HEART=BROKEN

It's almost 1'oclock in the morning and I am packing your lunch for your first day of school. I am also sobbing like an idiot. Who cries when making Cinnamon apple slices? Your mom. Why am I making your lunch at 1 am, instead of being in bed and getting a full nights sleep like a normal person? I am your mom. And in 10 years, unless I have had some massive turn around, I am most likely still going to be making your lunches at 1 am. I have never been organized at doing anything. Which is why I think this is so hard for me.

I am not prepared for this.

You on the other hand, are.

I did exactly what I set out to do. Raise an independent, intelligent, and caring young man, who was passionate about learning and the world around him.

The only thing I forgot to do, was think about myself.

For 5 and a half years, you have been my only job. Get up, feed you, cloth you, play with you, make sure you were safe. You have been my one and only focus since the moment you were born, if not before that. And tomorrow...you are going to start your journey without me. I know you are coming home at 3, and I realize you are still very young, but it's a beginning. I want to feel happy, and I want to be elated..but honestly, I just don't know what I'm going to do without you around.

You are my little best friend. I don't understand parents who long for the days of school, when their children are gone and aren't around to interrupt their daily activities.

You growing up, completely terrifies me. What am I to do now? I never realized how much of myself I sacrificed until tonight. I don't even know what I want anymore. I know I should be glad that I can go shopping without dragging you through the store having a hysterics fit over a ninja turtle, I know I should be happy that if I am exhausted, I can just take a nap without having to also convince you that you are tired and to lay down with me, I can take calls without you screaming in the background, I can have a drink without you drinking out of it and getting chunks of food in it, and I can go to the bathroom without you pounding on the door, but for some insane reason..I don't care about any of that. I am going to be lonely. It's going to be so quiet. I am crying again.

I'm going from being with you all day everyday, to having you be gone for 8 hours, 5 days a week. Why does that sound like a prison sentence? Why can't I just be happy for you?
Thank god you are excited about school, otherwise..I'm guessing we'd be on our way to Canada tonight.

I know you are going to an amazing school. (rockprairiemontessori.com) I know the teachers there are phenomenal. I've wanted you to go to that school, since I was pregnant with you. So why is it that all I am imagining is, you being scared and alone during lunch time with no friends? You've never eaten lunch without me to have a conversation with. Are you going to be scared? Are you going to feel rejected? What if you want to call me and no one let's you? Holy god I need to calm down.

I think the worst part in all of this, is literally no one understands why I feel this way. "Lora, you'll love it" "Lora, this will be so good for him." Yeah, I get that. I also get that my one and only purpose for living is now going to be gone all day and I have no idea what the hell to do with myself.

I'm just not ready. I'm not ready for you to be old enough to go to school. I'm not ready for you to need a lunch, or a backpack, or to have projects at school. Aren't you 2 years old? don't you need me to change your diaper? Don't you need me to sing you to sleep?

I don't know how these years have gone so fast, but they were great years. I will never regret the career I gave up, or the money, or the time I spent sacrificing my sanity..because what I got in return was worth so much more. I can always go back and try my hand at those other things that people seem to hold so dear, but I can't go back and be there for you every second of your childhood. I am very glad I made the right decision. I never missed a laugh, or a word, or a tear or a step. I can honestly say I never missed one milestone. I did my job, and I did it well. And it is truly the thing I am most proud of.

Well, I better get to bed so I don't sleep in and start you on a trend... I love you buglet Jones...I'm not sure how this transition is going to work out, or how much I will cry..I just hope the next 6 years are just as challenging and amazing at this last few.

Here is to our new adventure baby boy...

Love Always,

Mom

Mom, please try some brown sugar

Me: Honey, I know what brown sugar tastes like.

Sam: Please, you don't understand. It tastes better than anything.

Me. Baby, I know..but sugar makes you fat.

Sam. Mom, you're already fat. Just eat it.

No..no.no no no no no no no no

Sam: Mom! Come downstairs! I made myself beautiful!

Me: Okay baby, be down in a second. (pause) Wait, what did you use to make yourself beautiful?

Sam: Nail Polish

(.4 seconds later I am in the basement frantically looking for the damage)

Sam: Look mom, pretty!

(I see that he has taken the word "finger" literally, and painted his finger up to the first joint with bright pink nail polish.)

Me: That is very pretty honey, but very bad for you, and it makes a huge mess. Let's go get in the bathtub.

Sam: Is it bad for dogs and carpet too?

FUCK

(The dog is fine by the way. Carpet? Not so much.)

"Dear God, please kill all the aliens in the world so I don't have to kill them to protect my mom"

By the way, your son's penis will blow up.

So Sam and I spent the entire day in the pool yesterday. Lounging and drinking..twas a glorious time. Oh wait no, it was more like, him throwing shit at me and splashing my face until I swallowed enough water to be legally considered a manatee.

When Sam got out of the pool, he kept saying his swim trunks were hurting his wiener. I figured it was the liner or something. For the next hour he kept whining and grabbing at it, so while in the car, I pulled over and let him go commando. When I got home I got a better look at it and saw that the tip was extremely swollen, it looked like a balloon to be exact.

Now, Sam is "intact" which means I chose to not hack off his foreskin the day he was born. I'm not giving any crap to moms who chose to do it, the only reason I did was I was shown a video of a circumcision being done a week before my birth..needless to say, I chose not to do it.
Although I am glad I made this decision, there are still things I need to be careful about..like infections. I figured it was infected. I put some of my homeopathic antibacterial stuff on it, and kept checking every hour. It got worse.

I would put a picture up but knowing my luck, this would probably become the #1 deformed penis child porn site on the web.

He said it didn't hurt, he said it was fine but after another look, I saw my son's penis looked like a hot air balloon or a Jellyfish bloated on the beach..so we headed to the ER.

"SEPARATION TRAUMA"

Ever hear of this? Yeah, me neither. Apparently it's when intact boy's penises, start to separate from the foreskin. It causes "Ballooning"

So...why the FUCK did no one ever tell me about this? Oh by the way your son's penis will blow up 8 times it's regular size, but don't sweat it..it's just trapped piss.
Awesome. Glad I was worried about my son's future sex life all day.

2 things I learned that day.

1. You cannot explain to a child why it's important to have a penis when you are older. It's very awkward, and they know that peeing is not the only reason.

2. My son wants a tiny penis. When the nurse told him it just meant it was growing, he started sobbing hysterically. " I want my old wiener, I don't want a big gross penis, I love my penis how god made it." How do you convince a little person that it's good for his wiener to grow? Can't really be honest can I?


So, the main reason I'm posting this is for other mothers who have this happen. Don't freak out, it's just trapped piss.

Holy shit I am tired.

Piss has made a comeback.

I should have known this was coming. For a couple months now he has randomly pulled out some of his old tricks. Peeing in the bathtub, in the dog bowl, in his water bottle. I can't say that I blame him, If I had a hose that stuck out of my body, I'd probably see what creative ways I could come up with to empty my bladder as well. Unfortunately for me, his fun is my biohazard. The bad stuff started a week ago and so far there have been three major incidents.

Incident 1. Incident 1 was more of a conversation, because I didn't see anything. This is how it went.

Sam: Are the dishes done?

Me: Yes, why?

Sam: Do they smell like pee?

Me: Why would they smell like pee?

Sam: Because I just wizzed in the dishwasher.

Me: Before or after they were done?

Sam: After. I wanted them to smell good! Like my weiner juice.

(Check dishwasher, could see obvious signs of yellow liquid)

This was followed by the following: Grumbling, A toy being put in the "gone for 6 months" bin, and the dishwasher being restarted with a crap ton of detergent.


Incident 2. I have cats and dogs, and I like my house to not smell like them. As cool as being the "lady who's house smells like cats" is, I'd rather not. So, once a week I make a homemade mixture of baking soda and essential oils and spread it over the carpet before I vaacum. So, about 3 days ago..I got out my huge bucket of the stuff and started shaking it around as usual. I noticed it was really clumped up this time, but I had added a lot of lemon oil so I figured that was the reason. WRONG. Immidiately after finishing the living room I hear Sam hysterically laughing. "Mom, you're putting my wizz all over everything" apparantly he thought it would be funny to take a leak into the bucket right before I spread it all over my entire house. FUCK

Incident 3. This is my favorite. I was standing at the stove, making dinner when I felt something start dripping on my foot. I looked around at the cieling and the stove figuring it was something leaking. I saw a stream of yellow liquid hitting my foot at an angle...I followed it up and it was coming from my son's tiny weiner. My son had a look on his face like I've never seen, it was extremely confident, and very prideful.

Me: Sam! What are you doing!?!?
Sam: I'm peeing on your foot
Me: Yeah, I can see that. That is disgusting Samuel, this has to stop. I know you think it's funny but it isin't This is seriousuly the most disgusting thing anyone has ever done to me.
(This is where I get worried that my son is posessed)
Sam: You mean so far.
Me: what? What does that mean?
Sam: It's the most disgusting thing anyone has done to you SO FAR.
I'm scared.

He has also peed on the dog, peed into a bottle cap and let it overflow all over the livingroom and peed into an ice cube tray trying to make piss popcicles. But these three were the ones that made me the most insane. I really have no plan, I'm just venting. And if you are wondering why I haven't blogged in so long, it's because I'm trying to clean a 5 year olds body weight in piss off everything in my home.

Whatever, it's better than poop right? RIGHT? Argh...

tweets? twats? I'm a sheep Bahhhhh

For any of you who have had the pleasure of meeting/speaking with Sam, you know that pretty much an endless amount of comedic material rolls out of his mouth on any given day. I've decided to create a twitter account, so while I'm at the store, or putting him to bed I can just tweet it, and not forget about them like I am doing now.

Follow me, weeeee!

http://twitter.com/andthencamesam

Hang on Bug, I have to go to the bathroom...

Sam: Are you going turd or squirt?

Me: Squirt

Sam: Fine, but make sure you flush the toilet so it doesn't wreak like wizz in here.

"You're armpits smell like old Gatorade"-Sam

I've been making decisions

Me: Oh yeah, what kind?

Sam: Big ones

Me: Like what?

Sam: No more Parmesan cheese, Parmesan cheese hurts my feelings. Also, I'm pretty sure I'm going to start picking my nose again.

Me: Why does it hurt your feelings?

Sam: It's too salty, it dries my heart out.

Me: Okay, why do you want to pick your nose again?

Sam: Because you do.

Me: Good point

"I want to rip a big fart that is so big it puts a crack in the world" -Sam

Holy motherhood batman

I've been away...well not really. I've been right here, I have chunks of dog hair on the floor because my germanlabradorhusky completely rids himself of hair twice a year. It's gross. I digress...it's been a fun filled few weeks. Lots of messes, lots of grilling out and of course..Samisms. I have a few good ones I'm about to post now and maybe if I can figure it out, a video! I am advancing!

Mothers Day

Sam: Happy Mudders Day Mommy

Me: Thanks baby

Sam: Daddy told me to say that

Me: That's okay, I know you mean it.

Sam: What does it mean?

Me: Today is a day that you show your mom how much you love her. It's called Mothers Day.

Sam: Do I have to come out of your rib cage again?

Me: You came out of my tummy, and no...you do not have to be born again.

Sam: I have to poop

Me: Okay

Sam: I need you to wipe my butt

Me: Okay

Sam: Can you wipe my butt on Mudders day?

Me: Especially on Mudders day

Why is there so much cars?

Me: Because there is a rummage sale next door

Sam: Well they need to get out of our way.

Me: I know, but there is nothing we can do.

Sam: I know what we can do

Me: What is that

Sam: We can murder everyone there, then burn the rummage sale down, and then drive through it and laugh.

Me: (I honestly paused for a full minute with my mouth open) Baby, I don't like when you say stuff like that, we should never hurt anyone to get what we want.

Sam: I know, I have mental problems.



Am I doing something wrong? Is this normal?

Yesterday he whipped a quarter across the living room, leaned back into his recliner with his arms folded with a smirk on his face and said "Let's watch that old gravity work" It's like my son is possessed with an 80 year old sociopath.

He never does anything hurtful or violent, but he says pretty crazy things for a 5 year old. I know one thing for sure, he is either going to grow up to be wildly creative and invent the first candy rollercoaster or eventually mass murder a village.

I have videos

Sometimes I read my blog, and sometimes I look at the things I write and think "My life is insane" and I think that to some people, the things he does or says must seem impossible. I assure you that they are in fact 100% truthful. If they weren't, I would be outside skipping rocks and planting tulips instead of feverishly trying to blog about my urine and mud fueled angst. Ask anyone who has ever met him, Sam is a different breed. He is fantastic, a true ham...and my best friend. But that kid is giving my sanity a run for it's money.
I digress....I have started taping the things Sam' does on my phone, if I can catch him in the moment. I have about 3 now, and once I figure out how the hell to edit them they will be posted. I am excited, I am excited for you to have even more reasons to laugh at my expense. Until then..Sam has a hammer...

One of the top 5 things you don't want to hear when pulling your squash out of the oven:

"Hey, why did you cook that squash in my pee bowl?"

"You know what I like about robots? They don't even have nuts but they can still beat up robbers." -Sam

Sam, what are you doing with the saran wrap?

Sam: Making a machine

Me: What does it do?

Sam: It's a surprise, I'll be out in a minute.

(5 minutes go by where I can hear my entire roll of Saran Wrap getting ripped out)

Sam: Okay I'm ready!

(he comes out naked, covered in Saran Wrap)

Sam: I'd like to introduce you to the Noodle Hider 3000, for just 40 dollars you can buy it and hide your noodle when people come over and you are naked.

Where you going?

I just have to run to the Tyme machine, I'll be back in a minute...play with Uncle Jordan.

Can I come with you? It's very important.

Why?

Because I need to go back in time and see myself as a baby.

Wrap with a side of disgusting

I've recently started letting Sam make his own food decisions, and then (depending on the difficulty) letting him prepare it himself. I don't keep unhealthy foods in the house, and he doesn't really know of their existence so this is a safe procedure. Today he wanted to make his own sandwich, and this is what he put on it.

Veggie Wrap
Pine nut hummus
Vegan Cheese
Raspberries
Peanut butter


Now I am all for combinations, but this looked disgusting..and he ate the entire thing.
Yesterday he dipped an entire container of strawberries in hummus and ate it for breakfast. Some of the things he eats are so gross I can't even watch. I suppose I can't judge, my favorite thing to eat when I was little was cold chicken dipped in Jif peanut butter. Jif, you know it right? It's the best peanut butter ever. I don't eat it anymore what with it being the equivalent of mowing down 120 Twinkies, but damn...I miss me some Jif.

Guess what the one on the left is?

Boobs.

My son just drew boobs. How am I sure? He told me...quite specifically that they were.

Sam: (making googly noises at his magnadoodle.)

Me: What are you doing honey?

Sam: Loving what I just drew.

Me: What did you draw honey

Sam: A girl with her boobs and nipples

Me: Let me see that...umm, why did you draw this honey?

Sam: because I love boobs.

Me: Fair enough, but don't draw this for anyone but me and daddy okay, because it's kind of inappropriate.

Sam: I love boobs.

Me: Time to build that shed out back.


I love how this woman is mainly just boob. She has the makings of legs, a maybe a head but mostly she is just boob and nipple. This also happened on the day that he first wrote Mommy perfectly on the same magnadoodle. I'm not sure which one his dad is more proud of.

"Hey Honey bun, where did you put my hammer?"

Me: ahahahhaha Why did you call me Honey Bun?

Sam: Because that is how men talk to ladies

Me: Of course it is, how silly of me.

Everything bad happens at Wal-Mart

Sam: I don't want to be here, I hate it here.

Me: So do I honey, I just have to pick up some pictures.

Sam (when we get to the counter) I don't want to be here, there are too many brown people here.

(a level of anxiety rises in me that I had never experienced before. There was also a large group of African Americans standing right next to us. Hysterically panicked doesn't begin to explain it. )

Me: (whispering) Sam, do not talk like that, I'm serious.

Sam: I'm the one that is serious! There are brown people everywhere and that is gross.

(The angry arm grab is in full effect, and I'm whispering as angrily as I can)

Me: Oh my lord Samuel, that is so horrible, stop saying that,why would you say that?

Sam: You know how they get like that? Because they eat turds, the turds go into the skin and they turn brown so they stink. Brown people stink.

(The African American lady at the counter, has now caught on to the conversation, so I pretend I have to pee)

Me: (in the bathroom) Sam, people are different colors because of a pigment in their skin called Melanin, it makes some people white and some people brown and some people black. It is not because they eat poop.

Sam Really? Promise?

Me: Yes, I promise..they are exactly like you and me.

Sam: Okay good, Because there is a kid at the park that is really nice, and I was mean to him because I thought he was covered in turds. We can be friends now.

Me: That's great honey...

(I never got my prints by the way, I just re-sent them to Walgreens. So now Wal-mart has the pictures of a supposed mother of a racist 5 year old)

"What is a Quiche? Sounds digusting...I'd rather eat a turd"=Sam

"Enough with the kissing already. When you kiss me, I want to barf."-Sam

A picture is worth a thousand messes

This was Sam's reply, or "non reply" to me asking him why he destroyed the living room, and emptied all the boxes I just packed.

Perfect.

No..... appropriate.... response...

Me: Sam, we are meeting with a very important person this week, do you remember?

Sam: Who?

Me: She is the head of a very important school that I am trying to get you into, but you need to show her how smart you are because it costs a lot of money to go there.

Sam: How much money?

Me: A lot of dollars, more than a comedy writer makes...that is all I know. So, we need to impress her with stuff that you can do.

Sam: I will tell her lots of things to impress her, want to know what I will tell her?

Me: sure, what?

Sam: I will tell her that sometimes when I first waked up, my wiener turns into a statue.

Me: (in my head) I literally have no idea what to say in response to that.
Me: (out of my head) Maybe we shouldn't tell her about your penis honey, let's show her that you can write your name.

Sam: Sometimes it turns into a statue when I have to pee too, I bet she would like my wiener story better.

Me: I'm sure she would.

Mom, want to know what I do when I'm bored?

Today was a doozey. During the winter months having a young boy is a lot like keeping a silverback gorilla in your house. I know when I tell people he makes messes, they literally have no comprehension of what I really mean. it's not their fault, I myself didn't know until I had a child that they have a special ability to make a mess out of anything. It's always at the worse time too, what's that? My car needs a new engine? Awesome, because Sam just emptied a bottle of ketchup into my underwear drawer. So, what I'm trying to say is, today was a hard one. The parade of stressful occurances ended with Sam showing me something he does when he is bored...wanna hear about it? Well here you go...

Me: Ugh, baby..You need to lay off Mommy for a while okay?

Sam: Want to know what I do when Im bored?

Me: sure.

(Sam takes me by the hand over to the kitty litter box and proceeds to scrape up about 3 or 4 cat turds. )

Me: Sam, honey get out of the litter box, what are you doing.

(I am so tired and worn out at this point, I barely even whined this to him, and was defeinltey too beat down to even try to stop him.)

Sam: Okay, the first thing you do is get the cat turds, then you open the basement door. Make sure the light is on okay mom?

Me: I dont like where this is going.

Sam: when the door is open and you have the turds, you do this.

(My Son then proceeded to take his shovel full of cat shit, and whip it down the basement stairs at about 60 miles per hour, splattering it against the back wall.)

Sam: See, that's what I do when I'm bored.

I am not kidding when I say, that instead of yelling, I just went into the refrigerator, got a Guiness and laid on the couch. Sometimes, they just win..and today I was glad to throw in the towel. A cold Guiness tastes a whole lot better than yelling at your son and cleaning up cat turds.

Milestone?

For probably 6 months, Sam has been trying to do an armpit fart. He saw one of my brothers do it and has been obsessed ever since. Sam has always been very hard on himself, when he was 3 and couldn't hit a baseball with a regular sized bat, he sat on home plate and said "I'm bad at everything" I know, could it have broken my heart more? NO, no it could not. Anyway, I have no idea where this comes from because I am probably the most encouraging and positive person in the world, probably too encouraging...for example: I have felt really bad for him not being able to armpit fart, not because I really wanted him to do it, but because HE really wanted to be able to do it. The Armpit fart just seems like a right of passage for little boys, and I wanted him to be able to achieve it. Well, we've tried everything, I've even wiped my own spit underneath his armpit thinking that would help (It didn't). Then suddenly today...he did it. What surprised me more than him doing this finally, was how excited I was. You would think he had just learned algebra, I got up and started jumping around like a complete idiot. We were jumping around in a circle holding hands saying "armpit fart" over and over. What in the hell happened to me? I used to be a girl right? If someone came up to me tomorrow and asked me what my most exiting moment this week was and I was being honest, I would have to say: " My son figured out how to make a fart noise with his armpit."

Want to talk to the garbage?

Me: Sure, what does it want to talk about.

Sam: Never mind, it doesn't want to talk to you.

Me: You are a silly goosen foosen.

Sam: That made my wiener tickle.

Me: What did?

Sam. You saying that.

Me: why would it make your wiener tickle?

Sam: Because I put the walkie talkie on my wiener when you said it.

Me: Ummm, okay. I'm sorry?

Sam: I forgive you.

Secret Agent Sam

Sam got Walkie Talkies for his birthday from my Mom and Dad. Within 10 minutes of opening them I was in the back of his closet, "wounded" trying to hide from rogue agents out to kill me. We played this for about an hour, and then when I started making lunch, Sam started telling me everything he was doing into his walkie talkie. This is how it went:

Sam. Mommy, are you still there? Over.

Me: Honey, I told you I'm making lunch, I can't talk on it right now, but keep telling me what you are doing, it's very important, over

Sam. Okay, over

Beeep: I am in the bathroom, I just kicked the cat and he ran away, over.

Beeep: Okay Mom, I'm going upstairs, it's really dirty, you should clean it here it's gross. Over.

Beep: Where is my optimus prime mom, over.

Beep: It's on my dresser, over.

beep: Okay, found it, over.


5 minutes later....


Beep: Okay, going through your box of jewelry that you told me not to, over.

beep: Sam, get out of there.

beep: Sorry, official spy business. Please don't come in your room, over.

beep. Get out now.

beep: ummmm, I think I broke your lamp, please don't be mad, over.

Beep: Get down here and eat your lunch please.

beep: you forgot to say over. I love you, over.

Beep: over

Sam: I'm standing next to you, you don't have to say that.

"Middle of nowhere" continued...

(As we drove home on the long bleak and snowy highway tonight, after his birthday dinner)

Sam: Mom, are you awake?

Me: Umm, yes baby, I'm driving...I have to be awake.

Sam: Oh right. Well, I want you to know I changed my mind.

Me: About what?

Sam: About you taking me to the middle of nowhere.

Me: how do you remember that, it was almost two weeks ago?

Sam: I think about everything a billion times.

Me: Obviously. Okay, so why did you change your mind?

Sam: Because I think we are in the middle of nowhere, and it looks really crappy.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY BOONIE BOO UBER SCOOB BUGLET JONES!!!!

(Yes that is your nickname, get over it.)

Today you turn 5 years old. I had to check your birth certificate to make sure it was true. I knew it would be strange to think that you could be this old already, but strange doesn't even begin to explain it. More than anything, I feel gratitude. You and I have been through a lot together, and though you are very small, you've been a great companion. So I want to thank you.

Thank you for forcing me to grow up
Thank you for challenging me
Thank you for making me laugh harder and cry harder than I ever thought possible.
Thank you for taking the attention away from myself
Thank you for showing me a level of patience I didn't know I had
Thank you for showing me that a clean house isn't more important than a war with your transformers.
Thank you for letting me know that no matter what I accomplish for the rest of my life, you are the greatest thing I have ever done.
Thank you for knowing the perfect time to hug me
Thank you for showing me a little poop never hurt anyone


I am so grateful for the struggle, from your birth to your daily destruction. Being able to be home with you everyday, and watching you grow and learn and become this amazing person is the greatest gift I have ever received. You truly are my best friend, and I can't wait to spend the next 5 having more adventures with you.


Love you Buglet

"Mom, Can I step on this cat toy?"

Me: (not looking at cat toy, trying to pack the car) Sure

Sam: I like to step on this cat toy cause it's squishy.

Me: Squishy? What kind of cat toy is it? Why is it outside?

Sam: Why does this cat toy have sponges and blood on the inside of it.

Me:( Sam walks around the car, HOLDING a furry ball of guts) Because that's not a cat toy, it's a dead squirrel. Please put it down. ( I realize that I cannot convey the amount of hysterics that my voice was expressing at this moment, but try to imagine)

Sam. But I love to step on dead animals

Me: Honey, that is really disgusting. Why would you like to do that?

Sam. Because they sound fun when I squish them. I hate stepping on dead humans though, their blood is gross.

Me: (At a loss for words is a good way to express how I felt right about now)

okay that's nice honey..let's go wash your hands...

SUGAR

See that panther and lion? See what they are playing in on my stairs? No my friends..it's not snow....it's sugar. An entire bag of sugar on my dining room stairs. Fucking A.

"Mom, I want to go away from you forever"

Me: Why is that

Sam: Because you put me in a time out.

Me: Where do you want to go then?

Sam: The middle of nowhere.

Me: You are going to be pretty lonely, do you want to bring one of the cats?

Sam: Pets aren't allowed in the middle of nowhere.

Me: Wow, that sucks. So do you want me to take you there right now?

Sam. No, I want to have my birthday party first, then I want you to take me.

Me: So First your party, then to the middle of nowhere. Got it.

Sam. Actually (his new favorite word) I want you to take my to Grandpas.

Me: So not the middle of nowhere?

Sam: No, I changed my mind.

Me: Why?

Sam: Because the middle of nowhere doesn't have ice cream.

Sam, why does it smell weird down here...

Sam: Because I sprayed your stuff.

Me: What stuff

Sam: Your perfume.

Me: Awesome, that is a 75 dollar bottle of perfume. What did you spray it on?

Sam: The cats

Me: What!? Why would you do that, that can make them very sick.

Sam: Because they smelled like cats.

Me: Well, I Hope you know that cats are very sensitive, and they might die now.

Sam: Well, you said God protects everyone I love, and I love the cats so if they die, it means you lied.

Me: Crap

Where the F!@# is my hair tie!?

In motherhood I have found that it is truly the little things. Not that make you happy, but that keep you from completely having a nervous breakdown. One of these things is a hair tie.
For some reason, all of my horrible moments in motherhood always feature me, sweating with my hair falling and sticking to my face because I cannot find a hair tie. Shitty things always piggy back on top of each other to make an annoying moment 100 times worse than it has to be. For example, here is the list of things that separately are not that bad, but when they all occurred at the same time one hot day in July at a gas station..became one of the worst days of my life.

1. 95 Degrees with 120 thousand percent humidity
2. Very cranky baby in baby carrier than he outgrew 50 pounds ago
3. sticky lip gloss
5. Pants that are too loose and constantly falling down
6. Random intense back pain (probably from carrying ridiculously heavy car seat)
7. Broken air conditioner
8. Tons of people
9. Really windy
10. NO HAIR TIE

FUCK

All of that put together with a hair tie would have maybe been do-able. But I was SANS HAIR TIE and it was horrific. I called my sister hysterically crying like I had just survived some sort of vicious attack. Robbers? No, no my lip gloss kept sticking to my face..it was horrible...

Changing a diaper, doing the dishes, bringing in groceries, vacuuming, putting wet laundry in the dryer...all of these things are plain ordinary occurrences in the home, but can absolutely ruin your day when done without a hair tie...any hair tie.

On a side note, is it just me or does every girl keep one really ugly, stretched out hair tie that is reminiscent of something you would wear to a roller rink in 4th grade as a back up? I always want to throw this giant red fringy thing in my bathroom away, but it never fails, once a year I'm having a hot face attack with no hair ties around and that ugly ass thing saves me.

So, take my advice and every time you are at Target, by that huge long sleeve thing of hair ties. Because I'd rather be swimming in hair ties, then be "Captain hair stuck to face" at a Chuck E. Cheese birthday party.

Look what I found...

Sam: Awww mommy, I didn't know you used to work here. Oh the memories, the great memories you have here.

Me: (obviously laughing) how do you know what that is?

Sam: it's a name tag from a store.

Me: Yes, it is. Do know what it says?

Sam: No

Me: Good.

Sam: did you work there when you were a baby?

Me: Not exactly, but I was a lot younger. A LOT YOUNGER.

Sam: If I work there, can my name tag say turd Sam?

Me: Sure

Sam: Does your heart hurt because you can't work there?

Me: Ahhhhh no, now let's put that back in Mommy's shame bin.

The bridge to nowhere

2 months. For 2 months Sam has been doing this. When he goes #2, he wipes his butt with one end, then rolls he toilet paper out across the bathroom into the bathtub. He told me it was so his turds could escape. I'm not buying it..

Mom, who sings this song?

Me: Phil Collins

Sam: (pauses for a second) Sounds like a nice guy.

Me: Why do you say that?

Sam: Because his last name rhymes with nice.

Me: Umm, no it doesn't.

Sam: It does in my brain language.

Me: good point.

Hey bug, are you excited to fly today?

"Mom listen, when I have my eyes exploded and my butt-hole is wide open and farting, then you'll know I'm excited."

Oh for the love of god...

Today my new pet sitter came over. She is watching my zoo for 6 days, and I am extremely nervous. I think Sam picked up on my anxiety, and because of it wanted to "help". With Sam, "help" almost always means doing something that is going to finally push me over the edge into nervous breakdown canyon. I was downstairs finishing the dishes, because for some reason I was convinced that a pet sitter would look down on me for having dirty dishes. About 5 minutes into dishes, baby rope (Sam named this cat) came downstairs, with what looked like giant side parts in her fur. When I got a better look I realized that chunks of her hair were missing all over. I went upstairs and found Sam holding my other cat Sponge (he also named her) laying on the bed, peaceful as can be, while Sam chopped off her hair with play dough scissors. First of all, how in the fuck do play dough scissors cut cat hair? Anyway, I screamed at him, because I was already anxious about a stranger watching my pets and this was the last thing I needed. He explained to me, that the cats needed to look beautiful, because if they were too ugly, the lady would not feed them and they would die.

How do you argue with that? I mean, he makes sense. He is completely wrong, but he wasn't doing it to be mean. Wonderful, another time that I cannot punish my 4 year old, because he makes too good of an argument. Should be a blast when he's 14.

Oh goody....

Will someone please explain to me why boys are inherently obsessed with toilets? 90% of my daily cleaning that involves swearing, involves the toilet, and toilet related activities.
Honestly, the only way to avoid this stuff from happening is to follow him around constantly, like I had to when he was an toddler with mush legs. 5 free minutes to Sam, means head to the bathroom and do as much damage as possible.

Tonight Sam came down from bed to go to the bathroom. I figured he was half awake and would be too tired to screw around with the toilet. WRONG

I just went in there 5 minutes ago and found the above situation. Which is an entire roll of toilet paper rolled into the toilet with Venom (spider mans evil twin) thrown on top.

I went upstairs hoping he was still awake and he was. This is how the conversation went..

Me: Sam, why did you do that to the toilet?

Sam: What do you mean?

Me: I mean you rolled all the toilet paper into the toilet and threw venom in there. And now the toilet is clogged.

Sam: that's not venom mom, that is my poop. It just looks like Venom because I watch a lot of Spider man and now my poop looks like him.

Me: Sam, that is not true. You need to be honest with me because you made a big mess and I am very upset right now.

Sam: Okay, well the truth (pronounced Troof) is that Venom told me he was going to kill you, so I threw him in the toilet. I didn't' want you to die mom.

Me: Well thank you, but next time just punch him okay?

Sam: Okay, I'm glad your alive though.

Me: I am too Sam, goodnight.


Well I'm off to fish a evil twin out of the toilet and comprehend why my life has digressed to rescuing superhero shaped pieces of shit.

Do not trust this person.

A favorite past time of my son, is to say or do something extremely sweet, and then for comedic relief immediately do something violent or disgusting. It's almost as if my adoration for him makes him uncomfortable. Would you like an example? Here, let me share my morning with you...

7 am: I wake up with a 45 pound 4 year old sitting on my chest staring at me.

Me: Good morning baby, how are you today?

Sam: My lips aren't chapped anymore, and do you want to know why that is good?

Me: Of course

Sam: Because I need my lips to be able to smile, smiling reminds me of how much I love you.

7:05 AM. I stare in amazement, unable to speak because of the beautiful thing my son just said.

7:06. Sam starts to reach around in to his butt. Normally I would immediately sense danger, but because he just said something so profound I let it slide.

7:07 Sam pulls his hand out, with this creepy satisfied look on his face, says absolutely nothing and proceeds to smear shit on my arm.

7:08 Sam laughs, runs away while screaming "Turd arm, turd arm" as loud as he can. Honestly, I didn't even fight back. This must be his plan. He stuns me with kindness, and then wipes shit on me...literally.

*For those of you who are new to Sam stories, half of the time they involve poop. Poop has been a big part of my life for the past 4 years. So, hope you have strong stomachs...

On a side note, do you know what it is like to cook breakfast for a person who just shit on you? If he thinks I am making bacon he is out of his GD mind.

Samuel, please stop kicking me...we will go, when I am done with the laundry

"I can't stop mom, It's not my problem, it's my body's problem..and my body wants to kick you right now."

Sam, why did you pee in the litter box again?

"I can't go pee in the toilet, it's only to put fish in when they die."

"Watch how I wipe my turd butt"

Sam was potty trained fairly easily. Basically, I waited until he seemed interested, put him on the can and he's been going in there ever since. The only issue is that he cannot, well I will not, let him wipe his own butt when he goes #2. The reason being:

Huge toilet bowl+Short arms+poopy butt =Poopy Hands.

Sometimes he poops without telling me (aka screaming: "I am going turd" at the top of his lungs). When he does this, it's a whole "to do". I have to inspect his naked butt for poop smear, check his hands for brown and pray to god he didn't put a turd hand print on the wall.

So last night, I hear him get out of bed, come downstairs, run back upstairs, jump around on the floor, run back downstairs and then flush the toilet. After this he comes tearing into my office screaming "Mommy, watch how I wipe my turd butt" After a good 30 second groan of shit cleaning anticipation I tell him to show me his butt so I can see the number he pulled on his cheeks. To my surprise it was clean as a whistle.

My thoughts immediately went to where in the house his turds were. Smeared on the mirror, on the bathroom floor, the sky is the limit with my boy....

He takes me into the bathroom, which is also clean and proceeds to explain to me his new method of butt-wiping, which is as follows and written exactly how he said it:

Step One. Go turd and squirt in the toilet

Step Two. Roll up a ball of toilet paper, an jump off the toilet

Step Three. Get toilet paper real wet with water from the toothbrush sink

Step Four. Put ball of toilet paper way in my butt

Step Five. (he proceeds to take my hand and waddle up the stairs) You go upstairs and squeeze your butt together really tight .

Step 6 (he takes me back downstairs) now you go back downstairs and that is when the most poop gets off you.

Step 7.You throw the poop ball in the toilet, and your butt is good as new!

a bit of overkill? Yes..but my son has figured out a way to wipe his butt without me having to get poop underneath my fingernails when he squirms, and that my friends is fine...just fine indeed