Live and Learn

When you're a parent, packing for any kind of vacation/trip can seem like a daunting task. No matter how many lists I put together, how far in advance I start laying things out, how many run-throughs I do on the day we're leaving, I'd bet money that we will get 2 blocks away and realize that I've left something behind. It makes me wonder...I'm pretty sure Brad questions my sanity. Having said that, there are a few redeeming moments in parenthood. Times where a sliver of insight turns out to be the best thing possible.

Case in point: We headed out to Sanibel Island this past weekend, a place we've been to many times. We love it there--calm, quiet, peaceful...and seashells as far as the eye can see. For just a quick weekend trip, we threw some clothes in the suitcase and some sunscreen in the beach bag. For whatever reason, I thought to grab Ben's inner tube--the one he uses for swimming in the pool. I stood in the living room, holding the inner tube, knowing full well that we would not be near a swimming pool at all during the trip...but something--call it maternal instinct, a mother's intuition--told me to pack it anyway.

Fast forward 12 hours and we're in coastal paradise, unloading our chairs/umbrella/buckets...and the inner tube. Brad and Ben set off to build a sand castle and I assumed my normal Sanibel-position...hunched over, looking for shells. (Uh, sidenote--this is NOT an easy task when you're in your third trimester. Just sayin'.) About 30 minutes later, the boys were hot and wanted to hop into the water to cool off. So, I asked Ben if he wanted to try and wear his tube. I gave him 5 minutes, tops, with keeping that thing on. Not that it's uncomfortable, but we weren't in a pool--it was the ocean. Again...fast forward about an hour and a half...

...the kid was in heaven. He swam, came back on shore, turned around and went right back out. In total, he (and Brad) probably spent a good 2-1/2 hours in the ocean that afternoon. (I, of course, assumed another position on the shore...wildlife watchdog--I was convinced that if I didn't keep an eye out, the 2 loves of my life would be eaten by a shark...but that's another blog post entirely.)

Anyway, I still don't know what made me grab that inner tube before leaving our house and hitting the road...but my point is this: I am that much wiser for the next trip.

Every once in a while, amidst the frazzled craziness of being a road-tripping parent, you have a shining moment where you feel like the most brilliant--borderline psychic, even--genius on the planet...a moment where you think to yourself, "hey--I'm not such an idiot after all."

And then you realize that you left your flat iron on and you have to turn around anyway.

Well that's just silly...

I can now say that I know what my mom was thinking when my sister and I came home BEGGING for slap bracelets...

"WTF is the big deal?" (Although I'm pretty sure that 'WTF' wasn't a popular acronym back in the 80s and I'm DEFINITELY sure my mom has never thought the 'F'.)

Anyway...back to my point. A fad is a fad is a fad...and when it comes to kiddie fads, they normally don't make any sense. From the pet rock to the Furby to this past year's Zhu Zhu pets, who really knows why certain things become the obsession of millions of children everywhere?

And we have officially been invaded by Silly Bandz.

Ben first brought one home from school--I think it was an orange goat-looking rubber band--and I honestly had no idea what it was. Then began the fixation on rubber bands. I thought he was talking about regular rubber bands, but oh no--that's not what he wanted. So, I picked up a box of colored rubber bands. Fail...again.

Then came the note from the teachers at school: "Please leave all silly bands at home--they are a distraction to students. Thanks!"

What ARE these silly bands?! I started seeing signs--at cash registers and then on the marquee in front of Walgreen's: "WE HAVE SILLY BANDZ!!!" I swear they must have used up all the exclamation points for this announcement. The local toy store is even holding a Silly Bandz trading event. I'm pretty sure it will be packed.

I still don't really understand the fascination...but I picked up a pack of them for Ben. When I gave them to him in the car, congratulating him on having several days at school with "good choices", his face lit up...see above. He even slept with all 12 of them on his wrist that night.

I'm sure this is just the first of many fads I will have to endure as a consumer-parent...and I'm sure it won't be the last time I shake my head, mutter "I don't understand why you want this" under my breath, and just pay the lady behind the counter.

Squirmy Wormies

Well, I think I officially had my "Oh my gosh I'm the mother of a little boy and that can be really gross sometimes" moment the other day after picking Ben up at school...

He proudly opened his lunchbox to show me what he and a classmate, Claire had discovered under the picnic table after lunch that day...

Worms.

I quickly recoiled, but thought that I shouldn't visibly overreact because I don't want him to be as afraid of creepy crawlies as I am--he's a boy, after all! He should be coming home with dirty fingernails and scrapes from playing in the dirt...right?

So, I displayed a jaw-clenched grin and said, through my gritted teeth, "That's great, bud! Uh...what should we do with them?"

"I want to take them home and feed them!" Duh.

I quickly closed the lunchbag flap and instructed him to keep it that way--the last thing I, or any other driver in Orlando, needed was me behind the wheel with worms crawling all over the inside of my immaculately clean car. ;-)

After the short trip home, Ben carried his new pet carrier into the house and we headed out to the backyard. I grabbed a jar--you know, one of those old-timey jam jars that have the metal lid with the other metal ring that screws in over it? (What? I'm from North Carolina--of course I have jars. What else would I drink my moonshine out of?)

We filled up the jar with some potting soil and I grabbed some saran wrap so we could close these critters in but still give them an oxygen supply. Ben dug down in his lunchbag and pulled out a handful of worms...and they weren't moving. :-(

"Uh...babe--I don't know if they made it..."

"Sure they did, Mommy!" How, I ask you, could I crush his dream of keeping these as pets? We've already crushed his dream of having a dog for now--he's convinced he's getting a puppy instead of a new brother or sister...

So, I just put on my best Mommy-will-fix-everything smile and said, "Well, let's just poke some holes in the top of the plastic wrap and I'm sure they'll be fine." Ben took the jar inside the house, and we got him ready for bed.

The next morning, he had forgotten about them and we headed off to school. After getting home, he quickly ran over to the jar and looked at them, puzzled.

"Mommy! They're growing hair!"

For the first time, I took a good look at our new "housepets"...

They were moldy spaghetti noodles.

They'll be "moving" to the compost pile tonight...but the real question is this--what kid brings noodles to school for lunch??

On the road again...

Anyone who knows us can tell you this: we like to travel. It's who we are. Our families are in NC and Ohio, so most of our vacation time is spent heading to either the state that was first in flight or the other state that claims to be the birthplace of aviation. ;-) Although we normally fly, it sometimes works out better to just hop in the car and make the 8+ hour trek to the Tar Heel state. This past weekend was Ashley's graduation from UNCC, so Friday afternoon, we loaded up the Jetta and hit the open road.

Now, in days past, I could easily make the drive in 8 hours flat, with one quick stop to fill up on diesel fuel and to get some snacks. After Brad came into the picture, it became a struggle to keep up with that time--I mean, seriously? Who needs to stop twice in 8 hours to pee?!? Well, enter a potty-trained 3-year old who luuuuuuvs to drink water. 8 hours behind the wheel and we're still in freakin' South Carolina. This kid is really cramping my driving style.

In all sincerity, we are truly lucky that Ben is as good in the car as he is. He doesn't have to have the DVD player on--he would mostly prefer to color or just look out the window. And have snacks....with water. So, when we were just north of Columbia, SC, I saw the crotch-grab and heard those dreaded words..."Mommy--I have to pee pee." (Am I a horrible mother for rolling my eyes and asking him if he's serious? We're already making terrible time here...)

Next exit on the right, there was one lonely Exxon station in the midst of gravel and rows of corn. Brad took him in with the preemptive pep talk about only going in there to use the bathroom and no, there will be no purchase of candy, toys, etc. As I was sitting in the driver's seat, I saw Brad's head in the window as he approached the door...and no Ben in sight. Come to find out, he was distracted by the NASCAR keychains--who wouldn't be? Brad reminded him that we were only there to pee...but then...there is was.

THE Shooter Gun Jelly Beans.

Ben calls every gun a "shooter gun" and apparently this was a toy gun with jelly beans inside. I didn't see it with my own eyes, but when Brad finally dragged Ben away from it, kicking and screaming, through tears and sobs, Ben told me it was a Shooter Gun Jelly Beans and you could literally shoot jelly beans into your mouth. Awesome.

We finally got him settled down and arrived safely in NC at my parents for Ashley's graduation weekend. But we hadn't heard the last of the SGJB. I saw the perfect opportunity for a bribe--I mean, reward for good behavior...Ben had to sit through Ashley's graduation ceremony and if he was a good listener for the rest of the weekend, we would stop to get the SGJB on the way back to Florida.

The end of our trip rolled around, and by then, the whole family had heard about this amazing gun that shoots candy into your mouth. We packed the car, said our goodbyes, and headed south back to the Sunshine State.

I thought I remembered which exit it was. Through my highly-sharpened detective skills, I recalled that we stopped right before a rest area south of Charlotte--I remembered this because I had thought to myself "if you had just waited a few more miles, there would have been a toy-free rest area for us to use"...

Well, we were coming up on an exit, and I just knew it was the one. BUT...I had 2 tractor trailers to my right and 2 sleeping boys in the backseat. I only had a few seconds to deliberate...and I kept on driving. I quickly regretted my decision, got hot and nervous...and looked for a way to make a U-turn to go back. Alas, there wasn't one.

As soon as Ben woke up, he had to use the bathroom. Perfect--we'll stop and I'm sure they have some crappy--I mean, AMAZING--toys with candy. Thumbs down. But they did have chips. Success...kind of.

Ben then enlightened us on exactly what we were questing for and where we could find it...the SGJB could be found at, and I quote, "the pee pee store." I guess that all those times we stopped at gas stations to "go pee pee" have taken their toll on him...and he now associates gas stations with urination. So, they are now Pee Pee Stores and you can buy Shooter Gun Jelly Beans there.

We regained our composure after laughing hysterically--WITH him, not AT him--and got back on 95. Next stop? Dinner. Brad ran in to the Pee Pee Store while we went through the conjoined drive-thru. Thumbs down.

One last chance...we were just south of Jacksonville and Ben had to make one last pit stop. At this point, it had become my maternal mission to find this damn SGJB. We ran in to the gas station, Ben was holding himself and crossing his legs because he was about to wet his pants...but, by God, we were going to see if they had it. And...they did!! Granted, it wasn't the same exact one he saw a few days earlier--this one shoots bubbles and has gumballs, and Brad swears it's way cooler--but who gives a crap?! We found it!!



Ben was happy and all was right with the road-tripping world...we didn't have to stop at any more Pee Pee Stores and we made it home...after 9 hours and 23 minutes.

May the 4th be with you...

In honor of the unofficial holiday of George Lucas fans everywhere, I have decided to dedicate this post to the one...the only...Star Wars empire.

How, you may ask, can I possibly have a Star Wars post on a "Mommy Blog"? Here's how.



Ben is already obsessed with Star Wars. So much so that he wants a wipe sader. (I'll give you a second to translate on your own.) A green wipe sader.

I don't quite understand how some things are just inherently part of a boy's little world--turning an ordinary stick into a gun, gravitating towards a muddy puddle in an otherwise clean driveway, and automatically knowing that R2D2 says "beep boop" and that Darth Vader has a red light saber--sorry, wipe sader.

It just baffles me...but it makes Brad soooo proud.

In the Eye of the Beholder

By now, you all know that Ben finds a direct correlation between princesses and dresses...and I have to admit that I love that even in a maternity dress he still thinks I'm beautiful...well, sometimes he does.

We were watching TV last Saturday morning (shocker) while Brad was out playing golf, and a commercial for Playtex 18-hour bras came on. Ben was walking towards his train table in the next room when he stopped to stare at the TV [insert brake-screeching halt here]. I paused, skeptically waiting to see how/if he would react to the scantily clad, well-endowed woman on the screen. And he did.

"Ooo, Mommy--I like that."

Uh...how to react how to react what to say what to say...?

"Uh...bud? What do you like about...it?"

He simply said, "She's beautiful."

Well, this just blows the theory that only princesses in dresses are beautiful, but whatever. That was all that was said, so I figured we were finished with that semi-awkward and fully-hilarious parent/exploratory-child interaction.

And then a Diurex commercial came on. You know which one I'm talking about? There is a blond woman, during that 'unfortunate time of the month' who can miraculously fit into her skinny jeans, thanks to the anti-water weight pills...you're amazing Diurex!

"Ooo, Mommy--I like her." (You knew it was coming)

So, I asked again--now incredibly curious as to my son's standard of beauty--I mean, this lady had her clothes on, so what made her so pretty?

"She's beautiful."

I then began to question my own beauty, so I went out on a limb, assuming I knew the sweet answer.

"Hey, bud--is Mommy beautiful?"

He took one look at my Piggly Wiggly t-shirt and pink Soffe shorts and gave me the negative headshake. Well, crap.

But fear not, fair readers. We were getting ready to go to the bank later that morning so I grabbed a stretchy-waisted skirt and was getting ready to change into a t-shirt that didn't have dried chocolate ice cream on it and Ben saw me in my room...and gave me these priceless words of encouragement, complete with a thumbs-up.

"You're almost beautiful, Mommy!"

Almost only counts in hand grenades and horseshoes, kid. Thanks for nothin'.

My son, the Pick Pocket

I'm apologizing in advance if you are the owner of any of these items. If you are, just let me know and I will gladly return them to their rightful owners.



Having said that, I find it quite amusing that Ben has accumulated this little collection. Note: I am not, in any way, shape or form, encouraging thievery...nor am I making excuses for my child...but I really don't think he's necessarily stealing these things. He's simply finding them...and placing them safely in his pocket until he gets home rather than turning them over to the proper authorities.

I first noticed this little "problem" when I would find tiny plastic beads...he calls them "gold" and is quite proud of his shiny little treasures. It didn't take long to figure out that these belonged to some sort of craft lesson at school. (Again, Ms. Cathy and Ms. Monique...I apologize and will be returning them to you immediately.) I thought that maybe he was just finding them and pocketing them...but then came the hair accessories.

The first barrette was one of those little plastic ones that look like a bow. (It's not pictured above--Ben probably swiped it again.) The second one seems like someone might really miss it--it's obviously a birthday bow, complete with a plastic slice of cake, nice purple ribbon intertwined with another white ribbon that has now faded but used to say "Happy Birthday!" I feel really bad about this one, so if you or someone you know is missing this bow, speak up.

Then there's the shiny silver pencil. I mean, looking at it, I can see how it would be hard to resist. And the tiny tea kettle? Who wouldn't want one of those?

I have to give my son props for recognizing the value in a Carolina blue, plastic wristband...although I was unaware that Friendship Week needed its own mass-produced accessories...regardless, he picked this one up at a playground, too, along with a random screw...I'm just hoping that screw wasn't holding a swingset together...

The latest addition to the stash is a random earring that Ben found on the playground with Ms. Monique. He asked me why I haven't worn it yet. I didn't really have the heart to tell him that I just didn't want some random person's ear fungus...so I made the mistake of telling him that I couldn't wear just one earring--I needed the pair...duh. (As soon as I said it, I realized that his mission now will be to find me another earring to wear with it. Ladies, protect your earlobes...)

So, while I never know what Ben will come home with in his little pockets, I have to be thankful that at least it's not as bad as Brad leaving his permanent markers in his pockets--I'd rather find a plastic green bead in the bottom of the washer because that won't ruin my favorite pair of Nike Dri Fit golf shorts...