Moose Musings

How do you know you've had TOO MUCH sleep?

When you wake up from a dream that was a wierd combination of Psycho meets, Grandma's Boy, meets Hot Fuzz.

My dream was very disturbing to say the least, but I actually woke up laughing. Partially from the absurdity of the whole situation, and partially because in some odd way I could see how my little spitfire of a Sicilian grandmother would be perfect for a role like this.

What was the dream?

Well, my dad and I were visiting my grandmother and her neighbors mysteriously start dissapearing.

The annoying teenager playing his drums in the garage across the street = stabbed to death with a fork in his ear.
The jerk with the junk cars and other assorted mess in his front yard = found run over by his lawnmower (it's amazing the details you remember when you aren't tired)
And lastly, the extremely overweight man next door found choked to death on a plate of meatballs.

Yeah trust me I was scratching my head too.

The kicker was that somehow I found myself the next target from my grandmother and woke up to her chasing me with a wrench because ....well I can't remember.

How absurd is that?

Note to self: do not drink or eat anything odd or new before going to bed.


Potty training and smart ass are not words you want to put together.
Why?
Because it makes you realize that you've been outsmarted by a 2 1/2 year old and well....that's not really a confidence booster.

David's shown some interest in the potty lately. Mainly because his cousin who is the same age and nearly potty trained have been spending a lot of time together.
Nothing in a two year old's mind is cooler than having more stickers up your arm than Tommy Lee has tattoos - for doing your business.

The other day he picked out Lightning McQueen underwear. He was so excited and couldn't wait to wear them, shouting "YEAH YEAH YEAH"
I proceeded to put the undies on him with the explanation that we couldn't get McQueen dirty. I said that if he had to go pee pee or poo poo we had to do it on the potty.

(it's amazing how basic a college-educated woman's vocabulary gets when she has a toddler)

He yells out "OK" and proceeds to go play. Ten minutes later he says he has to pee pee. The hubby puts him on the toilet and after 15 minutes............. nothing.
David shouts "ALL DONE" and proceeds to put his undies back on and return to playing. HOWEVER, 5 minutes later, he decides he really needs to go, and rather than taking a break from his playing he goes into the kitchen, PULLS DOWN HIS UNDERWEAR, and proceeds to pee all over the floor.

The kicker is, as soon as he was done. He PULLS HIS UNDIES BACK UP, runs over to me and shouts "MAMA, PEE PEE, MACKEEN ALL CLEAN"

If he keeps this up he'll be heading to college pampers in tow.


What do you get when you take two cranky toddlers, two very hungry and tired moms and lack of sleep?
Two large cocktails from Red Robin.

My friend Beth and I have wonderful adventures together. The things Timothy and David can get into are boundless. David is notorious for being fine and then throwing a meltdown that can make the devil seem more frigid then Donna Martin.

Yesterday, was no exception as we found ourselves on the losing end of what I deemed Toddler Wars.

After David, threw, rolled, kicked, screamed, arched and climbed his way into the tantrum record books we found ourselves on the muggy back patio of Red Robin, with crappy service playing the "do not touch, throw, hit" Olympics.

I was starting to seriously contimplate handing David over to the Army Recruiter at the next table after my son managed to wack the guy twice in a row with various objects. (my Navy recruiter husband would have been proud).

Finally, about mid meal, Beth and I are exhausted and we haven't even gotton to the errands we needed to run that day. Our nerves are frazzles, the kids are covered in macaroni and cheese and well..... it's just plain hot.

You know it's bad when two women who NEVER drink order a round at 1 in the afternoon.

Sometimes you have to do what you have to do. I wonder if that's why my parents have such an extensive wine collection.........?