My Purse

Today I decided to clean out my purse and I was horrified by the strange things I found in them.  It got me thinking about what my purse looks like now, as a mother, and what my purse used to look like when I wasn’t a mother.  Below are the differences (in poem form of course, because frankly, who can resist a poem?):

I once had a cute purse that I would clutch under my arm as I trotted into the bar,

Now, I have a mom purse flung over my shoulder so it won’t go far.

My purse was once filled with hair spray, make-up and lip gloss,

It is now filled with child friendly snacks like smashed Captain Crunch and a month old banana that I’m sure is full of moss.

My purse is now a desired toy and I just shake my head when I see it hanging from a tree,

 As I watch my nephews cheer with glee.

It is the keeper of quarters for every crane game,

And as I dig for quarters I wonder; will my purse ever be the same?

My purse has transformed not by choice, but because I do things I’m told.

And because of that, my purse is now a holder of all things desired by a three year old.

One day I hope my little guy falls in love with his very own murse,

So I can, once again, have back my purse.  

Side note: A “Murse” is a man-purse.

Happy Sunday- Enjoy your week!

Who Doesn't Love a Little Butt Grab?

On Friday, Cory’s sister Emily graduated from High School (Yay- shout out to Emily).  (No, I am not too old or pale skinned to do a shout out but I do feel that the older you get, the more sparingly you should use them). Chase really enjoyed Emily’s graduation ceremony; well let me rephrase that; he enjoyed the end when everyone was standing around congratulating the graduates. 

After the actual ceremony, we were walking around the crowded gymnasium trying to decipher our graduate from the other graduates in their caps and gowns (it’s interesting how much people look alike when they are all wearing the same thing).  I was holding Chase’s hand to make sure he wouldn't get lost in the crowd of people.  As we got half way through the crowded gymnasium I noticed that guys (of all ages) were turning around and looking down at my child with a confused look on their face, but I didn't think much of it (as this happens more than you would think) and continued on our way to find Emily.  We finally found Emily and after a while of taking pictures and chatting we left. 

This time Cory held Chase’s hand and I followed behind them.  A few seconds into the walk to the other end of the gymnasium to leave, I saw gentlemen, again, looking down at Chase as he passed.  This seemed strange so I took a second and observed as my child trotted through the sea of people and I noticed something- something disturbing, but hilarious.  

Every time Chase would pass a male (of any age, ranging from teens to grandpas) who was facing away from him, he would reach his little hand up to their derriere and give it a little pinch. Obviously the men would turn around to see who had just violated them. As they made eye contact with Chase he would just innocently smile at them and continue on his way.  Chase would then giggle to himself as he scanned the crowd for his next victim.  

Needless to say, we had to hold both of Chase’s hands as we walked out of the graduation ceremony to get him to stop assaulting bystanders.  As we made it to the exit door of the gymnasium Chase looked up at Cory and me and said, “Oh man; that was funny.”  All Cory and I could do was laugh, because Chase was right, it was funny.     

Who doesn't paint with gloves on?

Red-rum and Frozen

So, we spent this memorial day weekend at the cabin and it proved to be another entertaining weekend with my little love (not that I expected anything different from my main squeeze).  Cory and his dad made Chase a tire swing. Chase spent many hours on the swing flying through the air with a slight breeze whispering through his curly hair. Out of nowhere while Cory's mom was pushing Chase in the swing, Chase raised his pointer finger high in the air and curled it like a hook. He looked Cory's mom right in the eye and growled, "red-rum." Cory`s mom, Lynne, did this action back to chase thinking he said, "red worm." I'm sure you can imagine my embarrassment when I had to correct her and say, "No. Chase didn't say red worm. He was actually saying, "red-rum"- which is murder spelt backwards." Cute huh?  (I'm guessing only Norma Bates and I have had this parenting experience.) On a much more pleasant note, one afternoon while I slipped away to my bedroom at the cabin to try to catch a quick nap (wishful thinking) I heard a sweet little knock at my door followed by a familiar tune- adlibbed a bit to fit Chase's needs of course (any parent out there know what movie this is from?), "Mommy, do you want to build a snowman? Or ride our bikes out in the hall? I think some company is overdue." Followed by a squeaky little giggle (obviously Chase was marveling at his wonderful singing voice and his spot on performance).  After hearing this I couldn't help but think two things.... 1. My child is a theatrical wizard (naturally) and 2. When will Frozen finally leave our lives? (It's like the herpes of Disney movies. Just when you think it's gone, you suffer from another outbreak. If only there was a topical cream for this.) Any who, Happy Memorial Day everyone! Artist Chase, completing his morning drawing while still in his pjs.  Isn't that when your best work is done? Painting a bird house.  Doesn't he look like Van Gogh?

Chase: 3, My Self-Esteem: 0

With my passion of writing comes my passion to find meaning in things- even if it isn't always there.  Being a parent has taught me that sometimes, I just need to take things at face value. 

Exhibit A:  The other day while Chase and I were walking outside (holding hands of course, because frankly, he isn't going to want to hold my hand for much longer so I need to take advantage of it now.) Chase looks at me and says, “You can always be my lady.”  As I attempted to hold back tears of simple delight, I looked at my little guy and said, “I will always be your lady.”  Then, looking directly back at me he says, without even blinking, “Yeah, my lady who always eats my snacks.”  (Chase:1, My self-esteem: 0)

Exhibit B: Chase and I were in the living room playing blocks, because I mean what else would I be doing on a Friday night?  Out of nowhere Chase says, “Mommy, you are on my side.”  Thinking this was some sort of relationship epiphany, I replied, “I will always be on your side buddy, no matter what I will be by your side.  You can always count on me.”  He then looked at me and said, “No, you are on my side of the blocks. You are blocking the red block that’s mine.”  (Chase: 2, My self-esteem: (still) 0)

Exhibit C: The other morning I got sick and was throwing up.  (No. It was not morning sickness as my father so kindly asked.) I must have caught a flu bug.  Cory was on a guy’s trip so it was just me and Chase at home.  I was in the bathroom sitting on a children’s stool with my head in the toilet (I was a little happy that I had a child that required a stool to reach the faucet because the stool came in handy and actually made my puking experience a little bit better than simply sitting on the cold tile).  Chase had followed me into the bathroom.  He laid his tiny little hand on my back and patted it.  In between hurling into the toilet I thought, Wow, my child is so sweet.  He is trying to make me feel better.  Moments later Chase asked, “Mommy, if you are puking who is going to turn on Scooby Doo for me?”   

(Chase: 3, My self-esteem: 0)

My self-esteem had one hell of a week. 

My Uterus, A Sock and A Smack in the Face

Hello world.  Sorry I haven’t blogged in a while.  We have had many life changes in the last few weeks (and no, we are not having another child and the life changes are all positive ones- depending on how you look at them.  But from my view- very positive!).

But speaking of having another child; I had a very disturbing conversation with my nephew, Holden, on Mother’s Day (of all days).  My nephew told me that he thinks I should have another child; specifically a girl.  (It seems as though everyone has very strong opinions about how my uterus should be filled right now- even children. And I say- “Uterus, who needs that?  I’ll swap my uterus for an extra liver any day.”) But in Holden’s mind there would be one catch to adding this happy addition to our family (isn’t there always a catch?). 

Holden sat me down and said, “You should have a baby girl.  But it’s too bad you will have to sell Chase to another country.”  Horrified at this statement, but willing to encourage it, I asked him, “What Country would we sell him too?” (I had my fingers crossed that it wasn't somewhere sunny because, like me, Chase has been blessed with skin pigment similar to Casper- and we all know how expensive sun screen can be.)  Holden replied, “Oh probably just California.”  Luckily, he is just in kindergarten and has many, many years to brush up on his geography.    

       

On another note- This past week I have gotten to spend more time at home with Chase.  And you know what more time at home means; more nap times (cha-ching)!  While getting to be a part of more nap times, there are a couple of things I have learned you don't want to hear from your toddler as you are trying to blissfully drift off to sleep:

1. “Open your mouth and close your eyes and you will get a big surprise.” (I actually fell for this one- I know what you’re thinking.  Didn't you go to college?  Shouldn't you know to never ever close your eyes and open your mouth?  But I out of the corner of my eye I saw a Hershey’s chocolate bar sitting on the bed and thought that Chase would pop that into my mouth as my “big surprise.”  But no, I got a stinky sock balled up and shoved into my mouth.  Followed by the sound of a toddler cackling in the background.  (Please don’t ask why there was a chocolate bar in bed to begin with.)

2. “Want to see my magic trick?”  This turned out to not be a magic trick at all.  It turned out to be just a simple slap in the face- Literally; Chase smacked me in the face and said, “Tada.” (As if adding Tada at the end made it magical.)

Anyway, who cares? It was just a measly, moldy sock in the mouth and a slightly bruised face. But I got a three hour nap one day and to me that is a parenting win.  

Homeless Man In My Bed

First and foremost, I apologize for my blog laziness. I have had mono and have become a huge bump on a log. I’m starting to think the fabric of my couch is starting to stain my skin a delightful olive green color as a result of laying on it so much.  Although, who would have thought that having mono is the best way to get back down to your ideal weight?  Mono is doing wonders for my self-esteem. 

Any who...

This week I have learned something about my child; he is very passionate and loves to share.  Well not share his things of course, but my only offspring is certainly quick to offer up my belongings. 

The other day Chase and I were driving down the road to the grocery store.  There is a stoplight in our town that is on the way to the grocery store.  I usually try to avoid at all costs.  Not because I dislike stoplights, but because I dislike being stopped for a grueling 4 minutes in front of a man holding a sign that reads, “Homeless, anything helps.”  

Don’t get me wrong, I don’t dislike people who are experiencing homelessness, I have worked at a homeless shelter for 7 years now, but I would rather the sign say, “Homeless, Can I get someone loan me $2 for a bus ticket to go to the local homeless shelter where I can get connected with a social worker there to help me find a job, save money and secure stable housing?”  But I guess this gentleman’s sign was too small for that.  

So, of course, as I pull up to the stoplight it turns red.  Not just regular red but a red that screams, “ha-ha” (of course in the voice of Nelson from the Simpsons) as I put on my brakes to come to a complete stop. 

All was going well until Chase locked eyes with the man holding the sign.  Of course this peaked his curiosities, which lead to him asking, “Mom, what does hims sign say?”  So I read the sign (or the interpretation that I thought Chase would understand), “I don’t have anywhere to live.  Can someone help me?”  Chase was quiet for a minute as if deciding where he stands on this matter. 

Chase then asked, “Can he live with his family?”  I thought this was a completely logical question and answered, “The sign doesn't talk about his family, but I would guess probably not.  Maybe his family lives far, far away.”  Chase paused for a few seconds then said, “He’s a boy.  He can sleep in your bed.  Boys can always sleep in your bed.”  (Um, come again?  It’s not like my bedroom has a revolving door, but apparently my child thinks that.)  Now this time, I paused for a second to process what he just said and try to piece together my dignity before I answered.  So I replied, “Chase, honey, only you and daddy can sleep in my bed.  We don’t let strangers sleep in our bed.  Please remember that when you are away at college.”  (Okay, so I totally could have left out the college part, but as a parent it’s my duty to throw my parenting plugs in whenever possible.  I saw an opportunity and took it). 

At this point Chase started to become upset and said (quite loudly while flailing his arms in the air), “We have to share our stuff.  We have lots to share.”  (Well, the kid had a point and I have been trying to stress sharing for the last few weeks and I didn't want to be a hypocrite, so the homeless gentleman got in our car and we headed home so I could share my bed.  Haha just kidding.  Do you think I’m that crazy?). 

Trying to get Chase off of the topic of mom and bed sharing, I asked him if we should buy the homeless gentleman some food.  Chase asked, “Where is he going to eat?  We have another chair at our table in the kitchen by Daddy’s spot.” (This is the one time I’m regretting not having a second child to fill that empty seat in the kitchen).  I replied (trying everything I could to distract my child from the fact that he so desperately wants this homeless man to come to our house), “What food should we buy the man at the grocery story?”  Chase replies, in typical three year old fashion, “Well, not the cookies with sprinkles I want.”  (And there it is ,back to reality).

As we passed the corner on our way home from the grocery store, where the homeless man was previously standing, he was no longer there.  I wonder if another 3 year old convinced his mother to bring the gentleman home.

Anatomy 101

Well, the time has come.  I have been dreading this for years, but in no way did I expect it to come this quickly and without warning… 

Last week while Chase and I were in the bathtub, Chased asked where my “pee-pee” was.  (I was simply blind-sided. I always knew the conversation would come up eventually but I thought I would at least have had 2 more years to prepare my speech or find an appropriate YouTube video to have him watch that would alleviate any responsibility that I have regarding this topic.) In a panicked state I blurted out the first thing that came to mind (which actually was correct), “Mommy doesn’t have a penis like you.”  And of course Chase had another question, “Then what do you have?”  So, I told him the anatomically correct parts that allow society (and medical experts) to decipher between a male and female.  (I have never been one to hide things from my child and I am very honest with him, but I do have to say, I cringed after saying, “Vagina” out loud to my three year old child.  Although it wasn’t intended to sound dirty, it did send a chill down my spine.)

A few seconds after Chase and I finished our conversation (right when I was patting myself on the back for thinking quickly on my feet), I heard Cory pipe in from outside the bathroom door (apparently he was listening to the entire anatomy lesson), “I'm glad I wasn't part of that conversation.” 

So, Chase let this conversation settle in his brain for a few days.  Until...

Last Friday, my Mom was over and her and Chase were having an afternoon snack at the table.  Chase looked at her and said, “Boys have a penis and girls have a gina.”  My mom, a little taken back by the blunt statement said, “You are right.”  My mom looked at me with big eyes, hoping I would interject into the conversation, but I did what any parent would do; I shrugged my shoulders to indicate she was on her own.  After all, I was on my own with round one of our conversation. 

But of course my chatty Chasey couldn’t just leave the conversation at that (like me, he always has follow-up questions- I must have passed down my journalistic gene).  He looked, ever so somberly at his Grandmother and asked, “Can you take off your clothes so I can see your gina?”  This is when I exited the room so I could laugh out loud.

Chase totally had a legitimate question but he shouldn’t get into the habit of asking others to see their “private areas.”

(Side note: My mother didn’t agree to Chase's request.)  J