Growing Up - Triscuit Style

I know I've mentioned that Triscuit is growing up way too quickly. But...you have NOOOO idea just HOW quickly. We've all heard the term "growing like a weed". I think Triscuit has far surpassed "weed" status. I went ahead and took photos comparing his hands and feet to my hands and feet. Remember....we're comparing a (almost) 9 year old to a grown 36 year old woman (who stands at 5'9).


Triscuits hand on top of mine

Triscuits foot next to mine (I know...my feet need some TLC)


Here's the kicker. His face is changing. I look at him and can no longer see any "baby" in him (I know he looks tired...Toblerone has a habit of waking up before the butt crack of dawn. Since he doesn't want to be alone when he gets into everything, he goes and wakes up Triscuit. This has been happening for over 3 weeks now).


I WAS going to take a picture of his shoulders, but I don't think that pictures would do his shoulders justice. Let's just say his shirts (size 10) no longer fit him correctly.


Not only is he growing up physically...be he's growing up in other areas, too. His attitude is changing (and for the most part, not in a GOOD way). He's asserting himself more...which is making him more argumentative. Granted, after a week of being in time out and getting soap for back talking, he's straightening up a bit, but still has his "jerky" moments. And before you yell at me, I DO realize that this is a phase. Unfortunately, he won't be growing out of this phase until he has children of his own. I love him to death and wouldn't trade these moments for the world, but my patience is running thin. There IS some funny in all of this (I'm having to look deeper these days for the funny, but it's still there). We (Weenie and I) have been dealing with this for quite a while with him. I swear, if this kid ever goes out for the debate team, he'll be at the top of the team!

What I'm about to divulge he will more than likely kill me for when he's older, but until then, let's laugh about it.

HYGIENE

Mum: "Triscuit...time for a shower."

Triscuit: "But MOOOM! I took a shower two days ago. I don't need one again...I don't stink!"

Mum: "Have you smelled yourself lately?"

Triscuit: "MOOOM!"

Mum: "NOW, son!"

As Triscuit is showering, Weenie walks down the stairs, wrinkles his nose and says, "It smells like wet boy down here (and if you haven't smelled wet boy, imagine the smell of a wet dog. It's one in the same)." So, I asked Weenie to "please instruct Triscuit how to wash properly". I know some of you are wondering why I didn't instruct him. Well, since I lack certain plumbing, I have NO clue how to instruct him on how to wash "it". I tried to show him once, but after the lesson Weenie gave, apparently, I showed him incorrectly.

I hear Weenie instructing him on how to wash his hair, his pits, his behind, arms, legs, and feet (yes, I instructed Triscuit on these parts, too...but apparently Weenie wanted to give a refresher). Then I hear him instructing him on how to wash "it". Soon, Weenie appears next to me letting me know what happened (this may get embarrassing for some of you not used to talking about parts...but it's a fact of life people....seriously).

Weenie: "While instructing Triscuit, I realized his trepidation on wanting to wash it."

Mum: "Why? I showed him how."

Weenie: *gives me this flabbergasted look* "Ummm, honey? He was using a SCRUBBY to wash it. Do you have any idea how extremely sensitive it is???"

Mum: "I don't have one of "those" honey, I wouldn't know."

Weenie: "Well, do YOU scrub your lady parts with a scrubby?!?!?!"

Mum: *Facepalm* "No, I don't."

Yes. Call me naive, blond and stupid...I don't care. I deserve it after that. What possessed me to show him that way??? If I can't do that, then GUYS sure can't! What was I thinking???

Mum: "Well, you instructed him otherwise, right?"

Weenie: "Yes. I told him to put soap on his hand and make SURE every crevice is washed."

Mum: "How did it go?"

Weenie: "Let's just say, I don't think he'll have a problem washing it anymore."

Lordy. I am SO not ready for THAT phase. I can guarantee you RIGHT NOW when "that" issue arises, I will NOT be the one addressing it.

Gems From Toblerone

Although Toblerone isn't yet four years old, he's smarter and wiser than he SHOULD be. Here are some gems he's come out with recently. The last scenario gives you a peek into my life with my larger-than-life child.
----------------------------------------------------------------------

PEE PEE TROUBLES

Toblerone - "Mom (I am no longer "mommy")? I need thome new shorth."

Mum - "Why? Are they wet?"

Toblerone - "Yeth. I peed in them."

Mum - "Why did you pee in them?"

Toblerone - "Becauthe my body told me that it had to go RIGHT THEN. My pee pee wouldn't lithen to me telling it to wait."

Mum - "Toblerone...your body will start telling you it has to go BEFORE your pee pee doesn't have time to listen...you just need to pay attention to it."

Toblerone - "But, it didn't, Mom. It thnuck up on me and went all by ithelf. It'th a BAD PEE PEE."
------------------------------------------------------------------------

AN UNNATURAL FASCINATION (*hurp*)

Toblerone isn't old enough to wipe his own behind, so it's up to Weenie and I to help him. Unfortunately, every time he goes, we go through a scenario like this one (this one happened today).

Toblerone - (yelling from the bathroom) "Moooooom! I peeewwwpt (seriously, that's how he says it)! Come wipe my buuuuuuutt!"

Mum - *sigh*...."I'm coming. Be there in a minute."

I, begrudgingly, go down the stairs to the bathroom. I see him leaning on the toilet seat with his hands, studying what he's made.

Mum - (fighting back a huge gag) "Toblerone...please stop. That's yucky."

Toblerone - "But look, Mom. It'th big and it thank (sank). And there's (counting)....4 of them!"

Mum - "Good for you...but Mommy doesn't want to look."

Toblerone - "Why (he obviously hasn't picked up on the fact that I can't stand anything fecal)? It'th cooooooool."

Mum - "It's not cool...it's gross. Now, turn around so I can wipe your butt."

Toblerone - (turns around, eyes still on the toilet bowl) "But Mooooom....jutht LOOK at it. *gasp*...One'th FLOATING!"

I couldn't hold back the gag any longer. Good thing I hadn't eaten anything yet.

Mum - "Toblerone...poop makes Mommy feel sick to her stomach. Please....just flush the toilet and pull your pants up."

Toblerone - (Ornery grin) "What color is pewp?"

Mum - "Seriously, Toblerone? You KNOW what color it is...now stop it. You're going to make Mommy puke."

Toblerone - (studying it a little longer)....

Mum - "TOBLERONE! Flush to toilet....NOW."
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

HUNGER PAINS

You all have seen Toblerone. He's a "big boy". Tall, built like a football player (broad shoulders, thick legs)....and has the appetite of one, too. Here's something that hit me like a ton of bricks the other day. Did you know Shaq is 7'1? I thought he was taller than that. Toblerone is supposed to be 7'2! Scared yet? Here's a typical conversation we have about 10 times a day.

Toblerone - "Mooom. I'm huuuungry."

Mum - "When AREN'T you hungry? It's not time to eat yet. Chill out and go drink your juice."

Toblerone - "But Mooooom!!!! *tears start rolling*...I'm REALLY hungry. Pleathe? Can I have a thnack?"

Mum - "No. You just had lunch, son! It's not time for a snack."

Toblerone - "I NEEEED thomethin'. I'm thtarvin'!"

Mum - "Stop and listen to your tummy. Is it really hungry, or are you just bored?"

Toblerone - "I'll go get my OWN thnack. I'm getting Nilla waferth and wowwipopth."

Mum - "Oh no you aren't! You will eat when MOMMY says it's time to eat."

Toblerone - "You're MEEAAN! I'm going to thtarve to death and you don't care!"
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I know that God has given me the children I was MEANT to have. However, He has yet to show me how to DEAL with their needs appropriately. I have one child who I can't get to gain enough weight and one that I can't get to STOP gaining weight. I'm sure you all know me well enough to know that their weight issues are a huge concern for me. Suggestions anyone?

Interesting Stuff From The Mouth Of Triscuit

I've resigned myself to the fact that Triscuit just has a different thinking process than most. Here are some interesting statements made by him over the past few months.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------

Dog Butt Issues

While observing one of our dogs scooting it's butt across the floor (GROSS), Triscuit says this:

Triscuit - "Mom? Why do dogs scoot their butts across the floor?"

Mum - "Because...(he didn't let me finish)"

Triscuit - "Are they trying to vacuum?"
----------------------------------------------------------------------

Future Career

Mum - "Honey? What do you want to do when you grow up?"

Triscuit - "Help Dad with his XBox achievements."

Mum - (laughing) "You can't make a living doing that. You won't get paid."

Triscuit - "But that's what I want to do."

Mum - (I then realized that I should have posed the question a little differently) "What do you want to BE when you grow up?"

Triscuit - "A video game."

*sigh*....I gave up at that point.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------

Phlegm

Triscuit - (Coughing due to a nasty cold)

Mum - "Triscuit! Cover your mouth! That's SOOO rude!"

Triscuit - *Observes a wad of phlegm fly out of his mouth*

Triscuit - (With a huge grin) "Mom! Did you SEE that??? I coughed a booger up FROM MY LUNGS! How is that possible?"

Mum - "When you have a cold, you need to blow your nose instead of swallowing it. Otherwise, it will end up sitting on your chest."

Triscuit - (perplexed look on his face) "How can boogers sit on your chest? They don't have butts."
----------------------------------------------------------------------

Little Brothers

Triscuit - "Mooooom! Toblerone HIT me!"

Mum - "WHY did he hit you? There has to be a reason."

Triscuit - "I wasn't doing aaaanything (yeah, right) and he came over and HIT me. I don't LIKE my little brother. Why did you have to have him?"

Mum - "That isn't nice! How would you like it if Toblerone said the same thing to me about you?"

Triscuit - "He wouldn't. He likes me too much...and I was here first."
----------------------------------------------------------------------

Eddie

Triscuit has this annoying ability to really upset that dog. After yelling at him I don't know HOW many times to leave her alone, she finally hauled off and gnawed on his thumb (it wasn't as bad as he made it out to be).

Triscuit - *CRYING HIS EYES OUT* "She BIT me! I wasn't doing aaaanything, and she BIT me!"

Mum - "HA! I watched you! You were teasing her, RELENTLESSLY! How many times did I tell you to LEAVE HER ALONE! When are you going to learn to listen? If you listened to me to begin with, you wouldn't be in this position, now would you?"

Triscuit - "Mom! YOU said I have to learn things the hard way. So, I was!"
----------------------------------------------------------------------

Braces (I have no one to blame but myself for this one)

At first, Triscuit was really happy to get his braces. Now, the novelty has warn off and he HATES them.

Triscuit - "When am I going to get my braces off?"

Mum - "They said you had to have them for a year, so around Christmas time of THIS year."

Triscuit - "But they're poking my gums and hurting my lips. Aren't my teeth straight enough?"

Mum - "No, honey. You must have them on until you're done. Sorry."

Triscuit - "Well, THAT sucks."
----------------------------------------------------------------------

Life Cycle of Plants (I've saved the best for last)

Mum - "Once a plant makes a seed, fruit will form around it. Birds and other animals eat that fruit, ingesting the seeds. Think this through...if a deer were to eat some wild berries, where would those seeds end up?"

Triscuit - "In their stomachs."

Mum - "When YOU eat, what happens to your food once your body is done with it?"

Triscuit - "*sigh*....do I have to say it?"

Mum - "Ummm...yes. What's wrong with saying it?"

Triscuit - "You don't like it, remember?"

Mum - "I'm a big girl, I can handle it. This is for school and you HAVE to learn this. It's very important."

Triscuit - "It drops it out of it's butt."

Mum - "Or...it POOPS it out...it's alright....you can say poop."

Triscuit - "Drops it isn't as gross."

Toblerone then decides to let one go (perfect timing)

Triscuit - (CRACKING up) "Mom...you may want to see if Toblerone dropped one out of his butt. It sounded like it popped out and hit the floor."

OK...*HURP* gross! Regardless of the terms, poo is poo. Dropped and popped are now on the "things that make me gag" list.

Much Needed Change In Life Begins NOW

My apologies, yet again, for not updating my blog. You'll understand why in a few.

First off, let me update you all on the munchkins.

Triscuit - Triscuit is doing wonderfully, even though he is in need of a doctor visit for a medication increase. He's growing up (too quickly) and with that, his attitude is changing. He seems to have outgrown the touch-me-not stage and has actually asked to have snuggle time with me (snuggle time consists of me sitting on the couch and him laying next to me watching something on T.V.). He's lost a lot of his little boy looks, too (see attached picture). The chiseled features are starting to emerge, his hands and feet are getting bigger, his arms and legs are getting longer and he's even had a few zits over the past few months. The biggest change is, little girls are taking notice of him. Mum isn't liking the last change AT ALL. I knew he was going to be a good looking kid, but seriously girls? He's (almost) NINE... BACK OFF! Don't get Mama Bear mad, or Mama Bear gets all up in your 'bidness.

Toblerone - Toblerone is doing peachy, too. He now stands at 4 feet tall. I thought for sure he wasn't going to hit that mark until AFTER he turns four in June, but he proved me wrong. I'd love to post his weight for you, but honestly? I'm afraid to weigh him. He's a big boy...and I'll leave it at that (You can see what I mean in the picture below). His vocabulary has increased 10 fold and is talking a LOT better (although he still has that cute little lisp). His favorite phrases lately are, "Ooooh man!", "You fail", and "You're getting on my nervth (nerves)". Looks like he's going to be a sarcastic one, as well. Gee...I wonder where they get that trait from?

Weenie - although he's not one of my "munchkins", he IS the father of said munchkins, therefore deserves some blog time. Weenie is doing quite well, too. He's very busy at work (YAY), has grown a beard and mustache (he's never been able to do that...I guess his hormones have finally kicked in) and is currently sick with a nasty cold I managed to pass along to the family. He's been hit the hardest by this cold...probably because he constantly on the move and doesn't take the time to sit and relax. Maybe this cold was a Godsend.

Now, let's talk about the title of my blog.

Things haven't been "rough", so to speak, but we do live far below how we should be living. We're both 36 years old. We rent our home, we have one car and have no health insurance for Weenie and I. This isn't meant for anyone to say, "Oh my goodness! You poor (literally) people!" We've chosen to sacrifice some things so I could stay home with the munchkins (where I SHOULD be). But needs are arising that, no matter how hard we try, we cannot fulfill. Now that both boys are ready to go to a brick and mortar school, where does that leave me? I'm not the type of person to sit around and do nothing. I HAVE to keep busy! I've always loved the medical field. I worked in Pharmacy for over 10 years and in a dialysis clinic for a little over 2 years. But, in the back of my mind, I've always wondered what it would be like to work in dentistry. Over the past few years, it seems as though we've lived at the dental office with all of the work poor Triscuit has had to have done. Through various conversations I've had with his dentist as well as the ladies that work in his orthodontists office, I've made the decision to go back to school to become a dental assistant. Over the past week, I've been accepted into the program, enrolled, and this evening will have all of my financial aid in place to begin night classes on May 3rd. WOOOOT! I am extremely nervous, but at the same time I'm extremely excited! My goal is to be working in an orthodontist office or assisting an oral surgeon. Not only am I doing this for the financial benefit of our family, I'm doing this for ME. I told myself (and Weenie) that when I DO decide to go back to work, I would not enter the work force without having a diploma/certification/degree in hand. For now, I'm doing the 9 month program. Once I'm done with that and obtain a job, I plan on continuing my schooling towards obtaining my degree in applied science.

So, there you have it. Many GOOD changes (much needed changes) are happening in our lives! If you all could keep Triscuit and Toblerone in your thoughts and prayers, I would appreciate it. They both are aware I will be going back to school, but once I actually begin, it's going to be a huge change for them to accept.

Good Lord, Can We Slow DOWN, Please?

I haven't forgotten about my blog...seriously. It's just that life has become even crazier than before (I didn't think that was humanly possible). I've said this before, but as the boys age, life gets more and more hectic. Now that the holidays are approaching, QUICKLY I might add, our daily crazies have increased 7 fold. The boys are fighting more, Toblerone is whining more, Triscuit is spazing out more, and Mommy? Mommy is losing her hair.


Update on Triscuit


Triscuit is doing beautifully in school. He flew through his 2nd grade math in less than a semester. He has now officially been moved up to 3rd grade math. He received his books mid week last week and will be starting it on Monday. We also took him to an orthodontist to get evaluated for braces. He will be getting his braces put on next Wednesday (and yes, I will be posting pictures. I know...I'm so mean). Triscuit now stands at 4'4. I haven't weighed him in a while, but he's eating everything in sight. This morning he had 2 pop tarts and a muffin (the muffins we buy are HUGE). Two hours later, he's hungry again. It's awesome to see him eating so much! Each day that goes by, I see him maturing more and more in every way. His communication skills have greatly improved and he's not having meltdowns nearly as much as before. He'll have a few here and there, but that's only if he thinks he's going to fail at something. He's a bit of a perfectionist when it comes to certain aspects of his little life. Physically speaking, he's getting taller, his face is changing and he's becoming a "little man". I will be searching for an aluminum baseball bat soon. I'm going to need it to keep the girls away!


Update on Toblerone


Forget terrible two's. He didn't go through that...but he IS going through the impossible three's (or throttling three's). Forget trying to help him do anything. Mr. Independent will YELL at you if you even try to wipe his nose. He has suddenly lost his ability to hear right. If I say, "Toblerone! Stay out of Mommy's purse!" He hears, "TOBLERONE! Take everything out of Mommy's purse and spread it all over the house!" He will, deliberately, do the exact opposite of what you are asking/telling him to do. I know this is a phase, but it's an annoying one. Toblerone has, of course, grown too. He's currently standing at 3'11 and weighs 70 lbs. Yes my friends, he's huge! On a very positive note, he is fully potty trained! WOOT! No more diapers! And no, we will NOT be having anymore children (unless God unties my tubes, there isn't a chance in Hades).


One last thing before I go. We have had a change in our dog family. We have officially adopted my sister's dog, Eddie. She (yes, Eddie is a she) is part Chihuahua, part Jack Russell and part little booger. She's a puppy (9 or 10 months old), so Weenie and I have training to put her through. Even though Toblerone is potty trained, my mad skills at helping potty train are still needed (Drat). She's a really good little doggy, but must learn her place. Our 12 year old Pomeranian, Bear, isn't too happy about our addition. He's such an old fart who is stuck in his ways. He isn't thrilled with her puppy-esque enthusiasm, either. He'll often grunt and growl, mean-mug and bare his teeth at her. It's quite funny to watch, yet pathetic at the same time.

Here she is...Eddie.

She looks like a Fennec Fox, doesn't she?

Stitches Are NO Fun!

While making dinner last evening (10/15/09), I was watching the boys play outside through the kitchen window. Triscuit had this (pretending it was a hockey stick),

while Toblerone was riding his scooter. Obviously, this looked like WAY more fun to Toblerone, so he hopped off of his scooter and went running up to Triscuit....at the wrong time. I looked up from grilling my lemon pepper chicken just in time to see Triscuit highstick it and smack Toblerone right in the mouth. The following ensued:

Triscuit: "MOOOOM!!!! It was an accident! It was an accident!!! I swear, it was an accident!"

Toblerone: *Wailing in the background and running around like he was in excruciating pain*

Mum: "Toblerone! Let me see!!!"

There was blood EVERYWHERE. Weird thing was, most of it was IN his mouth...not pouring out of the wound. I KNEW this was more than a normal hit. As soon as Triscuit saw the blood he completely melted down.

Triscuit: "MOOOM!!! HE'S BLEEDING! GET HIM A BAND-AID! MAKE IT STOP!"

Mum: "TRISCUIT! YOU HAVE TO CALM DOWN! The more YOU freak out the more your brother is going to freak out...PLEASE stop screaming!"

Triscuit then disappeared and hid. Poor Triscuit. I couldn't consul him at that moment...I had to get Toblerone inside to assess the damage. When I got the bleeding to subside, I looked and saw THROUGH his lip to his gums and teeth! Crap...this is definitely going to warrant a trip to Urgent Care.

We reach Urgent Care at 5:30pm. There are 3 people waiting and ALL of them are coughing WITH fevers. GRR! I check in and 20 minutes later, he's called back for the initial nurse check.

Nurse: "Step on the scale, honey...we need to see how big you are."

Mum: *Snicker*

Nurse: "Whoa! 66.4lbs! You're a BIG boy! How tall is he, Mom?"

Mum: "3 foot 10 as of last week."

Nurse: "And he's THREE?"

Mum: *Sigh*..."Yes"

Then she starts asking questions...

Nurse: "How did this happen?"

Toblerone: "Tithtan bit me."

Nurse: "What honey? He bit you?"

Mum: "No...his older brother was playing hockey with a hollow metal tube that had plastic ends on it. He highsticked it at the wrong time and he smacked Toblerone in the mouth."

She looked at me...HORRIFIED. She had this condemning look on her face as if to say, "And just HOW did he get a hold of a metal tube?" I just had to brush it off...I wasn't going to feel any worse than I already did.

Nurse: "OK...there is a 90 minute wait before he is seen by the doctor."

Mum: "What? There are 3 people out there! If that's the case, I want to wait outside. There are way too many people out there that are coughing with fevers. I don't want to expose him to something while we are waiting for him to get stitched up."

Nurse: "That's wise. We will come outside and get you when he's ready to be seen."

We go outside and wait. And wait and wait and wait. An hour goes by. Then another hour. Finally, he's called back. We are taken to a procedure room with all sorts of cool things a 3 year old could get into! Gauze, tongue depressors, syringes (w/o the needles), and cotton balls. Toblerone was in HEAVEN.

Toblerone: "Whath thith?"

Mum: "Cotton Balls."

Toblerone: "Why thothe there?"

Mum: "To clean owies."

Toblerone: "Whath thith?"

Mum: "Sticks to hold down your tongue so the doctor can see down your throat."

Toblerone: "Why?"

Mum: "Just in case they have to check your throat for sores or something honey."

Toblerone: "Why?"

OK...I could go on with this little conversation for PAGES and PAGES, but I'll stop there. Eight o-clock rolls around and the doctor FINALLY comes in to see Toblerone.

Doc: "So...you got hit with something, huh big guy?"

Toblerone: "Yeth. Tithtan bit me."

Doc: "What? He bit you?"

Mum: "No. His older brother was playing "hockey" with a metal tube...DON'T ask me WHERE he found it...but he did. He highsticked it and WHAM...hit Toblerone in the mouth."

Doctor: *addressing me* I have three boys...I know what it's like to wonder HOW things happen and just WHERE they find the tools to hurt one another...accident or not. It's a part of life, Mom. No worries...he'll be just fine.

Doctor: *addressing Toblerone* "He's your EX-brother now, huh? Hahahah!!! Just kidding! OK...let me take a look."

He takes out his little pen light and looks at the wound (which looked like this, by the way):

(Gruesome, I know)

Doctor: "Wow...that goes all the way through! Let me check his teeth and gums."

He pulls out a tongue depressor. The SECOND that thing hit Toblerones tongue...the gagging starts.

Doctor: "Eh oh...we have a gagger. Just one more look honey..."

Toblerone: *BIG gag*

Doctor: "OK. Here's the plan of action. I'm going to have to put him on Keflex (Cephalexin) for 7 days since the wound is on/in his mouth and there is a high risk of infection. I'm going to put a topical anesthetic on it so the S-H-O-T won't hurt as bad. I have to warn you...this is going to be a rather emotionally draining experience...so I need your help as much as possible. I have to put 4-5 stitches in his lip. We're going to have to use a "papoose board" to hold him down, so if you could explain to him what that is and what is going to happen, it will help greatly."

Mum: "...I'll do my best."

I'm thinking to myself..."What the H-E-double hockey sticks do you want me to tell him???" But...being that I'm his Mom, I needed to soften the blow and explain what was going to happen so he's not freaked out at the get-go. I decide to take Toblerone on a tour of the room. Thank GOD I have worked in the medical field and have been to the ER enough to know what everything is. I found the papoose board and told him what that was used for. I showed him the thread that was going to be used to stitch up the hole and showed him the cover they were going to put over his face so things would stay clean. He understood...as well as a 3 year old could.

Around 9:00pm is when the real fun began. Toblerone was just fine laying on the table...and even went through 2 papoose boards with no problem (the first one, designed for toddlers, was of course, too small). Then...the needle came out.

Doctor: "Mom...you're going to have to hold his legs...this isn't going to feel good."

I'm holding his legs down...but even I forgot just how strong he was! OOF! He KICKS me in the stomach.

Doctor: "MOM!! You're going to have to put your whole body weight on him....he's a strong one!"

I wanted so badly to scream, "DUH!" but I was still trying to catch my breath from being kicked.

In the meantime, Toblerone is SCREAMING his head off saying, "MAMA!!! It hurts! It hurts! Make him stop! STOP, STOP, STOP!!!" It's so hard to hear your child say those words and not be able to make it better.

What seemed like forever was only 15 minutes of torture. The doc did a bang up job! Don't you agree?

As soon as that doctor said "All done", Toblerone hopped off that table got his shoes on and RAN out the door....not even WAITING for me! After getting Toblerone back into the room, the doctor said the following.

Doctor: "Toblerone...you were a BIG boy for us! Thank you for doing your best and being so brave!"

Toblerone: *gives the doctor the evil eye, then looks at me* "Mama? Leth go...I hungry."

Doctor: "Well...I guess that's that! Hahaha! Mom...you did good, too. With you being a mom to two boys, I'm glad you can stomach these things without too much trouble. You're going to face these kinds of things on various occasions. Just remember, boys will be boys. You can teach them to watch out for others and to be careful, but accidents happen. I hope your oldest isn't too upset. (If he only knew how upset Triscuit really was. Come to find out, he cried on and off the whole time we were gone.)"

After Toblerone drags me out of the Urgent Care office, we head out to Walgreens to get his prescription filled. When we walked in, there was a rather large (tall) African American guy talking on his cell phone to someone while trying to pick out a vitamin. He smiled at us as we walked by. I gave the pharmacist the script for the med and then walked to get Toblerone a chocolate milk. I turn around and the same guy had followed me to the drink coolers.

Guy: "Can I ask you something?"

Mum: "Sure!"

Guy: "How old is your son?"

Mum: "He's turned 3 last June"

Guy: "Ahhh...I thought so. You realize he's going to be a big boy, don't you?"

Mum: "Yes." At this point, I proceeded to explain Weenie's genetic history and how he has 6'8er's way back in the geneology.

Guy: "He may be bigger than that. My nephew was a little smaller than he (Toblerone) was at 3. He's now 7 ft tall and weighs 270lbs."

Mum: Well, at last height calculation, it says he will be 7'2."

Guy: "I believe it. Get him into sports now....he's built for it. Oh...and good luck!"

Hmmm....I wonder what he meant by good luck? I know I've said this before, but should I start body building now to keep up with him? Honestly...how do you parent a child that is going to be a foot and a half taller than you??? Seriously! Leave a comment...because I'm open for suggestions!

Now that all is said and done, I can (from experience) say stitches are no fun...for either child or parent. A little advice to other mom's reading this. Unless you are an emotional Hercules, try to take your significant other or another adult with you if you have to get stitches for your little ones. It's emotionally draining...and in MY case...it was physically draining, as well!

Santa's Not REAL???

Each parent/set of parents are different when it comes to Santa Claus. Some parental units don't want their kids to believe in Santa...because it takes away from the true meaning of Christmas...Jesus' birth. Some parental units allow the belief in Santa as well as teaching that Jesus is the real reason for Christmas.

This issue was a small source of contention between Weenie and I when Triscuit was smaller. Weenie didn't want Triscuit to focus on Santa...he wanted Triscuit to understand WHY we celebrate Christmas, and Santa wasn't it. But, because I wasn't allowed to believe in Santa Claus when I was little, I felt I missed out on all the fun. When I was smaller, I remember laying awake on Christmas Eve listening to every noise...just HOPING to hear a sleigh bell or a "thump" on the roof. I even remember looking out my window up towards the sky to see if I could catch Santa's sleigh flying over the house. I wanted SO badly to prove my parents wrong! As I grew older, I understood why my parents did what they did. I understood the point. But, when I finally became a mom, I realized that I had a VERY valid point, too. Your children get just ONE shot at childhood. Santa represents love, goodwill, giving and teaches youngsters to be on their best behavior! Santa is a part of growing up. So, let your kids be kids and have fun! With a little explaining and persuading, Weenie caved in. We started the Santa ritual when Triscuit was about 3 and oh, how we had fun with it! This past year had to have been the best one. Weenie had gone out and bought a bunch of Transformers action figures. He got them out of the package and set them up on the living room floor, as if they were having a battle. It was GREAT! Triscuit came down all wide eyed and excited! Just as I had hoped, he had lied awake for a while on Christmas Eve...listening for noises and questioning how Santa was going to get into the house, since we didn't have a fireplace.

Unfortunately, as with every child, they grow up (and too quickly). Weenie has been wanting to tell Triscuit for the past few months about Santa's mortality. Because I'm the typical mother, I wanted just ONE more year. To tell a child that Santa isn't real is forcing us mom's to come face to face with the realization that our children are growing up. I kept putting Weenie off, telling him, "Let me think about the best way to tell him", just hoping Weenie would get the fact I didn't want to let Santa go. Well, our niece B-Boo accidentally let the cat out of the bag.

While the kids were out back playing last evening, the conversation turned to Santa. B-Boo told Triscuit that Santa was a myth. And, as you can probably guess, Triscuit was rather upset. He came in from outside and said,

Triscuit - *Tears in his eyes* "Mooom! B-Boo said Santa was a myth!"

Mum - "Uhhh...Weenie?!?! You need to have a talk with Triscuit."

Weenie - "About what?"

Mum - "Santa."

Weenie gets this rather pleased look on his face, grabs Triscuit and takes him outside to talk to him. Apparently things went better than I had hoped. Weenie comes in from outside LAUGHING.

Mum - "Did everything go OK? Why are you laughing?"

Weenie - "Oh yeah. He understood. You want to know what his main concern was?"

Mum - "What?"

Weenie - "While explaining to him that you and I are really Santa, he said, 'Then, can YOU guys get me the toys I want?'"

I think Triscuit was ready to let Santa go (even if Mommy wasn't)....just as long as he still gets the loot. TYPICAL KID!

Hey...at least I still have Toblerone. I just need to make sure Triscuit gets caught up in the fun of playing Santa. This year, I'll be taking Triscuit out Christmas shopping...just the two of us. I'll let him pick out the toys for Toblerone, let HIM set up the toys in the living room, stuff the stockings and write the note from "Santa". Hopefully, Triscuit won't be naughty and tell Toblerone too early. I think letting Triscuit do this for his little brother will help ensure he does the same for HIS kids when he grows up.