My Name is, My Name is ...

I won't really have a large post today, as I am in kind of a funk, but I do have some fun news in terms of " I am the mom of a 2 1/2 year old" news... Chaser woke up this morning asking about daddy at work and randomly proceeded to let me know that "My name is Chase" - very exciting for me ... Usually, when someone asks him his name he will either take out his binky and shyly and almost inaudibly answer Chase, or he will just stare blankly as if he did not understand the question ...

So now he knows his name- yahoooooooooo!!! I love my doodlebug so much!

I'm Going to Count to THREE

We were talking today in during our play date on the merits of time-outs vs. spankings, pops, talking-to's, whatever you may categorize the "punishing of your little angel that holds their halo's on their heads with horns" and it occurred to me that I have started using the phrase "I am going to count to three" expecting Chase to understand that once I am done counting, repercussions will occur, consequences will be faced and havoc will be reaped, not - "can we count to four mommy - one, two, three, four" with a see, aren't you proud of me smile on his face all the while he is thinking it was a fun, if not short and boring game for him ...

"I am going to count to three" means serious business in mommy language, and he is in big-time trouble and low and behold, eurekia - I realize that my doodle bug has just learned to count and loves to count out loud whenever possible, so why did I figure that this particular phrase would make an impression of punishment?

I have discovered that while using the phrase in a "mommy is not very happy and we are not playing a game" voice, Chase knows that he is in trouble but he still wants to count for me (sometimes up to ten, he is quite the budding genius) and then he will stop counting and listen then to mommy be upset with him - and all the time making mommy feel like a complete heel for wanting to stop him from counting and not letting his educational skills blossom while in the mist of punishment - no mother of the year awards heading my direction soon I am sure

So I have learned that I need to save the "I am going to count to three" phrase for later when he is not so excited about counting and numbers and pull another phrase out of my vast repertoire (especially one that my mom used a lot - one that i never would have thought i would EVER use on my own kids)

Is It Only Monday?

Sometimes when you wake up you wonder what today holds for you ... today I was awakened with a sneeze in my face by a child that the snot monster visited in his sleep (and had left all sorts of gifts for him - in his eyes, around his nose, etc) ... he wiped his face with his shirt, smiled, took out his binky gave me a big, slobbery (and slightly snotty -eew) Chaser good morning kiss and asked for candy for breakfast ...

As much as I would like to admit that I am one of those mothers that feeds their child only from the nutritional isle in the grocery store, I did not cave in and give him more Easter candy ... maybe candy later as a snack, hee hee, but not for breakfast- I do have standards!

He used to eat so good when he was little and I swore that I would not be that mom that only fed their child grilled cheese, hot dogs and pizza, but if that is all he will eat what else can a mom do? I really think he might have a slight tiny Indian man named Gandhi in him for as much as he can fast and does not care to eat, if he does not want what is on his tray, he will just sit there at stare at it as if it will disappear if he ignores it long enough - but i digress...

so it was cereal, banana and applesauce, and immediately after finishing his breakfast, he asked for candy again, and my natural reply was "maybe later" - and as any mother understands the phrase "maybe later" which in mommy terms, really means "I am hoping that if i tell you 'Later' that you will forget later and not remember to ask again" - but when it comes to candy, there is apparently no forgetting - EVER - and in his little mind, right now the Easter Bunny ROCKS and he has already forgotten about Santa...

All of this before 9 in the morning, which for all of the other moms out there is not that big of a blog, and you are probably thinking, welcome to the rest of our world's, but it is only Monday, I don't drink coffee so I can't have that to "relax" me and now it has started to rain - which means we are stuck inside with marathon rounds of Diego, Max & Ruby and the new one on his "must watch or I will have a complete meltdown" - that actually makes my teeth grind - is Yo Gabba Gabba - so just another day on the block where I secretly and silently curse Nick Jr, Noggin and the dern Moose A Moose, the Easter Bunny (really my fault since I am the one who got him all of it in the first place, but hey....) and the SNOT MONSTER

Where is my Skid Steer, mommy?

Unless you grew up on a construction site which admittedly I did not, you may not find the confusion in having a 2 1/2 year old who knows more about the large amount of different construction trucks than you do. My son has unfortunately inherited some of OCD (at least that is my excuse) and is insisstant when upon lying down for his nap, he must have a collection of toys (one day it is Thomas and all of his friends, one day it is Lightning McQueen and Mater-and their friends of course), and today is was a test of my mommy-knows everything because she is mommy so why would she not know the differences in my construction trucks (like daddy does)

~and like someone who talks louder to someone who does not speak the same language, by the end of the ordeal, he was fairly shouting the words out to me "skid-steer mommy" ... now I thought I knew all of his trucks, but upon gathering all of the trucks I got SCHOOLED by my 2 1/2 year old as to what was what - he has a front end loader, a dozer, a back hoe, a grader, a dump truck, 18 billion tractors in green, blue, red, orange, and yellow accordingly, and the infamous skid-steer ... and he would not go to sleep unless he had the skid-steer in bed, along with all the above - and for those of you who have not been to my house - it looks like Tonka, John Deere, and Thomas the Train crapped in our dining room-turned-toy-room ... so particular objects are sometimes hard to find.

I used to get away with giving him any-ole construction truck, but his memory retention is far more than mine, and he does not forget, and never forgets to ask me with his slobbery wet smile as I am feeling dumbfounded as to which construction truck will appease his request that moment in time - and if I am not understanding what he is saying - thanks to the ever present binky, he gently removes the binky and asks again, talking to ME like I am rainman, "I ... want ... my ... skid ... steer ... PLEASE MOMMY" = like the please will miraculously make me remember which yellow truck is which .... so after making at leat 12 trips to his room so I can drop all of his trucks in his bed to avoid more confusion on my end, and with almost no room in his bed because of all of the trucks in his bed, including his skid steer - I sit on the sofa and blog for the first time ever... so, until next time, I will continue to learn new things from my angel and hope the dog has not chewed any of his "struction trucks" to bits and raise a whole new slew of question vs. the wrong answer game