Little Green Ass Whooping

When I resigned from my job as a Publishing Representative last year (to stay at home with my son), not only did I give up my income, but I also gave up my company car.  Smooth move, right?

I was like, "Well, on the bright side, now I get to pick whatever car I want."  My husband was like, "Yeah, you can take the bus."  Guess who won that fight?

A couple of weeks later, there I was with my brand new, and I mean 2010 brand new, Subaru Forester.  Score!!!  Love it.  Love the color, the smell, the moon roof, on and on and on.  Obviously my intention was to keep it spiffy and yummy smelling for ever and ever.  In all my lust, I forgot I had a toddler that was going to be riding around with me all day.  Dammit.

So here we are a year later and my car is now a roving chicken nugget stand.  My husband is all, "Well, don't let Maddox eat in the car." Yeah, and I also was never going to let him suck on a pacifier and we all know how that turned out.  Whatever.  Obviously the kid is going to eat in the car.  Mainly because it keeps him occupied and I don't have to hear, "Out, out, OUUUUUT!" the whole time we're riding somewhere.

So it turns out that right after I resigned from my job and lost my car, my husband's company sold out and he lost his company car, too.  He kept his job with the new company, but now he got a car allowance so he, too, got to go pick out a new car.  He came back with a 2010 Subaru Outback.  Subarus are so reliable, we thought, hey, one of these bad boys will last until Maddox gets his license and then we'll just pass it on to him.  With like 300,000 miles on it, but he'll get over that.

Much to my surprise, Davey practices what he preaches.  NO ONE was eating in his car.  He didn't give a shit if we had a 6 hour road trip ahead of us.  Don't even think about packing some snacks.  No, we're all going to drag our asses out of the car and stand outside of a gas station to eat our bag of chips and drink our coke.  Punk.

A few weeks ago Maddox and I were out running around and we took Davey's car just because it was already pulled out of the garage.  Of course, I'm passing M&M's back to Maddox on our little journey and all is good because I kept looking in the rearview mirror to make sure the M&M's were going in his mouth. Sometimes he likes to just hold them.  By the way, those little motherf'ers DO melt in your hands.

I thought we were all clear and Davey would never know the kind of mischief that we were up to.  We got home, Madd napped, and then we got back in D's car to go out to dinner.  Davey puts Maddox in the car and then comes around to get in the driver's seat.  He turns to me and holds up a green M&M that he found in the carseat.  He looks at me very seriously and asks:

"Do you know what this is"?

Me:  Ummm, a green M&M?

Davey:  No, this, right here, is a little green ass whooping.

Potty Mouth

Sooooo, if you've ready any of my posts you know that we are "trying" to start potty training our 2-year old, Maddox.  He gets it that mommy and daddy use the potty, but it hasn't quite translated yet that he should use it, too.  I'm not even really sure Madd knows that the potty is exclusively for human waste.
Not to worry though, my husband has that explanation covered.

Me:  Maddox, please don't put your trucks in the potty.  The potty is for poo poo and pee pee only.

Davey:  Logs and streams, buddy.  Logs and streams.

I thank God every day that my husband is so wise.

Now that we have that covered, Davey and I still need to convince Maddox to actually use the potty.  We're really going to have to convince him that using the potty is to his benefit.  And no, he doesn't give a damn to walk around with poop and pee in his diaper, so that argument isn't going to work.  I mean of course we'll reward him like crazy when he actually does start to use the potty.  Hell, I'll throw him a party, but I mean, eventually we'll have to stop doing that.  We can't empty our retirement fund just so we can say he's potty trained.

I decide that maybe I'll leave this part to daddy.  Davey can talk to him about how cool it is to be a big boy and all the wonderfulness that comes with going to the potty.  And you know, Davey can actually show him how it works.  I lack appropriate equipment.

The other day, I go downstairs to take a shower.  I leave Madd and Davey upstairs playing.  When I come back Davey says Maddox has something to tell me.  'Tis as follows:

Davey:  Maddox, tell mommy where you're going to start pooping.

Maddox:  Potty!

Davey:  And tell mommy why you're going to start pooping in the potty.

Maddox:  (Silence)

Davey:  Because we're sick of you smelling like the zoo.


There's your reason folks.  From my family, to yours.

Blankie, Ninnie, and Little Red Car

Before Maddox was born, Davey and I were adamant that he not sleep with us.  We heard stories about kids who slept with their parents until they were 10 years old.  No thanks.  We had no intention of being one of those couples who sleep in separate bedrooms.  I mean, I'm in my 20s for goodness sake.  I'd still like to be able to have sex with my husband.  In our bed.  I get it that some couples might like the thrill of having to "sneak"  to do it.  But, I'd rather not be caught  in the closet "wrestling naked" by my young son, thanks.

Well, the day we brought him home from the hospital, not only did he sleep in our bed, but he slept on my chest.  Probably not the best idea since I was taking some serious pain meds because I'd had a C-section.  After about a week of that, I'd had enough.  Oh, but didn't I love having the little guy lie on my chest while he and I breathed in unison and we could feel each other's heartbeat?  Yeah, during the day, but at night, I just wanted to sleep for the love of God!  The kid only slept for like 2 hours at a time and during those 2 hours, I didn't particularly want to lie there stiff as a board with no pillows around me for fear that he might accidentally roll off my chest and suffocate.  

So, we moved him to his crib.  Yes, it was hard to have to get up every single time he cried, needed changed, or wanted to eat, but we knew we were doing what was best for the whole family.  I'm not opposed to co-sleeping, it just wasn't for us.

Fast forward 2 years.  We now have a happy, healthy, talkative preschooler that goes to sleep at 7:30pm in his crib and stays there all night. (Minus the period when he was 6 - 9 months old). We read him a couple of books, put him in bed, and he says, "Night night, love you."  How awesome is that?  Very, except for the fact that in order to actually go to sleep he has to have the Holy Trinity with him:  Blankie, Ninnie, and Little Red Car.  

Blankie and Ninnie (pacifier) are no big deal.  The blankie is big and blue and he's had it since he was a newborn.  Ninnies, please, we have like 350 of those lying around the house.  We will never be without a ninnie. Believe that.  However, Little Red Car is going to cause me to have a stroke.

Little Red Car is exactly what it sounds like.  This little ass red car that we bought for him at Toys R Us about a year ago. Seriously, he has hundreds of cars, but for some reason (probably because it's the smallest one EVER) he loves that LRC.  He absolutely has to have it in his hand in order to fall asleep. He also likes to carry it around during the day.  I cannot even tell you how many nights we have put him to bed and the minute we walk out the door we hear, "Diddle Ded Har."  Shit.  

My husband and I go flying around the house as the cries for "Diddle Ded Har" get louder and more hysterical.  Eventually my husband and I get hysterical, too.  "Where the f*ck is the car?!?!?" One of us will shout to the other.  We've always managed to find it and then we immediately go on the porch to have a beer to calm our nerves.

I'm sure you're asking why the hell I don't just go buy 10 more Little Red Cars.  Well, because we can't find another one exactly like it. I've tried to give him other cars but he is having none of that.  

So, a couple of lessons we've learned:

1.  The hardship that is getting your child to go to sleep in his or her own bed, in his or her own room, is completely worth it.  However, I would avoid moving into a house where your bedroom is on the first floor and all other bedrooms are on the second floor.  Especially when your child is only 6 weeks old.  Like we idiots did.

2.  When you're baby gets sick, it's OK to have him sleep with you as long as you are prepared for him to stay there.  For months.  Please refer to the 6-9 months reference above.

3.  Never let your child take anything to bed with him that you don't want to him to HAVE to have in order to fall asleep.  Otherwise you'll find yourself running around the house looking for a 2 inch piece of red plastic with wheels on it as if it's the only thing that will save your soul from the devil himself.