Scene: TD and I are headed out the door. As we climb into the car TD spies a displaced plastic container lying in the grass nearby. It is filled with trash despite being casserole size. TD: "Momma? Why is that plastic container lying over there? What is it doing? Is it trash?" She says as she climbs into her car seat.V: "Yes, it is trash. I don't know why it's there, but it shouldn't be." I say, reaching for her safety belts and fastening them.TD: "Why? Because it will hurt the earth?" She looks perplexed. V: "Yes, trash does hurt the earth. Very good!" I am a bit stunned but beaming and proud.TD: "Momma, when I grow up I am going to be a trash doctor so that the earth won't be hurt." She sits back in her car seat, satisfied with this proclamation.Ugh. My heart seized then … [Read more...]
Overheards- Nipple Cups
Scene: TD is peering into my dresser drawer as I rifle through it looking for the right bra.TD: Momma, when I grow up bigger we can share nipple cups with each other!Definition: Nipple Cups- A bra. At least she no longer refers to them as "nitnils". … [Read more...]
Overheards- The Sitter
Scene: TD is playing quietly on the kitchen floor. H and I are rounding up the kids and gear to head to the local farmer's market.H: Come on TD, it's time to put your shoes on and go to the farmer's market.TD: (Audible sigh) I don't want to go... can't you just hire a sitter for me? Ah, she is so smart. She's already figured out a way to get out of tedious errands. She was clearly forgetting the tasty treats (Pumpkin bread! Fresh fruit! Kettle Corn! Gelato! Italian Cream Cake!) that always accompany the farmer's market. It's what gets me out the door each time. That and cheap produce. Need a babysitter? The best local sitters are at Sittercity.com. Save 15% on registration with promo code SAVE15 … [Read more...]
Overheards- I am the Dog
Scene: The dinner table. Me: "Ooh, Comedian you look so much like your Daddy!"TD: "I look like my Daddy too! And you (pointing at me with her little plastic fork with much conviction), you look like the dog!"H doesn't even try to stifle a laugh.So what, this means I look like some white-muzzled, crotchety old Boston Terrier? That's just great.Later that night H cannot resist petting me and saying, "Good dog, Vicky. Good dog." (Insert snickering from H here.) When I tell him I'm going to kick his teeth in he simply replies, "Nice doggie. Be a good dog." It continues like this for ten more minutes complete with jokes about no treats and being put in my cage for not listening.And I wonder why I am having an identity crises.The whole time this was happening all I could think of was this scene … [Read more...]
She Thinks She’s Jesus
TD walks into the room, beaded Mardi Gras style necklaces draped diagonally across her body and says, "Look, Mommy! I'm Jesus." The scene repeats itself over and over again on the stairs and in other rooms in the house. Daily.Then earlier this morning she was having a conversation with her little friend, Wagee. When I say little I mean it. Wagee is an ant that made its way into our kitchen and TD has been trying to take Wagee all over the house. Mainly though they hang out in a corner of the kitchen. As if the Jesus thing wasn't starting to weird me out a tad this whole, tiny pest-like friend in the kitchen thing positively wreaks of memories from a certain dead pop star and his childhood friend, Ben. Shall I remind you people that Ben was a rat. What's next? An oxygen tank in her … [Read more...]
Notes from the Road
Queue the ridiculously bad and entirely inappropriate except for the song title Barry Manilow song, 'Looks Like We Made It' The girls and I had hit the road yesterday around 4:30 a.m. Typical of TD to stay awake for the whole drive and consume her weight in goldfish crackers while watching 'Bolt' two times in a row before screaming, "I just cannot watch Bolt again!"To the woman at the Woodrow Wilson rest stop with the white fluffball of a dog: Thanks for telling me my kids are so well cute and well-behaved and all. However? So not cool to then dash into the bathroom ahead of us and take the only handicap stall. Thus leaving me, one antsy toddler and The Comedian in a baby carrier car seat to squish ourselves into a Jersey Turnpike single person bathroom stall. I like being close to my … [Read more...]
About an Hour in My Day
11:38 a.m.- "Come on TD, we have to get a move on! It's time to go to Gymboree!" I glance at The Comedian and think, "I should change you...." and I scoop her up out of the Bumbo.11:39 a.m.- "WTF? Oh all that is holy in this world, why now?! Seriously kid? This is disgusting!!" I moan. "What's disgusting, Mommy?" TD asks. "Your sister. She just pooped EVERYWHERE! I don't even know if I'm qualified to clean this type of mess up. I might need to make a few phone calls..."11:41 a.m.- Poop. It is everywhere. I quickly move from the pack and play to the nursery. The shirt cannot be salvaged. Neither can the burp cloth I have laying on the changing table. I have already used about a days worth of wipes in the last two minutes. We don't have time for the tub. This is totally an … [Read more...]
Drunk
"What's drunk?" TD asked startling me. While she had been upstairs napping I was taking advantage of the quiet time to get in an episode or two of 'Freaks and Geeks'. Apparently she had been in stealth mode and watching the show with me for a bit. Wonderful, I thought. She's three and already I'm having the conversation with her about drinking. I tried my best to explain that being drunk is when grown-ups sometimes drink too much wine or beer. It isn't good for them and we should never, ever get into cars with drunk people. EVER. To go into more detail than that would have been over her head. Right?She looked at me, smiled and said, "Daddy has too much beer and then he is drunk! Then I have too much juice and then I am drunk!" Thank goodness school is done for the year because I … [Read more...]
You Can’t Blame a Girl for Trying
This is a Blackberry.This is a Calculator.They are not the same thing. While a calculator can help you balance your checkbook and spell HELL and BOOBS on it, it cannot send email or tell all your Facebook friends that your status is "very tired" or "incredibly bored." (Incidentally, can we all just take a minute to admit that we are all only using Facebook to look at pictures of people from high school?) A calculator also cannot help you Twitter to all your tweeps that your cat Mr. Widdlesworth is recovering nicely from his gall bladder surgery, thank you very much. That right there is as interesting as when I talk about The Comedian's teething. Scintillating-up-to-the minute tweeting for sure.Someone needs to tell TD all this though because she keeps toting around the calculator and … [Read more...]
What Would You Do for Cupcake?
Meet Cuppy.Cuppy apparently turned two yesterday.After a spin on the Disney circuit sharing top billing with a certain Ms. Lohan, years of being a flat Stanley type character in my life, doing hard time in a box in storage, Cuppy got paroled last year and has now found a home in the heart of TD. But Cuppy has not gone completely straight yet. She whispered a little magic in TD's ear yesterday and told her it was her second birthday. It was time for a celebration TD declared.Cuppy needed cupcakes too. How convenient! We just happened to be at the grocery store.So there you have it. Happy Birthday you sneaky little Cuppy. I'm on to you too TD. I know only too well just what lengths a girl will go to for a cupcake fix. … [Read more...]