Update...on Life

I must apologize, yet again, for neglecting my blog. This time, I have very valid reasons.

Reason Number 1 - Mum is in school

I have made it to class every single flippin' day that classes are scheduled. I have also managed to maintain an A+ average! Studying, studying, and more studying, makes it difficult to sit down and find time to blog (also updating Facebook/Twitter is much quicker than blogging). So, those of you that follow me on blogspot should find me on FB (if you're interested, let me know and I'll tell you my real name). School is going beautifully and I'm loving almost every minute of class (with the exception of the current class I'm taking..."Administrative Procedures").

I have gotten used to my instructor and his sense of humor. Imagine, if you will, a person with a laid back temperament, sarcastic sense of humor, and the tolerance of a saint...who was in the U.S. Army for 20 years. He LOVES to give his students hell, and last night, I was his target. Every Thursday and Friday, we have exams. Thursday is terminology and Friday is our exam for the week on the material we cover. Like always, I studied my butt off for these tests. This week was a little different...we had today off (Friday), so all tests were taken last evening (Thursday). I'm a stickler for things being "just so" when it comes to academics. Well, last night, he threw us off by giving us the test differently. Because it wasn't the way I was used to, it took me longer to get through my first test (I was the last one taking it). I guess I asked for it when I threw him my test and said, "I feel SOOO retarded." His response? "Your bus is waiting out front. You know...the short one."

Although I ACED both tests, I still felt like that "special" kid who forgot her helmet at home. He can be an ornery brat, but I must admit, I'm going to miss him when I'm finished with school (which is only 2 months and one week away...then on to my externship).


Reason Number 2 - BOTH Boys are in School

Monday through Friday, I'm in school from 7:15pm to 10:45pm. By the time I get home, it's 11:00pm. You would think I would be exhausted by the time I drag my butt in from the car, but nope. It's incredibly difficult for me to go to bed right away. It takes me quite a while to come down from a night full of dental procedures, teeth, and computer crap. I would say my bed time is around 1:00am. Five and a half hours later, it's time to get the boys ready for school.

6:30am - Here's me in the morning (and since Toblerone is still making it a habit of waking up at the butt crack of dawn, amplify my bitchiness 10 fold. Put it to you this way, we rarely wake up to the sound of our alarm clock).

Instead of staying in his room, Toblerone makes his way upstairs to wake up Triscuit. Since neither of them know what the meaning of "quiet" is, loud giggling, foot stomping, and window shaking madness ensues. Both of them ARE morning people. When I finally roll out of bed, I'm greeted by two insanely happy children (imagine this times two):

This, in theory, SHOULD make me feel better...and for a brief moment, it does. THEN comes the dreaded morning routine. Toblerone has this down to a science, but Triscuit? It's a whole different ball game. Holy crap, this kid CANNOT get the morning routine down. It's the SAME every stinkin' morning. Get up, make his lunch, get dressed (he showers at night since he loves to play around and sing in the shower), shoes and socks, brush his teeth, brush his hair, TAKE HIS PILL, get his backpack on and head out the door. This process should take no more than 20 minutes. But for Triscuit? It takes 40 minutes. Half the time he's either chasing the dog around or pretending he's "SONIC the Hedgehog". I'm thinking I need to give him his Ritalin the minute he wakes up...maybe that will help.

7:15am - Weenie and I take boys to school. Boys are IN CLASS by 7:30am.

7:30am - Weenie and I have a 20-30 minute commute to his work (we only have one car), where I drop him off.

8:20am-10:20am - This is "ME" time. This usually consists of coffee, checking e-mail, updating Facebook/Twitter, turning music on, then studying.

10:20-10:40 - Leave to get Toblerone from preschool, come back home. Now come daily chores. Laundry, cleaning, and various other activities.

2:20-2:40 - It's back to school to get Triscuit (who has been doing EXCELLENT in school, by the way). Once home, Triscuit sits down to do his homework.

3:00 - It's time for ME to get ready for school.

4:30 - We leave to get Weenie from work,

5:15 - We arrive home, I make dinner

6:30 - I'M off to school.

So, there...you have an idea of what my days consist of. Yes, I'm tired...BUT, I'm enjoying it. I love the fact that both boys look forward to school everyday. I love the fact that both boys are doing sooo well! I love the fact that, even though our lives are busy, we are all HAPPY. Things will be even better after I start working!

I will try and get to a few more blogs by the time the week begins. The boys have been saying some crazy stuff lately and I have some really funny stuff to share.

Chairside (and Idiot) Assisting

Last evening was my first night delving into the mechanics of dental assisting. Because the college I'm attending is a fast paced one, there is no "easing" into things. First night in my professors class opened my (and the other D.A.'s) eyes to what's to come.

How this college works is new students are introduced into the program every month. There are a total of 8 courses (excluding externship) you must take in your field. Each group of students that begin will NOT begin with the same class YOU did. For example, the D.A.'s that started a month previous to us, started with Dental Sciences. This month, we start with Chairside Assisting. Those students beginning the program next month will begin with Laboratory Procedures. Each month, the class grows with new students and some leave to begin their externships. What we weren't expecting was the "idiot" factor. I have a message to those parents out there with children embarking on college for the first time. Do NOT send your children to college if they aren't mature enough to handle it. All you will be doing is wasting your money and unleashing an immature child on the rest of us...for US to deal with.

As I stated before, last evening was an eye opener...not just with the amount of information we have to soak up before exams every Thursday and Friday, but with the personalities in the class. There are some that are quiet and studious, then there are those who could give a crap about ANYTHING going on around them or ANYONE ELSE that may be there. As soon as the class started, these two fools in the back decided they were going to beat-box instead of taking notes. Then, one dropped their pencil and yelled, "G-D it all" WHILE the professor was talking. The other D.A. (the one that started with me) just looked at me...DUMBFOUNDED. The professor did NOTHING to address their behavior, but instead, chose to ignore it. This is NOT going to fly with me. I'm not paying thousands of dollars to be distracted by a couple of morons.

Next, we head over to the dental lab. This lab is set up like a rather large dental office (even smells like it, too). Everything from exam chairs, drills and x-ray machines to fake heads with cadaver teeth in them. Our lab assignment last evening was to get familiar with the hardware the dentists use. As dental assistants, we have to know how to put drills together, what apparatuses we need to attach to what hose, and even know the difference in bur (drill) bits. We also had to familiarize ourselves with what foot pedal controls what drill. Since there are 3 patient operatory stations, we had to break up into groups to do this. Guess who we get stuck with? The two class clowns. Since they've been in the program longer than us, their job was to show us what to do and how to attach things. Yes, they showed us that but then, they decided they were going to play "doctor/assistant". One, with the drill bit and the other with suction. Specific instructions were "do not drill into the cadaver teeth". What did they do? DRILLED INTO THE CADAVER TEETH. When the professor came around to look at our techniques, he noticed that there was dust in our "patient" mouth. I swear, his eyes changed from deep blue to deep red. He was ANGRY. He asked the other D.A. and I "who drilled the teeth?". We looked at each other, looked back at the professor and said, "Take a guess". He absolutely LOST his cool! After yelling at the guys, he turns back to us and gets short with US because our technique was wrong. Uhhh....hello? This was our FIRST NIGHT!

So, to recap, we spent 1 hour and 45 minutes in lecture, took a 30 minute break, and spent the last hour and 45 minutes in the lab. What did I get out of it? Seven pages of notes, NO answers (and no clue) to what I took notes on, a basic idea of how to navigate in the operatory station, what NOT to do to tick off my professor, and to stay OUT of his way when he's angry.

Tonight should be fun...*sarcasm*.

I found this and thought it was rather appropriate. I'm thinking this screen printed on a shirt may get the point across:

Hickeys

When I was a kid (I don't know about you all), I used to suck on my arms and give myself hickeys (before I KNEW what they were). I don't know if this is a genetic trait or just a kid thing, but Triscuit started doing this.

Two days ago, he walks past me and I see this thing on his upper arm.

Mum: "Hey, Triscuit. Come here."

Triscuit: "Yeah, Mom? Whassup?"

Mum: *Grabs his arm*..."What's this?"

Triscuit: "Oh...I sucked on my arm and this is what happened. Isn't it cool?"

Mum: "Do you know what we call that?"

Triscuit: "No...what?"

Mum: "We call those things Hickeys."

Triscuit: "Oh. Are they bad?"

Mum: "Well, that depends."

Triscuit: *Inquisitive look*

Mum: "Imagine yourself with a girlfriend...."

Triscuit: "MOOOOM! Ewww."

Mum: "No...bear with me. Imagine yourself in a few years having a girlfriend. Let's say you guys are kissing...."

Triscuit: "MOOOOOOOOOOOM!!!!"

He tries to run away, but I grab him.

Mum: "I'm trying to be serious, Triscuit. You need to hear this."

Triscuit: *Turning red* "But, I don't wanna talk about this."

Mum: "You have to learn SOMETIME! OK...I'll skip the details. If I see one of these on your neck, we're going to have one SERIOUS talk, little man."

Triscuit: "Girls suck on your neck? GROSS!"

Mum: *Laughing* "You say that NOW! Just you wait."

This whole time, I didn't realize Toblerone was listening.

Toblerone: "If a giwl giveth you a hickey, we're going to 'retht (arrest) her and put her in jaiw."

Mum: "I don't know about jail, but you and the girl will be under watchful eyes for quite some time."

Toblerone: "That'th icky."

Mum: "Remember this conversation Toblerone, because your day is coming, too."

Toblerone: "Nuh uh. I don't like giwlth (girls)."

Mum: "But Mommy's a girl."

Toblerone: "Ewww."

Now, he's wiping off my kisses.

What am I doing about this, you ask? I make SURE my lips are EXTRA wet. The sloppier the kiss, the more it irritates him. HA! Don't you say "ewww" to ME anymore. I will make sure you know what "Ewww" REALLY means. Stinker.

Bathroom Cleaning 101

Good Afternoon, Ladies and Gentleman. My name is Mrs. Mum and I'll be your teacher today.

Just in case you forgot what you signed up for, this class will cover how to clean and disinfect your bathroom. The material I'm about to teach you comes from years of overcoming obstacles, persistance and hard work. I STRONGLY suggest you take notes.

When you first decide to either move in with a person (room mates, significant other) or get married, you must understand that they do not have the same outlook you do on how to keep a bathroom tidy. If you are anything like me, once you grasp that concept, you will have less anger and frustration. So, stop threatening them within an inch of their lives, and just chill out. Also remember, when you decide to add children to the mix, they are NOT born with your OCD tendencies. Do NOT expect them to understand your extremely uptight ways. If you must, place a pillow in a plastic bag (under the sink, of course) to muffle your screams after they're done using said bathroom. All you will do is scare the poor child and cause the need for years of therapy to come on faster than normal.

The pointers I'm going to give you will help with maintaining your OCD lifestyle. Without further adieu, I give you "Bathroom Cleaning 101", and yes, I am OCD/Germaphobe certified.

First and foremost, personal protection/safety is an absolute must. If you do NOT already own a Hazmat suit, I STRONGLY suggest you purchase one of these:

I'm sure you're thinking, "Aren't Hazmat Suits usually yellow?" The answer to that is, yes. HOWEVER, if you want full protection against toilet back splash, the difference between the yellow and the blue suits are quite substantial. The yellow hazmat suit won't protect you from the heavy chemical warfare you will have to wage on your bathroom. The blue one, however, will protect you from moderate liquid splash, acid handling, tank cleaning, agrochemicals and oil refining (those last two are perks in case you have an aversion to yard work or changing the oil in your car).

Next, grab these two chemicals...one for the toilet and one for the rest of the bathroom (faucet handles, sinks, drain stopper, counters, mirrors, light switches, doorknobs and anything else that can collect the microscopic spray given off by a toilet when you flush it). I do prefer Lysol products...but if you can obtain industrial strength, then by all means, go for it.

Thoroughly cover your bathroom counter, faucet handles, and sink bowl with the first product until all you see is a sea of white foam. Let it sit while you move on to the next phase...the toilet.

Grab the second product and COAT the toilet bowl with the cleaner...no white porcelain should be showing. If you miss a spot, you may as well clean that toilet bowl again. Make SURE you get the extra thick formula...the more it clings to the toilet bowl, the cleaner it becomes.

Now...locate the toilet scrubber:

or jack hammer (depending on the condition of your toilet bowl):

Grasp either device and scrub/jackhammer your heart out! If there is porcelain left after the scrubbing session, you aren't scrubbing hard enough. Flush at least 10 times (no more or no less...otherwise you with OCD will have to start over). ALWAYS REMEMBER - for optimum cleanliness, dispose of devices above. Under no circumstances should you store something that has been used in a toilet bowl.

If you have children (especially boys) this product will be your best friend until they move out (the 48oz bottle should last you for at LEAST 4 bathroom cleanings):

Make sure ANY surface that gets dribbled on is sprayed with this stuff. Trust me...you'll thank me for the tip. Let it sit for a few minutes, then wipe it up with your heavy duty paper towels.

By now, the product on your counter/sink area should be done "foaming". Grab your paper towel or sponge (disposable of course) and tackle the counter. Scrub it until you can no longer feel your forearms and biceps...by then, it should be clean. When it comes to the sink bowl area, make sure you use Steele Wool. You need to keep in mind that catophuls (our family's word for throat cookies) are often "harked" into that sink. You need to use something heavy duty when attacking the drain stopper...anything less, and your sink bowl area MAY still have throat cookie residue.

Now that the hard part is done, take your heavy duty paper towels and your bathroom disinfectant and start wiping down the entire bathroom. It doesn't matter if the paint starts to peel off the walls or the caulking comes off from around the sink....in your germaphobe mind, it's all well worth it.

I realize that this sounds like an AWFUL lot of work, but isn't it worth not having E.Coli, Streptococcal, Hepatitis A, B and C (possibly D, E and F, too), Fungi, and Mold around? YES...it is.

There ARE some options for those of you who don't have time to spend a full day disinfecting your bathroom. I'll give you the top three.

1. Self Cleaning Bathroom:

2. Self Cleaning Toilet/Urinal (forgive the mannequins demonstrating the products. Someone was overly ambitious when they made the mold for the dummies):

3. Male Maid (my personal favorite). He has the muscle for scrubbing and he looks cute in the outfit.

This concludes our lesson for the day. I hope my tips will help you achieve disinfected zen. If you have any questions, please feel free to ask. I WILL have an answer for you.

We Be...Clubbin'?

I'm going to go off of the usual subjects (Triscuit and Toblerone) and post about me. I know that most of my readers know me better than I know myself, so I thought I would invite you in on a very important evening in my life....the "Last Horrah", as I call it. And yes, I'm armed with my camera.

Imagine...it's my last weekend of freedom, before this middle aged Mum of Two decides to take a risk and improve her life and the life of her family. So, I gather my two main ladies...my sister "Nani" and my really good, awesome, supportive, funny friend "Witha" (as Toblerone calls her). The plan was to go to dinner, drink some wine and go to a local dance club called "Hurricane Bay" (not necessarily in that order).

Nani, Witha, and I hit Rubio's and indulge in a salad. I know...exciting, but I wasn't going to blow my recent 15 pound loss on food that was going to make me gain it back. Also, being on the Atkins diet for over a month will make you think twice about your food choices, and it isn't just for the weight gain reason. Look up "Carb Dumping". You tell me, would you indulge right before you go to a club? I didn't think so.

It didn't take as long to wolf down a salad as I thought it would, so we head over to "Total Wine" and grab a few bottles for later consumption. If you aren't a wine person and have never tried Muscato D'Asti, you must. It's a sweet (dessert) wine that will make you wonder what your hang up was about wine in the first place. Oh...and each of us gets carded. Do you have any idea how happy that made me?

We head back to Witha's house, drop off the bottles of wine (there were only 2...don't panic), where we find her oldest son playing video games. I call him Spence...and he's an absolutely wonderful and handsome boy who has brains to boot (and please don't take that as creepy...I say that in a motherly way, of course). Forget the baseball bat, Witha. You're going to need a shotgun.

LOL...well, I did catch him off guard. He's even cuter when he smiles.

Finally...the clock hits 7:30pm and time to hit "da club".

I haven't been to a club since my early 20's. Yes, I used to be on the dance floor with the rest of them, but ladies, you'll understand the next thing I'm about to say. Once you have children, it seems like all the coordination you had prior to having them seems to leave your body the moment you give birth. I never broke bones prior to children. After I had Triscuit, I broke two. I wasn't about to risk breaking a third by trying to dance. Besides, it's more fun to "people watch". I know things have changed, but I'm still thinking "Great. This is going to be your typical club. Skinny, YOUNG, beautiful girls flaunting their curves (or lack thereof, depending on the affordability of breast enhancement. Oh...sorry. Was that mean? I have yet to see a size 0-4 girl with God given endowment...seriously. I know...Meow), with big, buff, tan men pulling out all the stops to impress said girls. This should be fun." I walk in and see this (not this particular girl, but you know the type):

Peachy. But then, I look elsewhere...and what do I see? Holy crap! WOW!

It's not just the size differences that amazes me...it's the AGE differences, too. From young college attending girls, to middle aged moms (like me), to GRANDMA'S out there shakin' their groovy behinds. It was actually quite refreshing! There was one lady there that we dubbed "Heidi". Imagine THIS, only her hair was real, she wasn't wearing a plastic dress and she was about 45 years old.

When it came to the men that were there, it was pretty typical. Although, there were a few in there that looked like this:

Eww. When you see guys like this, their ego's usually enter a room before they do.

I'm thinking, "OK...this is your last night in a while to have a little R-N-R. Loosen up and have FUN, dang it!" The pretty, young waitress (in a child's dress), comes up to take our drink order. Because I'm driving, I order water. I took a picture to prove it:

No, they don't put lemon wedges in Vodka.

I start snapping photos of the Sister (on the left) and Witha (right).

As I'm snapping away, Witha says, "OK...YOUR TURN." Crap. I HATE having my picture taken...but, since I vowed to "loosen up and have fun", I hand her the camera.

Here's evidence that, yes...I DO know how to have fun.

Me on the left, the Sister on the right:

I was told to "pose". This is the best I could do.

And yes, just to show I'm a good sport, I'll post a silly one, too. I think we can blame our parents for the "crazy" gene. And Dad? I'm mainly talking to you, since the Sister is sporting a classic "Dad" look. As for MY look, I would have to say that's all Mom's fault.

So, ladies? I just wanted to say thank you SO much for such a wonderful time! You two are the best and I love you very much!

Toblerone...Need I Say More?

I'm posting this one late at night because my head is swimming with information from orientation and I don't even feel tired. Can we say "run on sentence"? Sheesh...I'm slipping.

On to Toblerone and his "growing up". With this kid, "growing up" won't stop for him until he can touch the clouds. I feel for him, poor little-big guy. All I can say is I'm glad God has given him a gentle giant type of personality. He'll need it throughout school. That cherub face will also help him be less intimidating!

I've taken similar pictures comparing his hands and feet to MY hands and feet. Again, remember, he's not yet four years old (not until June 21st).

Toblerone's hand on top of mine....love his chunky little hands!

Toblerone's foot next to mine (and the dog's toy happens to show up...niiice)...


Now, on to Toblerone's face. Take one:


Oh for the love of all that holy...LOOK AT MOMMY and DON'T CLOSE YOUR EYES!!!

Toblerone's face - take two:


That's better...but now he has that "How YOU doin'" look on his face. I guess it's better than the "special" snapshots I'm used to taking. ONE of these days, he'll learn how to pose.

As with Triscuit, Toblerone is also growing up in more ways than just physical. He, too, has reached a "phase"...and it's not a good one.

For you parents out there that have older children, think back (however far back that may be). Remember the temper tantrums, the whining and crying, and the assertive phase? Yes...that's what I'm dealing with. Here's the big "BUT" you all are waiting for. BUT, I can GUARANTEE that your almost four year old wasn't 75 pounds and four feet tall. Ever tried to wrestle a child that size? Yeah...it isn't easy. I'm not a small woman, either. I'm average weight for a woman that stands at 5'9. You would think it would be easy. Think again. The kid has the strength of Hercules! He was helping Weenie move boxes outside for God's sake!

Yes, I'm going to touch on another sensitive subject that I'm sure will make you guys say, "WHY did you post this on your blog?". The answer to that, my friends, is called "life". We all MUST get over the embarrassment of parts. You parents with BOYS will understand exactly what I'm talking about.

NAKEDNESS AND BOOOOOBS

Whenever I say, "OK boys...time for a shower!", the FIRST person standing stark naked is Toblerone. The kid has NO modesty whatsoever. I swear, he rips off his clothes in the blink of an eye. I'm actually thinking about calling him "Flash Gordon" (pun intended). If I could get Triscuit to move that fast, we wouldn't have so many screaming matches!

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

Triscuit: "But MOOOOM! We just TOOK a shower."

Mum: "Move, son! I'm not going to argue with you."

As Triscuit tries to plead his case, giving the pros and cons of taking a shower, Toblerone is buck naked, shaking his booty at Triscuit.

Toblerone: "I'm going to get into the shower FIRTHT! *sticks his tongue out*

Triscuit: "MOOOOM! He stuck his tongue out at me!!! Spank him!"

Mum: *sigh*..."Triscuit, just take your clothes off and get into the shower."

Meanwhile, Toblerone is now upstairs and OUTSIDE in all his naked glory. Look at the pictures above...see how white he is? Yeah...I think the neighbors thought a second sun magically appeared.

Mum: "TOBLERONE! Get BACK inside NOW!"

Toblerone: *Turns around and shakes his booty...at ME*

Mum: "Ohhhh....I can't believe you just did that. That is SO rude, Toblerone!"

Toblerone: *Runs around on the patio, mustering every bit of ornery he has in him...LAUGHING*

Mum: "You WILL get a spanking if you do not come see me right NOW."

Reluctantly, he comes over to me (covering his naked little behind thinking "there is NO way Mommy can spank me with my hands there"). I FINALLY get them into the shower after 10 minutes of this.

It usually takes me about 5 minutes to fully scrub and clean him (and no, I didn't use the scrubby on his sensitive part). While he exits, Triscuit enters. As I'm reiterating instructions to Triscuit on how to wash properly (see previous post if you're wondering what I'm talking about), Toblerone's naked and WET butt is upstairs...and this time he's chasing the dog. *sigh*

Mum: "Toblerone...PLEASE come here. I need to dry you off."

He actually LISTENS this time and comes to see me. Next thing I know, this expression crosses his face:

He stares at my chest (I'm wearing a sports bra), then stares at his.

Toblerone: "What are thothe?"

Mum: "They're boobs, honey. Only girls have them (I decided to go ahead and point that out before he had a chance to ask)."

Toblerone: "Why do you have booooobth?"

Mum: "Because....um....."

Crap. How am I going to explain this to him...on HIS level?

Mum: "Because girls have different parts than boys. That's what makes girls different from boys."

Toblerone: "What are dey for?"

Really? Did he just ask me that?

Mum: "To feed babies. That's what Mommy's do when they have kids."

Toblerone: "Do dey eat dem?"

Mum: "No. Mommy's make milk when they have babies."

Toblerone: "Can I make milk?"

Mum: "No...only girls can."

Toblerone: "When will I get booooobth?"

Mum: "Are you a girl?"

Toblerone: *laughing* "Mooom! No, I'm not a giwl."

Mum: "What makes you a boy?"

That question popped out of my mouth before I even thought about it. NEVER....EVER do that.

Toblerone: "I don't have booooobth."

Thaaat's right, kid. Keep thinking that way...at least until your father gets home.

Toblerone: "Do you have milk?"

I am SO done with this conversation.

Mum: "Here's your crayons and coloring book. Why don't you color for a while?"

Thankfully, he stops with the questions...at least until the NEXT time he takes a shower.

Life is never dull in this house. If you ever catch me saying "I'm bored", your response should be "count your blessings".

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.