Thankyou

Memorial Day


I would like to thank everyone who has served in the military and fought for our freedom.
 THANKYOU:
    Ross and Marjorie Woods served during WWII.  Not only did my Granfather serve, he was the only survivor when his plane crashed during the war.
    Gary Woods served in Vietnam.
    Dave Shell served in Vietnam and was awarded 2 purple hearts.  He proved the doctors wrong.
    Ron Woods, Max Woods, Kurt and Roberta Woods, Scott and Brenda Woods,  Natasha Woods, Robert Anderson, David Barnhart, John Garner, David Partaka, Jonathan Woods, and David Neale.

smell

me to david:  you smell like a cupcake  (he had just eaten a cupcake)
david to me:  you smell like juice
me:  juice, huh?
david: yeah.  you smell like Noah.  you smell like Elmo poop.  (giggle, giggle)

it all comes back to poop with this child.

more kid-isms

gave noah a spoonful of oatmeal.  Promptly pronounces, "poop."
happily ate the "poop" anyway.

getting kids ready for nap.
David states, "it smells hot in here."
me:  "you cant smell 'hot.'  you feel 'hot.'
david:  "smells hot in here"
me: "ok, hon"

shattered

   tall glass drying on the counter.  dog needs to investigate.  i am in the bathroom about to dry my hair and i hear that glass shatter like it's a full set.  run to the kitchen, dog running away with his tail between his legs.  david, sitting at the opposite counter eating his lunch, pipes up, "sam did it!"  i know.  then noah, "sim di it!"  gotcha.  noah, "wha he doooo?"  me, "he broke the glass."

   so needless to say, dog is terrified for his life--with good reason--and is promptly locked in his crate to spend however much time it takes for me to get un-mad in the dark.

   my kitchen floor is covered in glass of all shapes and sizes; from the piece that served as the bottom 1/4 of the glass, to a glistening powder settled in the grout.  i go about picking up the bigger pieces, while coating the bottom of my feet in said powder.

   two full sweeps of the entire floor and a run of the vacuum to take care of the cracks and crevices, the floor is glass-free (well, hopefully, but i'm sure there is still some), and the dog is parked in his crate in the corner of my bedroom....  for the rest of eternity.....

complaining

tired of rain
tired of the dog not listening
tired of no one picking up after themselves
tired of hearing stories about HORRIBLE parents
tired of the world going to "hell in a hand basket"


but, like i said--i'm just complaining
ignore me, please.

kid-isms

me:  I'm starving!
david:  Maybe you need a quesadilla

hahahhahaa!  this kid knows me too well.


Background...   we have 2 walls in our living room made of barn wood--complete w/ deep graining, knots, holes, and gaps
david:  can i stick my fingers in the holes?
me: sure
david:  i like sticking my fingers in holes

oh geez



david:  mom!  can we have Lucky Charms for a snack?
noah:  ya, Yucky Charms!

haha! yucky charms!

play-place = torture chamber

     My kids love the McDonald's play-place.  Most kids do.  However, Noah is terrified of the tubes.  yes, the essence of the play-place.  He pretends that he wants to go in them.  He runs up the little stairs, sits inside the opening of the first tube, chills for a minute, then runs over to the other set of stairs and does the same thing.
     This time, after being there for about 20 min and doing the run, stairs, sit, chill routine a number of times, he worked up the nerve to venture inside the tubes.....   about 15 feet in and around the corner--the crying begins. i can fix this.  i don't need to crawl in there.  "David, go back and help your brother.  Show him the way out."  "OK!"  little david ventures back to help his little brother.  "Go with David, Noah."  David tries to coax Noah farther into the tubes to get to the slide.  "Honey, go with David.  He's gonna show you the way out."  The crying gets louder.  More coaxing.  Louder crying.  Coax, coax.  Cry, wail.  
     F***!  I'm going in.  "Hold on, buddy!  I'm coming!"  sigh. groan.
     Kick off my flip-flops, (oh, yes.  I get to crawl through barefoot.  Lord,  please place a force-field around my feet to protect them from athlete's foot and ringworm.) and dive into blue, slightly smelly tubes.  Crawling hands and knees, I make it to my terrified little cryer.  I scoot him forward toward the slide exit---he screams!!  little farther--scream!!  we're in a tube, I can't pick him up and carry him.  With every little push and nudge his screams get louder and more frantic, and he begins to shake.  It was horrible.  he was so scared.  Finally we get to the slide where the tube is a little wider, and I am able to sit down and put Noah on my lap.  still terrified, but slightly better.
   We made it out of the torture chamber, and he clung to me.  Would not let go or get down.  So, I sat with him, and told David to go through the tunnels a couple more times.  We were leaving soon.  

grrrrrr

    This is my shoe.  You may notice that there is something a bit 'off' about it.  Yes, that would be a big gaping hole CHEWED in the back of my shoe.  That stupid (looks full grown, but isn't) dog/puppy/beast of ours DESTROYED my shoe.  and the kicker is that he did this four feet away from me!  

   he was happily chewing on his toy.  i look away.  look back minute later, still chewing said toy.  Good boy, Sam.  Good boy.  Look away.  look back.  chewing toy.  Good Boy.  look away.  look baaaack---  "Bad Dog!"  at some point, with no perceptible movement, he managed to snatch my shoe and press it right up against his toy.  Making it appear that he was still chewing on his toy.  Nope!  Chewing on MY SHOE!

  "BAD DOG!"   

Told dave.  He sympathized, but mostly was happy because he hated these shoes.  I think he worked a deal out with the dog. 

3rd child

dog and i have had the better part of a week to 'bond' without my husband.  he has actually been very good.  he now believes that i gave birth to him however.  he follows me to any and every room in my house.

sits on the couch next to me
supervises laundry
lays on rug in front of the shower
nudges open bedroom door with nose while i am getting dressed
brings toys and/or blankets to play/lay with while i am using the computer
sleeps on corner of my bed

i am dog mommy now.  he will not be having any birthday parties, but he'll get a bone or two.

apples

background:  dog ate/shredded half a roll of toilet paper today.  i took a picture and posted it on Facebook.

via text message:

me:  hey  how concerned should i be that the dog just ate an apple core?  like poisonous to the dog or just kinda sickish like any other food?

R:  an apple shouldnt hurt him. just give him more toilet paper.


almost peed my pants.  

terrible two's

    noah is almost completely over his cold which he has had for about a week.  warning to all moms:  the cold bug also activates the terrible two's gene.
    he has been the whiniest, most entitled little brat!  EVERYTHING is said with a whine.  and if any statement or demand is not immediately acknowledged and carried out, he will scream and cry.  which makes me want to scream and cry.   in the beginning of the illness it was perfectly understandable because he was miserable and felt like crap.  Now...  he is fine!  a bit of a runny nose occasionally, but fine!  and he is still acting like this!
     he had to spend a lot of time in the corner this morning because he would not stop requesting mustard on his eggs!  i told him "no," he would immediately ask again.  so, to the corner he went.  "ok, you can come eat now"  "mustard..."  (sniffle sniffle).   "get back in that corner!"
     This happened 2 or 3 times!  stubborn stubborn stubborn!
      please pray for me.

business trip

husband gone on business trip.
evening 1(so far):
all of my cooking skills are no longer needed.  tonight's dinner:  pillsbury crescent roll dough made into tiny pizzas.  noah sitting on my lap pretending to wipe boogers on me,  on my face no less, and "blows" his nose on my shirt.  what a sweetie.  he then proceeds to try to stick his hand in my shirt and asks "what's that?"  lovely.  keep your hands to yourself.  tell ya when you're older.