Toblerone's First Black Eye

While at the in-laws house last Sunday, Toblerone and his cousin "Z" were playing with a plastic baseball bat. "Z" accidentally whacked Toblerone in the eye with it. Not the greatest pictures (I'm requesting a camera for Christmas), but, they give you the basic idea of what happened. I'm sure this will NOT be his last black eye, either!

Every time something like this happens, I get another gray hair. I'm convinced I will be gray by the time I'm 40 with TWO rough and tumble boys!

*sigh*.....

This will be me in 5 years (except not a man). Thought I would forewarn you.

*HURP*, *HURL*, and *PUKE*!!!!

There is NOTHING like having your two year old bring you a freshly laid doggy cable (dog crap, land mines, and all the other acronyms you can think of) in his chubby little fingers!


*HURP* *HURP**HURP**HURP**HURP**HURP**HURP**HURP**HURP


You would THINK he would get it the FIRST time Mommy gags, freaks out, continues to gag and yell at him, "NO TOBLERONE!!! NO TOUCH DOGGY POOP!" but NOOOOOO.....he had to do it AGAIN!


*HURL**HURL**HURL**HURL**HURL**HURL**HURL**HURL**HURL*

At THIS point in his cute little life, I'm eternally grateful that we do NOT have a cat! I can only imagine what he would do with what looks like "Almond Roca's" in a litter box!


*PUKE**PUKE**PUKE**PUKE**PUKE**PUKE**PUKE**PUKE**PUKE*


Why do I have a feeling that the older he gets the MORE he's going to pick up on my detest for feces and TORTURE me with it????

Two Year Olds and Markers Do NOT Mix....

Yesterday afternoon, Triscuit traipses downstairs saying:

Triscuit: "Mommy. You're going to be VERY mad...."

Mum: "Why?"

Triscuit: "Because Toblerone got a hold of some markers."

Mum: "HOW did he get a hold of markers? You KNOW you aren't supposed to color ANYWHERE but at the dining room table!"

Triscuit: "I know, but....."

Mum: "NO 'BUTS'! What did Toblerone do???"

Triscuit: "He colored on the side of my bookshelf, on the front of where I keep my clothes (*snicker*....he meant dresser), and on the floor. OH...and he colored on his foot."

Mum: *SIGH* "OK...I'll be up there in a minute."

I go up to their room and find markers EVERYWHERE. I also find marker exactly where Triscuit said Toblerone colored. Thank God for Clorox Wipes. I pick them up (markers), take them downstairs and THROW them away. Little did I know, I missed a few.

Triscuit: "Uh, Mommy? Toby is coloring on himself!"

Mum: "With what? I just threw all your markers away!"

Triscuit: "Not ALL of them....."

Mum: "WHAT?"

I go upstairs and sure enough, I forgot two VERY important colors....BLACK AND PURPLE. HERE is what I see: Sorry the pictures are blurry. I had a hard time keeping Toblerone still. These pictures were taken AFTER I washed the majority of the marker off of his skin!

After telling my sister about the marker fiasco, she says, "Now I know what to get him for Christmas!" Here's MY response to THAT: I love you Sis, but....if you buy him markers for Christmas, I swear, you will be cleaning up the mess YOURSELF!

Hercules and a BAD Habit

Over the past week, we've had to make some adjustments to our "baby barricade" situation. "WHAT?", you say? I'm talking about baby gates.

You may think, "Why do they still have baby gates up?" Well, Toblerone is smarter than the average 2 year old...and also MUCH bigger...so, we've had to be creative in keeping him confined to a specific area. The kid gets into EVERYTHING. He watches your every move. He has figured out how to unlock doors (WITH a key). He has MASTERED dragging chairs around and climbing up on them to get what he wants. He also has managed to figure things out that the average 2 year old CANNOT. Those things include: opening containers, using a spray bottle (he watched me clean one day and now thinks he can do the same), knowing where EVERYTHING is in the refrigerator AND cupboards, knowing where we keep specific cups, lids and straws AND various other things that aren't springing to mind at the moment. Apparently, Toblerone thought along the same lines as YOU. "Why are Mommy and Daddy imprisoning me?" "Why can't I have the same freedoms as Triscuit?" All of this, of course, is speculation (since he can't talk that well). Toblerone has managed to "fix" the imprisonment issue. See below....

Here you see Dead Gate #1. This particular gate was up between the kitchen and the dining room:

Here's another angle:

And HERE is where he actually managed to break the hinge of the frame:

Here, you see Dead Gate #2. This one was located in the doorway of their bedroom (the ONLY reason that was there was to prevent Toblerone from falling down the stairs in a sleepy stooper if he were to wake up during the night. Precaution....purely precaution):

And the hinge that holds the wooden bar to the frame. I don't think you can see it that well, but the pin that's holding the wooden arm on is almost completely RIPPED from it's hole:
And finally, Dead Gate #2's wooden frame. These things are NOT easy to break....TRUST ME!

Sadly, the gates are now landfill material. There was NO way we could fix them! I swear to you, this kid is THE strongest child I have EVER encountered. It's hard to believe that he came from my womb!

Now that the baby gates are trash, we've embarked on a NEW adventure. Keeping Toblerone OUT of things that are dangerous! My cupboards, silverware, Tupperware, refrigerator, pantry, bathrooms...they are no longer "safe" from the beast we call Toblerone. So far, he has brought me knives (yeah, that freaked me right the heck out), forks, spoons, straws, Windex (latches are NOW on the cabinets under the sink), Clorox Wipes, my WAFFLE iron, various Tupperware containers, potatoes, fruit snacks, cereal.....the list goes on. The GROSSEST thing (thus far) that he has brought me? The plunger and toilet scrubber from the bathroom downstairs. Ew! EW EW EW EW EW!!!! A little information you didn't know about me is, I HATE ANYTHING TO DO WITH WHAT GOES ON IN A BATHROOM (well, besides taking a shower)! I swear to you, I dawn hazmat clothing when I clean said bathrooms. I DO clean them (and OFTEN), but I HATE doing it. I will gag, repeatedly, if I get ANY fluids on my hands. THAT'S the main reason why I can't WAIT for Toblerone to be fully potty trained. The other thing is Toblerone has begun a NEW habit (and it's a gross one). If I don't catch him RIGHT AFTER he poops in his diaper, he will go hide behind the chair and "play" in it. More times than I can count, he has brought me a little "nugget of joy" from his diaper and HANDS it to me. *HURP*!*HURP*!*HURP*!*HURP*!*HURP*!*HURP*!*HURP*!*HURP*!*HURP*!*HURP*! Oh God....I think I just threw up a little in my mouth. If you want to stay on my GOOD side, I suggest you stay FAR away from the subject of feces. Farts, I can handle. But POOP? GOOD GOD, NO! And on THAT note, I will be closing this blog and taking some Tums.

A Shocking Statement and an Embarrassing Question

I have SOOO much to catch you all up on that I figured, "I stay up late, so I may as well utilize my time appropriately and get some blogging DONE!"

This little installment is all about Triscuit. Since it's fall and the nights are no longer in the 90's, Weenie and I are BBQ'ing once a week. A few weeks ago, Triscuit and Toblerone were riding their scooters around the yard and all the sudden, Triscuit decides to announce IN THE LOUDEST VOICE POSSIBLE...

Triscuit: "MOMMY, DADDY? MY PEE PEE FEELS HUGE!"

Crap. I'm thinking to myself, "God...I hope the neighbors didn't hear that."

I look at Weenie, he looks at me and we both are just shocked BEYOND shocked. So, I ask...

Mum: "Why does your pee pee feel big?" (I HAD to hear his response)

Triscuit: "Because when I take a DEEP breath in, it fills with air."

Mum: "So, what happens when you breath out?"

Triscuit: "All the air goes out of it and it feels normal again."

Ummm.....what? I look at Weenie and say:

Mum: "Weenie....you get to handle THIS one."

Weenie: (He sighs and hangs his head) "Why not just leave it alone?"

Mum: "I guess we could...as long as he doesn't have any questions..."

Weenie: "I'm sorry."

Mum: "Why are you sorry?"

Weenie: "Because he's so much like me."

Mum: "I know."

Weenie: "What is THAT supposed to mean?"

Mum: "NOTHING Honey! You said it FIRST! I was just agreeing with you!!! Geez! Don't get so defensive!"

Weenie: (Laughing) "I was kidding around with you..."

Mum: "What do we do? He is SO aware of his body that I think we are going to have to have "the talk" before we expected to."

Weenie: "WE are going to have to have "the talk" with him? Didn't you TELL me BEFORE we had kids that if we had boys, that would be MY job?"

Mum: "I did, didn't I? Well, COOL! I'm off the hook then! Ha ha ha!!!"

Weenie: "I don't know. Let me talk to my dad."

At this point (because everyone has been sick) we haven't had a chance to talk to his dad. I asked Weenie how his dad explained it to THEM. He said that each boy was given a book at the age of 12 or 13 to read. Once the book was read, they discussed any questions. That is NOT going to work with Triscuit....TRUST me. The kid asks SOOO many questions about EVERYTHING. Take THIS scenario for instance.

A few weeks ago, as we were finishing his schooling for the day, out of the blue, Triscuit asks me this:

Triscuit: "Mommy?"

Mum: "Yes, baby?"

Triscuit: (Pointing to my bewbs) "What are THOSE for?"

Mum: "Ummm....I'm a girl. All girls have bewbs." (At this point, I'm hoping he stops the questions....but NOOOOO.....)

Triscuit: "Why?"

Mum: "Because that's how God made women."

Triscuit: (Lifting up his shirt and touching his nipples) "Why do I have these?"

Mum: "Ummm....let me get back to you on that one."

Triscuit: "Mommy?"

Mum: *heavy sigh* (only because I KNEW he wouldn't let it go) "Yes, honey?"

Triscuit: "WHY do girls have bewbs?"

Mum: "Because God gave women the ability to make milk for their babies. Remember when Toblerone was born and Mommy would feed him that way?"

Triscuit: "Yes..."

Mum: "Well, that's how babies get their nourishment. They don't have teeth, so they have to drink their meals."

Triscuit: "Since Toblerone is 2 now and you don't feed him like that, why are your bewbs still there? You don't need them anymore."

Mum: (I'm completely dumbfounded at this point) "Well, honey, women are shaped a specific way. God gave us bewbs for other things, too." (Yeah....after that came out of my mouth I KNEW I had opened a flood gate of questions...)

Triscuit: "What OTHER things?"

Mum: (Pulling the "sound like your mother card" from the file of sayings) "You will learn all about that when you get older."

Triscuit: "But I AM older. Why can't I know NOW?"

Mum: "Let me talk to Daddy about it. DADDY will make the decision whether you are old enough to know that yet or not."

Triscuit: "OK."

Weenie's response? "H-E-double hockey sticks, NOOOOO! He's too young!!!!"

Here is MY beef with "waiting". If he is smart enough to THINK about it and wonder things like he's been wondering, then WHY not address the issue when it comes up the FIRST time? I want to be open with my kids about their bodies and all the changes they are going through. The trouble is, Weenie and I don't see eye to eye on this one. I WILL not go forward with something unless we are on the same page. I don't want to be one of THESE parents:

You know...the type that just brush their children off and pretend sex doesn't exist? I also don't want to be an over reactive parent when sexual questions/issues arise. I don't want them to feel that normal feelings/urges are "dirty". I want them to be informed and be confident in themselves.

Any suggestions from the peanut gallery? I would LOVE to hear your responses!

The Word of the Day? "AMAZING"!

WHAT A MONTH! Just when I think things are settling down and all is getting back to normal, ANOTHER wave of sickness hits! I'm NOT looking forward to this winter! Vitamins....everyone in this house will be taking MASSIVE vitamins!!!!

It all started last Thursday. Toblerone woke up from his nap with a 101 degree temperature. I thought, "Hmm...more teeth?" Then I remember, "No....he HAS all of his molars (unless he's developed a second set...which WOULDN'T surprise me. LOL!)." The next day, the same thing...except it's around 102-103 degrees. I alternate Tylenol and Ibuprofen to keep the fever at bay. Toblerone is acting weird but won't tell me if he has any ouchies. He doesn't go to sleep until 2:30am Saturday morning. THEN, 7:00am rolls around (Saturday morning) and he wakes up CRYING. I attempt to give him juice, which he refuses. Then, I give him milk. He drinks about 3/4 of it but very slowly and is looking like he is having trouble swallowing. Oh...AND HE'S DROOLING UNCONTROLLABLY! I call the triage line and was told to take him to urgent care. Because I used to work for CIGNA, I KNOW the urgent care department is PACKED on the weekend, but I take him anyway. HERE is where the FUN begins.

We get there at 10:20am. As SOON as we walk through those doors, Toblerone begins to cry. He kept saying, "Mama...dur (door)....bye-bye." He KNEW something was up. I sign in and notice the sign that says, "There is a current wait of 90 minutes". I'm thinking, "OH GREAT...HOW AM I GOING TO KEEP HIM HERE FOR AN HOUR AND A HALF???" The longer we are there, the more upset he is getting! Before we left the house, I grabbed his "Mauw" for security purposes. I'm SOOO glad I did! It seemed to make him feel better. People were looking at me as if to say, "CONTROL YOUR KID!" I wasn't happy with that, but I knew THEY weren't feeling good either. FINALLY they call us back around 12:00pm. As we are directed to a room, Toblerone begins to WAIL and FLAIL!!! Then, he does the "rag doll" and about drags me to the floor WITH him. I manage to get him into the room, where the cranky nurse says, "The doctor has ONE more patient to see before you. He will be in soon." I'm thinking, "Uhhh....yeah. Sure." Thank GOD there was a rocking chair in there. As I'm rocking the 45 pound beast, I'm trying to explain why we are there. I say, "Toblerone, we aren't here for you to get hurt. We are here so that we can find out what's wrong so we can make you better!". Toblerone, only understanding about HALF of what I say, says, "Mama...bye-bye....mama...bye-bye!!!" As we are waiting (for another 30 minutes) he passes out from exhaustion. Good thing, too. My arms were SOOO sore!!! Then, the situation takes a rather funny turn.

Doctor: (Walks in the room NOT looking up from the chart), "SO...WHAT'S GOING..(looks up from his chart and sees Toblerone asleep) *whispers*...Sorry! What's going on with Toblerone?"

Mum: "He hasn't been sleeping too well, he's been running a temperature between 101-103 since Thursday and, this morning, he won't drink much of anything and is having trouble swallowing. I think his throat hurts. I've asked him where his ouchie is, but he won't tell me."

Doctor: (Looking at Toblerone's chart and then at Toblerone. A bewildered look comes over his face) "How old is Toblerone?"

Mum: "2 years and almost 4 months."

Doctor: "Seriously?"

Mum: (In a rather sarcastic tone) "Yes."

Doctor: "When was he born?"

Mum: (Thinking to myself, "You've GOT to be kidding me. Does he think I'm LYING????") "June 2006."

Doctor: "Man...he's a big boy!"

Mum: "I know."

Doctor: "How much does he weigh?"

Mum: (Thinking to myself, "LOOK AT THE CHART, FOOL!!!!") "According to your scale up front, he weighs 45.4 lbs."

Doctor: "Oh...I'm sorry. I missed that."

Doctor: "HOW tall is he????"

Mum: "At last check, almost 3'4"

Doctor: "Amazing."

Mum: (Laughing) "I know. My husbands side of the family consists of VERY large men...anywhere from 6'2 to 7'0 tall."

Doctor: "I have a 5 year old...and he's not EVEN as big as Toblerone! Amazing...."

Doctor: "We will try and get as much done as we can while he's asleep. Let me take a listen to his breathing and his heart..."

As the doctor is listening intently with his stethoscope, I hear, "Good....good....good....good....A-N-D GOOD!"

Doctor: "He sounds SOOO incredibly healthy! Is he currently on any medications?"

Mum: "Tylenol and Ibuprofen have been given...alternately for about 48 hours. I will give him the occasional Benadryl for allergies, but other than that, no. He's never been on any prescription medication."

Doctor: "Really? Do you know how incredibly LUCKY you are???"

Mum: "Yes...I know. I was blessed with VERY healthy children."

Doctor: "Have you noticed any kind of rash?"

Mum: "Yeah. I noticed this (holding up Toblerone's hand) this morning."

Doctor: "Hmm....I wonder...(proceeds to take off Toblerone's shoe)..."

Doctor: "Yup. OK. Can you roll him over so I can look in his mouth?"

Mum: "Sure."

I roll Toblerone over and low and behold....a RASH on his mouth. That was NOT there before we came to urgent care.

Mum: "What's THAT????"

Doctor: "I have a suspicion..."

Mum: "AND???"

Doctor: "Well, I need to swab his throat to be sure it's NOT strep."

Mum: "Do we HAVE to????"

Doctor: "Yes...I'm sorry. I will be as gentle and quick as possible. He is NOT going to like it!"

The doctor proceeds to instruct me on how to hold him. I KNEW this was going to be difficult. The doctor shoves his giant Popsicle stick between Toblerone's teeth and tries to pry his mouth open. Toblerone's eyes FLY open and he begins to FIGHT! He wouldn't scream (that would mean he would have to open his mouth and cooperate) and made the whole experience WAY harder than it needed to be. FINALLY, the doctor swabbed his throat....

Doctor: "See the blood on the swab?"

Mum: "HOLY CRAP!!! WHY IS HE BLEEDING????"

Doctor: "I think what we are looking at his Hand/Foot/Mouth Disease."

THIS is what it looks like:

Mum: "How did he get THAT? I keep my house clean and my kids clean...(I get interrupted)"

Doctor: (Laughing), "No, no, no. Hand/Foot/Mouth disease is a specific viral strain of a cold. For some reason in toddlers 2-4 it will present itself as a cold AND as a rash on the hands, feet and in/around the mouth. Depending on the severity, the rash and blisters can be very painful."

Mum: "Yeah...I gathered that. Toblerone is a tough little kid. Something has to hurt pretty bad in order for him to cry about it. I have NEVER seen him so miserable."

Doctor: "I can see that. I don't normally give any medication. I normally advise to use Tylenol for discomfort, but seeing that your LITTLE (chuckles) little (chuckles again) man is in so much pain, I'm going to give him Tylenol #3."

Mum: "Is there anything else I can do to make him comfortable?"

Doctor: (Handing me paperwork) "Everything you need to know is right here. Just be sure that you do a LOT of hand washing. You, your husband and your 7 year old can get it, but it will only be a typical cold to you. You won't get a rash or blisters."

The conversation after the swabbing of the throat was conducted over Toblerone's screaming!

Doctor: "OK dude. I'm done touching you...I promise! You wanna go bye bye?"

Toblerone: "Yeah....BYE BYE!"

Toblerone stands up (for the first time) in front of the doctor. Apparently, Toblerone had been studying the door and figured out, in his mind, how to open it. He goes over, opens the door (like he had done it before) and swings it open. The door was HEAVY, too.

Doctor: "WOW! I can't believe he just....(this time I interrupt HIM)"

Mum: "I know. At times, we call him "The Hulk." TOBLERONE SMASH!"

Doctor: (Laughing) "That's a GREAT nickname for him. He really knocked you around while I was swabbing his throat!"

Mum: "You wonder why I look so tired? People I know often wonder that. All I have to say is "Toblerone" and they understand COMPLETELY!"

Doctor: "You are going to have your hands full. I hope his brother isn't as big!"

Mum: "No. Brother is a little taller than normal, but nothing extraordinary. He's 7 years old, 52 pounds and 4'2."

Doctor: "Man....JUST AMAZING!!!!"

Doctor: (Talking to Toblerone), "Follow me! I know a short cut!"

He takes us through the back and out a different entrance so we didn't have to go through the waiting room again.

Doctor: "OK Dude. You're free to go! I hope I don't see you again!"

Mum: "Say thank you, Toblerone!"

Toblerone: "NO!"

Mum: "TOBLERONE! BE NICE! Say Bye Bye!"

Toblerone: (Shoots the doctor an evil look) "BYE! (with ONE courtesy wave)"

Doctor: (Laughing) "He's MAD isn't he?"

Mum: "Yes. He'll be fine once he's outside."

Toblerone: (Dragging me OUT the door) "MAMA...DUR (door)...BYE-BYE....NOW!"

Toblerone is doing MUCH better. He's finally eating other food besides Otter Pops, so I know he's on the mend!!!

I Can't Believe It!

First, I need to apologize. My intentions were to FINALLY be able to catch up on blogging last week, but unfortunately, I had to catch up on HOUSE WORK! Being sick for 3 weeks can really throw off a schedule. So, I hope all is forgiven! I have SO much to catch you all up on!

Arizona got a "cold" snap (if you want to call it cold) out of the blue, and we had to scramble to find some warm clothing for the boys to wear. Last year at this time, Toblerone wore 2T clothing. I decided to keep 3T and 4T stuff for THIS year. If I had only known that he was going to be GIGANTOR, I would have prepared a LITTLE better. The kid is into 5T/XS boys clothing. After going through 8 different pairs of pants, we finally found a pair that I had saved from when Triscuit was 5. The NEXT step was finding shoes (besides Crocs) that fit him. We THOUGHT (according to Croc sizes) that he was wearing a toddler size 10. We had 3 different pairs of tennis shoes that we thought for SURE were going to fit his fat little feet. BOY WERE WE WRONG!!! The first pair we tried were size 11. We couldn't even get his feet IN the shoe. The second pair were 11 1/2. We tried SO hard to shove his feet into those shoes, but again, no luck. The LAST and FINAL pair were size 12 1/2. Weenie and I thought, "Naw...they're going to be too big". We put the shoes on him and LOW AND BEHOLD, THEY FIT HIM!!! They weren't too big, either! Those shoes were Triscuits that he outgrew LAST YEAR at the age of 6!!! I thought Toblerone's size factor had hit me already, but that whole fiasco REALLY brought it home! I just kept saying "Holy crap" for the full 40 minutes it took to dress him. THEN, it was Triscuit's turn. That was equally as challenging. I'm pretty sure Triscuit has grown 2-3 inches since LAST year at this time. Again, I fished through the winter clothes that are hanging in their closet. Each pair of pants that I found for Triscuit to put on, were too short. I even bought these clothes BIG last year so that THIS year he would still be able to wear them. I was WRONG! Poor kid looked like he was expecting a flood! After finding a pair that didn't look TOO bad, we, again, were on a quest to find shoes that fit Triscuit's long and skinny feet. THANK GOD FOR WEENIE! Weenie likes to shop at thrift stores. Weenie ALSO has this obsession with Converse. About 3 years ago, he came across a pair of black Converse with flames on them. They were too small for Weenie, but he thought, "I will buy them for Triscuit for when he's older ("older" meaning 10 years old)". Three years AHEAD of schedule and Triscuit is in a men's size 2. It's amazing to me just HOW fast these kids are growing. I told the boys yesterday, "You are NOT allowed to grow anymore! The NEXT person to add an inch in height is going to get SPANKED!" That made Triscuit laugh. I said it in a VERY serious tone, but I was kidding (of course)! My sister found this image on the internet. I think I need to get this printed on a T-Shirt....