We've moved

Since this blog was active, we moved overseas and back again. Now you can read about the boogers' latest adventures at www.boogersabroad.com.

Wednesday, October 19, 2011

When I grow up

Like so many of the best conversations, this one happened today in the car.

Mo: I'm going to have a lot of kids when I grow up.

Me:  Oh yeah.

Mo: Yeah. I'm going to have a van. And I'm going to have as many kids as there are seats in the van.

Me: Why do you want so many kids?

Mo: So I can put them in time out!

Curly: When I grow up, I'm driving a car.

Me: Great.

Curly: And I'm going to lock the windows on you, Mom!

(Curly can reach the window controllers from his car seat with his feet. He's infamous for opening and shutting them on really cold days, so I mostly keep the power windows locked.)

Monday, October 3, 2011

Recent gems from Mo

We're out for dinner. The server asks for our drink orders. Mo looks her in the eye, "Well, I always like beer."

One afternoon shortly after starting first grade: "Mom, they have these cool puzzles at school. They're kind of complicated and have a lot of pieces. They're called chainsaw puzzles."

I babysit a neighbor kid after school. He and Mo constantly fight for my attention, and Mo started accusing me of liking the other kid better. That night before bed I explained to Mo that I'll always love Curly and him the best, because they're MY kids.

So the next day he tells the neighbor kid: "My Mom's really nice to you, but she actually likes me better. She told me. Why don't you ask her? Mom, don't you like me WAY better than him?"

Tuesday, September 20, 2011

Curly's Halloween costume

I'm a sucker for group Halloween costumes. Must have started the year my college roommates and I dressed as KISS. We looked awesome.

Last year Curly and Mo masqueraded as Mario and Luigi. It was a hoot.

This year - after watching the movie and seeing a live performance of The Wizard of Oz - I thought PERFECT.

I can be Dorothy. Dad wants to be the Scarecrow. Mo loves robots and gladly offered to dress up as the Tin Man.

So Curly can be the Cowardly Lion. Right? Wouldn't that be adorable?

Well, Curly doesn't think so.

How about Toto? Or a munchkin? Perhaps the Wizard himself.

Nope. Nada. No way, silly Mama.

What does Curly want to be for Halloween? Sticking with the Wizard of Oz theme, of course...

Curly wants to be the tornado. Yep, the tornado.

Good thing we have a few weeks here. Any creative types out there, don't be shy. I could use some ideas, people.

Thursday, September 8, 2011

Eight days with Mo and a two-wheel bike

Day 1: After a week of riding his new scooter, Mo decides to jump on his two-wheeler bike -- sans training wheels. He takes off, down hills, around corners, an instant professional.

That whole business with mom or dad running behind and holding the seat? Guess we missed out.

Day 2: Mo begs to start riding his bike as soon as he wakes at 6:30 a.m. He spends as much time as humanly possible on the little bike -- stopping only begrudgingly to eat and use the bathroom.

Day 3: I take Mo and a buddy to the park on their bikes. I learn that running behind them with a stroller isn't gonna cut it. When he's on a bike, I need to be on a bike or get left in the dust.

After this one-mile ride, Mo begs for a longer excursion.

Day 5: We plan to take Mo a couple miles down the bike path and back -- but he insists we keep going and going. Our bike path is a loop around a lake, so after about six miles we commit to going the whole way.

Mo rides his little two-wheeler for 16 miles, only stopping once to play at a park. Took about two hours total.

Day 6: Mo complains about "fizzy wrists" from his long ride the previous day. I buy him biking gloves.

Mo starts riding one-handed.

He also gets out a rope, with the brilliant idea to tow Curly behind him on the tricycle. Yeah, I don't think so.

Day 7: I decide to sign up Mo (and Dad and I, Curly in the trailer) for his first official bike ride, a breast cancer fundraiser. 10 miles. Should be a breeze.

He also ignores my warnings, convinced he's seasoned enough to ride off curbs. He also tries riding no-handed. (I ride no-handed a lot. Great example there Mom.)

Day 8: Mo learns the meaning of road rash. He takes a hill way too fast, misses the tight curve, flips over the handle bars.

Surface level damage only, no broken bones. Yet.

Any ideas what he might try tomorrow?

Friday, August 26, 2011


Mo turned six this week, and he starts first grade on Sept. 1.

So what's he up to these days?

He wore polka dot socks and flip flops an entire day last week. He requested a fondue restaurant for his birthday party. And his favorite song is "The Sweater Song" by Weezer.

He's smart and sassy as ever.

For example. The kid's got a mouth on him. I try to stop the "naughty" words (stupid, shut-up, hate, dumb, fat butt, chainsaw-your-head-off) but they just keep a-comin. A friend has been denying her kids the next snack each time they say a bad word. I explained this to Mo. He thought about it quite seriously and then replied: "OK I get it. I can only say bad words when I'm not hungry."

To get to know him better, his first grade teacher sent home a little questionnaire. When asked to name three things he's good at, Mo answers: "Napping. Underwater handstands. And eating popcorn."

Sunday, July 17, 2011

Sassy doesn't stop for summer

Mo is especially gifted with it comes to loud, gassy noises. In summer school last week, he belched loud enough to stop his teacher mid-lesson.

I guess she then asked him, "What was that for?"

And he replied, "Well, Ms. T, that was just for you!"

At least that's how he recounted the story. He emphasized that she laughed, and Mo was very proud that his teacher thinks he's funny. I'm not sure if he said "Excuse me" during the exchange, but a mother can hope.

On a totally separate note, Curly's convinced that basketball is actually called "bounce-a-ball." If you try to tell him any differently, he will insist that you are wrong.

Friday, July 1, 2011

Flashback Friday: Making everyone happy

I'm feeling a little nostalgic now that Curly's (almost, almost) potty trained and rarely takes naps anymore.

Got to thinking about how I used to handle those frustrating times when I'd finally get Curly down and then Mo would wake him up -- and then he'd do it again, and again. Nothing like wasting two hours of your day just trying to get your kid to nap.

Eventually I got creative so that we all ended up with what we wanted.

I'd pack us all in the car -- giving Curly his blankie and a bottle. I'd bribe Mo to stay totally quiet, and as soon as Curly feel asleep we'd pull into the nearest McDonalds drive thru. I'd get coffee and he'd get a lemonade or yogurt parfait. Then I'd find a nice construction site and park.

Mo was then allowed to sit next to me in the passenger seat. He'd eat his yogurt and watch the diggers and dump trucks. I'd turn on my book-on-CD and sip my coffee.

And everybody was happy.

Tuesday, June 14, 2011

Mo: Bow chicka WOW WOW

Yesterday Mo asked me, "Is bow chicka WOW WOW a bad word?"

I laughed. I asked where he learned that. (Answer: Ben in his class.)

Dad chuckled and mumbled to me, "No, that's a very good word."

But it got me wondering, what exactly is the correct response to that question?

And I can only imagine where we'll be - in some future time and place - when Mo again decides to test out the phrase, "Bow chicka WOW WOW."

Saturday, June 11, 2011

Curly's trick for swallowing icky medicine

Part of Curly's ongoing recovery is four daily doses of Flagyl, one of the grossest meds around. Seriously, even the pharmacist told me, "It doesn't get much worse than Flagyl."

I tasted it, and immediately I felt like I was going to throw up.

So, needless to say, it's been a struggle to get Curly to take it. We tried everything from mixing it with chocolate syrup and his favorite ice cream, to begging and cajoling him, to forcing it down his throat with a syringe -- and getting it spit right back in our faces.

But I few days ago, I stumbled on the answer. The key to getting a 3-year-old to take "icky medicine."

1. Put the meds in a small medicine cup.
2. Mix in a squirt of food coloring -- we prefer blue.
3. Cut a straw to about 2 inches.
4. Let the little one sip it up, in between drinks of lemonade.

I know it's strange, but Curly's now taken 16 doses this way. No more crying, struggling or tantrums.

Tuesday, June 7, 2011

Recovering from a rough week

No funny stories today. I just haven’t been feelin’ it lately. That’s probably why I’ve all but abandoned this blog.

If anyone’s still out there reading, here’s the scoop: Curly got sick last week. Real sick. And Dad was on the other side of the country for business. And I got pretty rattled.

At first I kept thinking Curly was getting better.

Sure, he’d had a low-grade fever for two days, but then it was gone. But the next day the fever came back. But then it was gone again.

Sure, he had diarrhea. But he gets diarrhea all the time.

After four days of this, I called the doctor’s office to speak with a nurse. I figured they’d call in a prescription or maybe ask to see him in clinic. That’s how it usually goes.

When I finally caught the nurse on the phone – we’d been playing phone tag – she asked me about the bad poops. In the two hours since I’d first called her, he’d had four explosions. That and the fever and the fact that he hadn’t had a wet diaper since Saturday (it was Wednesday) …

“We can admit him to the hospital or you can take him to the ER,” she said. “But if he goes to the ER, we’ll just admit him anyway. So save yourself a step and bring him right to the hospital. We’re getting his bed ready now.”

Suddenly I had to figure out what to do with Mo. Where would he sleep? Who could get him back and forth to school? Should I even bother sending him to school?

Leaving Curly alone at the hospital was unthinkable – he’s a mama’s boy to begin with. And the little guy was so sick and barely even three years old. He needed his mom! And for my part, I needed to know exactly what was going on with him, ASAP.

Without question, if Curly was sleeping at the hospital, I was sleeping at the hospital.

I did a horrid job packing. But that’s what Target’s for. (There's a Target right by the hospital.)

Our friends all stepped up to care for Mo, and many others offered their help.

Curly got on IV fluids and heavy-duty antibiotics. After one explosive diaper, he started having wet ones again – thank goodness. He started looking better. He couldn’t eat for 24+ hours and they kept him hospitalized three days/two nights. But he’s OK. We’re all OK.

His doctor told me that even after the bad part of the colon is removed from Hirschsprung kids, about 30 percent have ongoing issues with potentially life-threatening infections (enterocolitis) until they’re about six. He said, “If this is his first hospitalization since his surgeries, I’d say were doing pretty good.”

The only thing that made me feel "good" was knowing that we’ll only have to worry about enterocolitis for three more years.

Friday, May 27, 2011

More lessons from kindergarten

Shortly after Mo started kindergarten I posted some of the cultural things he was learning -- like "Girls go to Jupiter to get more stupider."

As the end of the school year approaches, I realize how lousy I've been at recording all of the other, ahem, important social lessons he's picked up. In no particular order:
  • Guess what? Chicken butt.
  • Mama had a baby and the head popped off [pops the head off dandelion].
  • Lame. This is word is now outlawed in my house!
  • Dude. Mo calls every boy his age, "dude."
  • Not everyone is a vegetarian.
  • Not everyone lives with their mom and dad -- or has a mom and dad.
  • Idiot. When he's upset, Mo says, "Everyone thinks I'm an idiot." Urg.
  • Crybaby. One of the worst insults, apparently, that you can hurl at a kindergartner.
  • The name of every kindergartner who's thrown up at his school this year. Trust me, I get updates all the time.
  • All the words to "Last Christmas." Who knew that WHAM! was so big with the kindergarten set?

Wednesday, May 25, 2011


Now that Curly's talking more, I love hearing his strange expressions and interesting observations. Here are a few Curlyisms.

When wind blew the blossoms off our flowering pear tree: It's raining popcorn!

After discovering my elbow: Your arm has a knee! It's your knee arm.

His explanation of being naked: Running with my [boy part].

After I told him "We need to change your butt," he corrected me: I need a diaper change, Mom! Not a butt change.

Friday, May 13, 2011

"Peep" show at Target

Before you read this, you should know that Curly's new favorite show is a cartoon about a baby bird called "Peep and the Big Wide World."

Our conversation today at Target

Curly: I wanna go home. I wanna watch a show.

Me: We'll be done in a minute.

Curly: I want my Peep show.

Me: OK, OK.


Me: Ssshhhhhh.


Me: Yes, Kid. We'll go home in a minute, and you'll get your Peep show.

Curly: Yeah, yeah. Peep show!

Wednesday, May 4, 2011

Two bucks -- or 20

Dad asked if I'd stop at the bank and get some cash. The next day I left him two $20s on the kitchen counter.

We've been so busy, and he works such long hours, that we never talked about the 40 bucks on the counter. That's typical for us.

I noticed the money was gone when I woke up at 6:30 the next morning (he was already off to work) so that was that.

When he came home that night, he asked, "Did you have a chance to get to the bank?"

I started looking frantically through the piles that inevitably form on every kitchen surface. Dug through the bills, homework, junk mail, newspapers, edited pages of my latest project. Still no money.

Mo's been interested in money lately, especially when it comes to padding his piggy bank (remember Valentine's Day?). So I asked if he'd taken the 40 bucks on the counter.

"Nope," he said immediately. But then he paused and I could see him thinking hard. "Well, I did take two dollars off the counter yesterday."

We trailed him to his piggy bank and sure enough, he'd stuffed two $20s - or as Mo saw it, two dollar bills - right on top.

Wednesday, April 27, 2011

Big changes in Boogerland

Wow. A whole month since my last post.

And let me tell you, a lot can happen in a month!

Here's what's up in Boogerland:
  • Dad got promoted. He works his butt off and he's super-smart, so I wasn't surprised. He's earned it and we're so proud of him!
  • I quit my corporate job of 10+ years. It was hard leaving the people, and I really miss them. But I hadn't been happy with the job itself for a while. This was a long time coming - and with my husband's overwhelming support and encouragement, I finally had the guts to give my notice.
  • We took Curly out of day care and Mo out of his before-school  program. We've had the same amazing day care lady since Mo was three-months old. When Curly was in the NICU she visited almost every day, and she's always been there when we needed her (we don't have any family in town). Of course we keep in touch, but it's a hard change - even though I'm loving the additional time with my boys.
  • I've picked up some freelance writing work that I really enjoy - and will probably look for some more one of these days (when I have time!).
  • My writing partner and I have edited and rewritten our screenplay enough times that we're getting very close to pitching it. This has been a labor of love for the past six months, interviewing and researching the real-life story of an amazing caregiver and the WWII vet she cares for.
  • Oh, and I'm training for my first triathlon.
OK, that ended up being mostly about me! This blog is supposed to be about the Booger Boys. They're as spunky and trouble-seeking as ever. Stay tuned for more. Hopefully it won't take another month for my next post!

Wednesday, March 30, 2011

Six clues that your 2-year-old is messing with your computer

6. You find your computer with 57 windows open.

5. Your printer's out of paper and low on ink. When you investigate, you find printed pictures of every Backyardigan. Make that, about 16 copies of each Backyardigan. And a few extra of Tosha the hippo.

4. Your child's name is typed over and over and over into whatever program you left open.

3. All your desktop icons are moved around.

2. Your antivirus software is uninstalling.

1.  You get out of the shower to find your office door closed. You hear giggling. You open the door and find...

Monday, March 28, 2011

Well Dressed (little) Man

As you probably gathered, Mo dresses himself. And I'm his biggest supporter. Unless it's inappropriate for the weather, I let him wear whatever he darn well pleases.

I did, however, drop a hint that picture day at school was coming up - noting that it would be great if he could put on something special the following morning.

He didn't disappoint.

At first glance, what a sharp young man! He picked out a dress shirt from Lands End in the perfect shade of blue to bring out his beautiful eyes.

And then I took a closer look.

He paired the nice shirt with some black sweat pants and rolled-down blaze orange socks.

Maintaining my laissez-faire wardrobe philosophy, I bit my tongue and politely asked if he might consider putting on a nicer pair of pants. Khakis, cords, even jeans?

He didn't even look up from his cartoons to reply: "You can only see from here [putting a hand on his lower-chest] and up in the picture."

Touche, Little Man.

Go forth with your sweat pants and orange socks - and nice blue dress shirt. I'm sure your school pictures will be adorable.

Saturday, March 19, 2011

A lesson in sore bottoms

Every kid has diaper rash at some point. We used A&D for Mo, and he usually cleared right up.

Curly's a different story.

I knew that with his Hirschsprung disease diagnosis, Curly would have diaper rash problems, especially right after his colostomy was reversed and he had pull-through surgery. But two years later, it's still a problem, especially when he's having tummy trouble. I know it's par for the course when you don't have your entire colon, but it continues to be a learning experience.

Sorry if I sound like a complainer, but this is what the last week's been like:
  • Physically restraining the little guy as he thrashes, kicks and cries to avoid diaper changes
  • Watching him walk with stiff legs and stand while he eats, plays, etc., since it's too painful to sit
  • Getting a call to pick him up from day care because his bottom's so sore
  • Trying to clean him any way we could think of - including putting him in the bathtub (he'd stand or kneel but never sit) or putting his little behind right up to the shower head
  • Playing games with him and letting him watch cartoons from the potty, to avoid the Dreaded Diaper Change
  • Consulting on the phone with doctors, nurses and pharmacists
  • Spending a small fortune on diaper creams
  • Watching his bottom go from irritated red, to fire engine red, to bumpy and creeping down his legs, to dark purple and then finally fading
I'm pleased to report he's worlds better now. At diaper change time, he's a different kid - laying down nicely and flinging his little feet in the air.

With all the meds we've tried, it's hard to say what did the trick - or maybe it was just that his tummy bug subsided. But I'm forever grateful to the Hirschsprung moms who gave me advice on Facebook during this whole ordeal. You ladies are an invaluable resource, and I can't thank you enough!

Thursday, March 17, 2011

Mo outsmarts the Leprechauns

I thought I'd be cute and leave some green sprinkles on the counter (Leprechaun poop!) and die the milk green (those pesky guys!) last night after the Booger Boys were in bed.

This morning I expected the kids to get a big kick out of the whole thing. Mo's Kindergarten teacher had the whole class make Leprechaun traps earlier this week, and the kids went crazy when they found the messes and "gold" the tiny green guys left behind.

Apparently I'm not nearly as clever as I think.

Mo took one look at the "poop" and said, "Those are just sprinkles, Mom."

He laughed about the milk, but then added, "I guess the Leprechauns found the food coloring in the cabinet."

Curly just looked at it and said, "Me not like green milkie. Icky!"

Thursday, March 10, 2011

Curly tells me off

Because of Curly's Hirschsprung Disease, he's prone to horrible diaper rash. To make matters worse, he requires more diaper changes than the average bear.

So tonight was a rough night. He has a very sore little bottom.

And now that he's talking a lot better, he decided to tell me exactly what was on his mind. After a bad diaper change - in which he fought me the entire time - he came up to me with this sad little expression.

"Ma, you hurt me. You make me cry."

Go ahead and twist the knife, Little Man.

Just imagine if he could've talked during his surgeries and his seven months of dilations. I have a good idea of what he would have said -- or yelled -- at us.

Friday, March 4, 2011

Deep thoughts from Mo and Curly

Mo's deep thought of the evening:

"When you fall down and you're in a bouncy house, it doesn't hurt. Because it's just air. But air can hurt you. Because a tornado is just air, and a tornado could definitely hurt you."

Curly's deep thought of the evening:

"I be bad. I go to my house, and I be bad. I like be bad."

Wednesday, March 2, 2011

When did Mo grow up?

A strange thing is happening inside my house.

Mo is getting a lot more mature.

I asked him the other day which kind of fruit snack he wanted: Dora, sharks, the Chipmunks or ponies. His answer, "It doesn't matter, Mom. They all taste the same."

Suddenly there's no fighting over who gets the monkey plate or the rocket ship plate, the polka dot spoon or the pumpkin spoon. Mo says, "Just give me whatever."

In fact, he even took back one of the "baby" forks I gave him and replaced it with a plain ol' regular fork.

Yesterday he got upset for having to play in the kid area while I was exercising at the Y. He said I was "wasting his time."

And when I let him pick out anything he wanted for lunch the other day, I was expecting a request for fruit loops, cookies and a side of sprinkles. Instead he asked for a soy hot dog, noodles, broccoli, orange slices, chocolate milk and a cupcake he split with Curly.

He keeps telling me he's a big kid now. I guess maybe he's right.

Sunday, February 13, 2011

Love and heartbreak in Boogerland

Grandma sent the Booger Boys a special Valentine's Day package that arrived Friday. As soon as Mo tore through it, he called Grandma to thank her and tell her she is "awesome!"

Today he ate one of the chocolates Grandma sent. I asked him what it tasted like.

The little man melted my sappy heart when he said, "It tasted like 100 kisses from you, Mom."

Not only did Grandma send plenty of candy, she also sent a few little toys. One was a package of play money. And this morning Dad noticed a wad of toy dollars stuffed into Mo's piggy bank.

When Dad explained that it was fake money, Mo got really upset. He thought Grandma sent him a million bucks!

After that, Mo declared, "Now I think Grandma's only a little awesome."

Sunday, February 6, 2011

Today's lesson: GO Pack GO!

I'm a Wisconsin girl, so there's no doubt who we're routing for in the Super Bowl. But, unlike a lot of folks around here, we're not super-duper Packer Backers. I'll admit it: This was only the second football game we've watched all year.

What I've found interesting is that in the last week, with all the Super Bowl excitement, my boys have gotten quite an education about our home team - none of it coming from Mom or Dad.

Curly - the only one of us to own any green-n-gold attire - wore his Packer shirt to day care the other day. He came home cheering, "GO Pack Go!" and telling us he wanted to play football. Every day since then he's wanted to wear his "yellow helmet shirt."

Mo came home from school the other day declaring, "The Packers are the best team ever." And I couldn't help but laugh when his Friday Kindergarten folder included these art projects: a mini football field, a Packer flag and a big, sparkly "G" for Green Bay.

Friday, January 28, 2011

When Mommy's sick

I've been sick the past couple days. Yesterday my temp was 102, and I could barely get off the couch. (Better today, thank goodness.)

I noticed how things change around here when Mama's sick. As I watched the dishes pile up and noted how badly the floors needed sweeping, I found myself saying some unlikely things to my Booger Boys:
  • What's for dinner, Mommy?
"You know where the cereal is. Get some for your brother, too."
  • Can I eat the leftover noodles in the fridge?
"Sure. Go ahead and eat 'em cold. If you can't reach the forks, just use your fingers."
  • I don't have any clean socks.
"Well, find some in the laundry basket that don't stink too bad."
  • Can I watch another show?
"Sure. Watch as much TV as you like."

Tuesday, January 25, 2011

Odd display of brotherly love

Mo and Curly have been fighting nonstop since we walked in the door this afternoon.

They fought over snacks, TV shows and toys. Curly went to time out twice for screaming his head off. Mo was reduced to tears, twice, which isn't like him.

I was cuddling with Curly on the couch, watching Backyardigans, when I noticed a change in Mo. He went in the kitchen and made some microwave popcorn all by himself.

Then, even more surprisingly, he put it in a large bowl and brought it to us in the living room.

He crouched down to his little brother's level and asked him sweetly, "Do you want some popcorn?"

Curly, as surprised as I was by this peace offering, looked at me questioningly.

Again, Mo asked him in a sugary voice, "Do you want some popcorn?"

A huge smile grew on Curly's face. He tried to nod his head, but having difficulty with that particular motor skill, he jumped to his feet and said, "Yes! Yes!"

Without missing a beat, Mo lifted the bowl up high and dumped all the popcorn over Curly's head.

Sunday, January 16, 2011

Sleep vs. monsters

This alarm clock is my nemesis.

I had the bright idea to let Mo pick out his own alarm clock when he started Kindergarten in September. However, the ear-splitting BBBBBBRIINNNNNNGGGGG on this thing make me want to run screaming down the sidewalk.

Knowing this, the kids like to set if off "for fun" at random times during the day.

I've threatened, many a time, to "throw that thing in the garbage if you don't turn it off RIGHT NOW!" And, frankly, I'm not sure why it hasn't landed in the Goodwill pile yet.

Anyway, after one such moment today, Mo asks me, "Mom, what if this alarm clock was set to go off and wake everybody up if ever a monster came into our house?"

Now, speaking as someone who hasn't had a full night of sleep since 2007, my immediate reply was, "That would be really sad if it woke everyone up. Sleep is very important."

Mo looked me in the eye and asked, "Wouldn't it be more important to wake us up so we could chase the monster out of our house before it ate our entire family?"

Friday, January 14, 2011

The dreams of kindergarteners

This afternoon I volunteered in Mo's kindergarten classroom. They were learning about Dr. Martin Luther King. After reading a book and singing a song about him, they worked on posters. The sheets were pre-printed with a line from his famous "I have a dream" speech.

The kids were supposed to add a line about their own dreams for the future. I helped them spell words.

One girl told me that her dream was for her siblings to quit fighting with her. We settled on, "I wish for peace."

But it got more difficult after that.

One little boy kept telling me his dream is to be a "gangsta." I pressed him about why exactly he wanted to be a gangsta. He said, "to make cool music." So I helped him write that he hopes to make nice music for people.

Then I got to Mo.

"What's your dream, Kiddo?"

"I wish for everyone to have magic powers," he said, excited. "And my power will be that I can be invisible!"

Friday, January 7, 2011

Don't mess with an angry 2-year-old

Curly's been experiencing the typical frustrations of a 2-year-old, being small and unable to communicate as effectively as the rest of us - and trying to keep up with his big brother.

Take a recent car conversation:

Mo: Mom, can I have -

Curly: She's not your mom! SHE'S MY MOM!

Mo: She's my mom, too.

Me: Yes, Honey, I'm his mom too.


The rest of us pause for a second, then start laughing. Curly huffs, even more mad.

Mo (laughing): I know I'm not two. I'm five.


Mo: Yes I am five.

Curly (still angry): YES YOU ARE! YOU'RE FIVE, I'M TWO!

I'm actually having fun dealing with the stubborn 2-year-old behaviors the second time around - a little perspective goes a long way. In fact, I actually find Curly pretty cute while he's going through his little tantrums - never thought I'd say that!

Monday, January 3, 2011

The trouble with Santa

I'm starting to wonder if this was our last year with both kids believing in Santa. Mo's already starting to question.

First he didn't like the idea of the fat man in red sneaking around our house while we're sleeping.

Then on Christmas morning, Dad asked him, "Did you get everything you wanted for Christmas."

Mo replied, "Santa's a liar!"


"I gave him directions to get me a sled with a steering wheel. And I told him two different times," he said, utterly disappointed. "Santa's a liar!"

In all honesty, we did look for sleds with steering wheels but didn't think it was a huge deal. Grandma got him a really cool sled - and Santa got him a Razor scooter - we thought that would overshadow the missing steering wheel. But I guess not.

How long do most kids believe in Santa, anyway?

Saturday, January 1, 2011

New Years resolutions for the Booger Boys

Sure, I want to get more sleep, lose 10 pounds and sell my screenplay for a million bucks this year. But if none of that happens, I'd still be a very happy mama if the Booger Boys would stick to these five resolutions:

1. This year let me use the toilet without an audience. (Bonus points if I can take a bath without someone pounding on the door, screaming and/or crying.)

2. Let me find only minimally harmful objects inside my nicer footwear - unlike the yogurt drink discovered in my new boots this morning.

3. Use your clever little brains for good and not evil. Heck, I would probably settle for 3/4 good and 1/4 evil.

4. Only break the cheap stuff, and leave the electronics and furniture in their shabby-but-still-functioning state.

5. Keep the swearing, bodily functions (you know which ones I mean) and embarrassing stories within the walls of our home. Or at least within our inner circle of friends and family.