Wednesday, October 28, 2009
"I prolly need to put my shoes on."
"I prolly need help."
"I prolly need sumting for drinking."
"I prolly need another popsicle."
And when he starts saying things I always wonder where he picks them up. And then 30 minutes later I find myself saying "You probably need to go wash your hands before you wipe that stuff on my furniture." Ah well, better that than some of the other things I say.
His other current catch phrase is a little less endearing. It's "but I waaant to!" He uses it after we tell him no or that we have to wait for one reason or another. As if to say, "Maybe you people didn't understand, maybe you thought I just haphazardly thought of doing this, and what you need to know is that I am emphatic about wanting to do this."
My company held a company picnic this past weekend. And since I'm trying to be more social and meet more people I and 7 other people went with our families. Okay maybe a few more than 7, but not many more.
We bored Landon with eating.
We bored him with a regular moonwalk - "Dis not a castle moonwalk like at my birfday party."
We tortured him with goats - "I want to go at the petting zoooooo!" [We had yet to locate it and so we were like, ok we're looking for it] "But I waaaant toooo." On finding said petting zoo, they handed us a small cup of goat food. And the goats KNEW we had it. So that turned into "THE GOATS ARE GETTING ME!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"
We asked about riding a pony - which he had no interest in after the goat attack.
He played on a playground - which we discussed how we could have done that at the park in our own neighborhood. And probably with a lot fewer people smoking within 2 feet of all the 2 and 3 year olds. Although we probably wouldn't have had the chance to ram the pregnant woman with a horse swing. Hey didn't your mom tell you the #1 rule for being near a swing set is to NOT stand in front of the other people who are swinging?
He played in a sandbox. Where he followed a kid around destroying the things he built as he built them.
He rejected cotton candy. And I questioned whether he was actually my child or not.
He ate a blue snow cone - or half of one anyway.
He started getting tired, we rode the hay ride, he snuggled up on my chest and might have half fell asleep, but he was pretty adamant that he wasn't tired.
He fell asleep on the way home with his pirate mask on. Which he "prolly needs a cover for the patch eye."
Saturday, October 24, 2009
1 year ago:
Aaaand this year:
As you may or may not remember, we couldn't be bothered to look up last year:
And like I said, this year, we follow directions a tad better:
All in all we had a good time.
Thursday, October 22, 2009
So the lady says she's not selling anything, which isn't actually true because if you consider the fact that when you call people to try to get them to vote for one candidate over another you are kind of trying to sell your candidate, but if you use the definition where I get something physical and have to send them some money for it, then no, she wasn't selling anything. She just had this survey.
And because I'm a sucker, and because I've had jobs where I have to talk to people on the phone and because I know this lady probably gets $10 extra for a completed survey and I know someone who has actually held a similar job and she hated it because people hung up on her. I told her I'd do it. Which I regretted later, but whatever.
So she asks me if I will be voting in the Republican primary in March. And I think "Wait, I haven't even figured out which proposals and stuff I'm supposed to be voting for in November and you want me to think about March?" I'm all "Yeah, I don't know, because I don't know who all the candidates are yet, so I don't know who I'm supporting, but maybe." She asked me a bunch of questions about how voteriffic I am (I'm totally voteriffic, by the way.)
She then says "I'm going to read you a series of terrible things about Kay Bailey Hutchison and you tell me if it will make you less likely to vote for her. Other people are hearing similar questions about Rick Perry." [I may not be remembering exactly how she put it.] And then the questions began. And then she used the phrase "pro-abortion groups." And I should have clicked at that point that this was clearly a Rick Perry ad very thinly veiled as a survey.
And if it didn't click then, it should have clicked when she gave me the next line of questioning. "I'm going to read you a series of wonderful things about Rick Perry and you tell me if it would make you more likely to vote for him. Other people are hearing similar questions about Kay Bailey Hutchison."
I should have hung up. I should have at least asked her to take me off the list when we were done. I'm pretty sure there were none of those other mythical people who got to hear the good things about Kay Bailey Hutchison, or the bad things about Rick Perry.
I guess asking the government to add themselves and their marketing campaigns to the do not call list is kind of futile, isn't it?
Friday, October 16, 2009
* But not the pineapple kind.
* Landon has started saying "Talking is too hard." He says it when he is thinking faster than he can speak and his words are just not coming out. I keep telling him to just slow down and think of what he wants to say and then start talking, but he's not that keen on waiting.
* When I get on the Intranet at work, this chick shows up. Does she seem kind of creepy to you? Or is it just me? Or is it because she comes beside words that basically say "Big Brother is Watching You."
* Some genius at work, who shall remain nameless, mostly because I don't know who it is, who probably sits in an office with a door, decided that the cubicle farm was too tall and the facade of privacy is apparently too much for us lowly cubicle workers, so in a few weeks I'll be in a short cubicle where everyone can see my every move. I hope my cube neighbors like to see me pick food off my boobs after lunch and then pick my teeth.
* Landon has begun talking about his next birthday party. And the monkey cake it will require. And how he will eat it and it will be yummy. He actually began talking about the monkey cake a few weeks prior to the train party, but I squashed his little hopes and dreams like a bug, because I had already bought the train mold. And I am evil like that.
* In a couple weeks I'm starting a cake decorating class, that my in-laws have given me for my birthday, I think it'll be fun. I'm guessing after taking that class, she's going to want more help on the monkey cake than I was able to give her on the train cake. You know, like more than sitting there watching her do all the work.
* The good news is that I finally figured out how to throw an awesome minimal preparation party (Hello, Moonbounce Guy? Yes, deliver here please.), which means I can work on the monkey cake for hours! Also, balloon lady is so not necessary and also too expensive.
Thursday, October 15, 2009
They have you call the night before and maybe you'll be let off the hook, and I was not. I headed in, and luckily I live in a less than urban county, so I didn't have to pay to park or anything. I took my book and read A LOT. I listened as they called 30 to 45 people at a time and directed them towards a court room.
I was in the last group. I seriously thought I had a chance of going home - or back to work, but probably home.
I was the second person in that group. And the the DA guy starts his schpeel. They start with person 1, and determine whether they like person 1 or not and then move to person 2, and so on until they have 12 people that both sides agree on.
The case was about a felon with a gun. Felons can't have guns, so his mere possession of it was the crime, not that he did anything with it. So the questions ranged from "Do you live in this guy's neighborhood?" to "Can you think of a scenario where you would give the guy the minimum 2 years, and can you also think of a scenario where you'd give the guy the full 10?" Person 1 was either REALLY good at faking stupidity, was really stupid, or there was a language barrier big enough that the DA, finally frustrated by rephrasing the question 3 times, and her giving conflicting answers, he just gave up and wiped her off the list.
Everyone told me to just be super opinionated and I wouldn't get picked. But they didn't ask me any really opiniony questions. I mean I guess I could have been all "10 years!!! No tolerance!!! Maximum sentence!!!" But I can't be like that because I am rational and I don't lie well. So yeah, I got picked.
After 2 days of testimony in the guilt/innocence phase in which the poor defendant's lawyer threw him under the bus. "Yeah, he had the gun." We came back with a guilty verdict pretty quickly.
1 day of testimony in the sentencing phase, in which the defendant's lawyer again proved her incompetency. She spent quite a bit of time establishing to us that the guy's Mom knew him. And we were left to determine his fate, but not until the next morning. The next morning we gathered in the room and were told to wait. As it turns out he took a deal for 5 years. Which is kind of sad because if he'd stuck with us, we were buying his story of the events (took gun from unstable friend, separated the clip from the gun [corroborated by police], had lost a friend in a gun fight a year before, etc) and we were leaning towards giving him just 2.
After the trial the lawyers came by the jury room to talk about any questions we might have had or the process in general, and the lawyer for the defendant asked if there was anything she could have done to improve, and we all kind of looked at each other. The jury foreman finally told her that maybe she shouldn't admit her client is guilty in the guilt/innocence phase.
That was county, I had also received a summons for the following week for the city. Which I thankfully was NOT needed for - although they still made me show up at 8 and then come back at 9 to tell me that.
On Tuesday I will report again for the county. At least this time, my company supports the system and believes in it, and will pay my my normal salary for the days I am on Jury Duty. I just hope I don't get picked again. It was pretty sad to know that guy essentially gave up 3 years of his life on a bluff.
Wednesday, October 14, 2009
They give him homework. Because 3 year olds get a "sense of responsibility" when they turn their homework in each week. Um...no. They're 3. They are not the ones who remember about doing homework nor are they the ones who have to remember to bring it in on time. If that were true, Landon would also remember to bring his sheet and pillowcase every Monday, but he has spent several Mondays with a naked pillow and no top sheet for his nap. So no. I do not buy this responsibility of 3 year olds and homework business. It's just something else I have to do (not the homework - because I will not be doing him homework, not now, not ever, but sitting with him, reading him the MULTIPLE STEP instructions and making sure he doesn't get distracted by something shiny.) Can we just stop pretending this is an ivy league prep school?
Plus - the TIME. People, I work for a living - that's why he's there, I drop him off at 6:30 am, I don't pick him up again until 6:00 pm. We barely have time to eat, shower, brush our teeth, and spend a little quality time with each other, and now at least once a week, I have to spend my quality time doing what the people at his school could have done with him and he'd have learned it just as well. It kind of makes me want to teach him my personal time management technique which was always "do your homework at school if at all possible." Seriously, if I can finish my math homework during lunch or study hall (preferably not in the 5 minutes before said class began - or you know - maybe I'm wearing my historical revisionist hat (it has feathers!)) Then I did. And then when I got home I could ride my bike or whatever I was into back then - math is probably not a good example, as I always had teacher who spent about half the class lecturing and gave the rest of the class to start on homework - but the point is that I tried to finish it there so as not to taint my free time. Unfortunately they put his homework in a folder out of his reach, so I doubt that when everyone is play he could just be all "Hey - I'm gonna do my homework now," and go get it oh and never mind that he can't even read the directions yet.
They're not hard assignments, and it's not really a big deal to me, or him, I mean he loves learning. BUT the first assignment involved picking certain letters out of a group, tracing them, coloring, and cutting and pasting. I'm just glad I felt compelled to buy the safety scissors I bought him a few weeks ago - or we wouldn't have even been able to complete the assignment. The one he has to turn in tomorrow involves glitter. GLITTER. specifically white glitter. Which I read and said "well, they can bite me, it will be whatever color glitter I happen to already own." And I may have said it in front of Landon, and part of me hopes he repeats it, which means he won't, so I'm good.
GLITTER, people. If I wasn't a hoarder of all things crafty and a Girl Scout Leader, I might not even own glitter, which would mean I would have to go out and BUY glitter for this assignment, an assignment I'm not sure I believe in, in the first place, and now that I think about it, I'm afraid I took all my glitter to my parents' house so my mom could make ornaments with Landon and Zoey last year and yeah - I'm pretty sure I was obstinate and said I was not willing to take said glitter back to my house, that she must be the keeper of the glitter...so now that I'm thinking about it more, I'm going to have to go buy glitter for this stupid assignment. GAH.
And it's less about having to buy the dang glitter and more about the mess. Because you see, we'll have to use more than necessary, and then it will get on the floor and then there will be vacuuming and wiping and I'll be finding glitter in my kitchen for the next 17 years.
I guess at least the dog's poop will be fun and shimmery in a day or so. So that's something to look forward to.
Friday, October 09, 2009
When he has bubbles in his bath, he has a beard and a mustache, when he drinks something thick, he has a mustache and makes his own beard with a hand. And whn he has nothing, he will simply make both the beard AND the mustache with his hands.
“I got a beard and a mustache!” He’ll yell, until you acknowledge, that he does indeed have a beard and a mustache. So when his grandparents showed up with the fake mustaches, I thought he’d for sure wear them around the entire evening…but because I thought that, we got a good 5 minutes before they came off.
At least we got some pictures.
Thursday, October 08, 2009
Thanks to my mother-in-law it turned out awesome, way more awesome than I could have imagined.
Tuesday, October 06, 2009
Over the weekend you turned 3. This month I believe you began the "I do it myself" phase in earnest. You wash your hands by yourself, you go potty by yourself, you're pretty much independent. It's kind of awesome. And sometime a hindrance, but mostly it's awesome.
You've begun saying things that are quite hilarious. Your view of the world is very refreshing, and you've begun to notice thing outside of your normal 5 foot radius. We're going to have to begin to work on your social filter, because some of the things you say are kind of rude and inappropriate.
You are not the same boy you were a year ago. A year ago when we put you in school, you wouldn't even talk to a stranger, you wouldn't go onto a playground if another child was there, you often froze if someone dared to speak to you. Now when we go to Chick Fil A, you are terribly disappointed if there are no other children there to play with you - you strike up conversations with complete strangers whether they want to or not, and any big boy you see, you feel the need to show them something - anything. At this age you remind me a lot of your cousin Joshua - and I think that's a good thing.
This year we decided to have your birthday party at the park and invite your friends from school. I don't think it really registered with you that your friends were actually going to come to "your" park. We had an awesome time. And it was really nice to get to mingle with some of the parents of your friends. You told your Great Aunt Brenda that you never wanted the moonwalk to go away. I think that's a pretty good sign that we did ok. I also think we're now on the hook for having a moonwalk at your party every year - I just hope the next time we go to the park we aren't expected to have it there.
Anyway I think your friends had a good time too, when I dropped you off at school this morning one of your friends told me he came to your party. I asked if he had fun and he was still excited about it.
Happy third birthday.