Things I say more all the time

“Sit on your bottom”

“Please do not lick your brother”

“Put on your clothes or your Ferrari is going into time out”

“No hugging people you don’t know, even if they are kids”

“Stop trying to sit in the baby bouncer”

“Eat your hot dog or no more fruit”

“Get your hand out of my shirt”

“If you don’t have to go potty, why are you grabbing your penis?”

 

 

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Death and Replacement

One of our beloved family cats died at home after a brief illness last week, so we have been talking about how she’s in “kitty heaven,”  and we’ll get a new kitty in a few months after her sister kitty isn’t so sad anymore (the vet warned that our quite elderly other cat could be stressed into death by the premature addition of a kitten).  Carboy, after initially telling me he was going to save the dearly departed from kitty heaven, has now rather enthusiastically embraced the idea of a replacement.  At first it was just limited to cats: he requested a “rainbow kitty,” then a red cat, then twin yellow kitties.  More recently he has begun to expand this idea, demanding that when our Versa goes to “car heaven” that we get a “Nissan Altima with ten seats” as a replacement.  Given his car obsession, it seemed like a natural progression in his mind.  Tonight however, he took it in an alarming new direction.  During his nightly bath, Carboy informed me that when I go to “girl heaven,” he was getting a new girl named Christina.

Really not sure how to take that.

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Welcome to the Land of Milk and Hotwheels

I have two boys, a preschooler (Carboy) and a baby (Milkboy).  I never envisioned myself as the Queen of Boydom.  In fact, two ultrasounds said that my second baby was a girl, so Milkboy was quite the surprise as the OB pulled him up.

Carboy is so nicknamed because of his undying love of all things Hot Wheels.  I discovered the British show “Top Gear” when he was 18 months old, and still enamored of Thomas and train-dom, so I had no idea how much it would come to be the theme of my life.  The car obsession started about age two and a half, and has shown no signs of abating after two years.  We have the standard miniature cars, remote control cars, model cars, “Cars” movie accessories, and anything else remotely-car related that the good folks at Target can sell me.

Milkboy gets his name because he is powered by mama’s milk.  We have a great nursing relationship, and I am so grateful to be able to provide this for him as long as he needs it.  Nursing the second time around is so different, easier in many ways but with whole new challenges.  Like  I realized last month that the reason he hadn’t been gaining weight was because every nursing session was interrupted by his brother driving cars on top of us.  So we have introduced the “bubble” when Milkboy and I are doing our “munchies,” a sort of no-fly zone for hot wheels and big brothers.  We’ll see how that works.

Folks keep telling me to write down my stories of life as an unplanned stay-at-home mom, so that’s  my goal here.  The charming, absurd, and incredibly amazing life of the Queen of the Land of Milk and Hotwheels.

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