity and say “EWWW! Logan! That’s GROSS!” and that will be that. From then on out Logan will be like each and every one of us who run to the washroom or hide behind a Kleenex, when all we really want is the freedom to dig in, retrieve our prize and admire it the same way any four year old does.
