Tag Archives: Awesome!

Big girl panties

Tonight I was the biggest big girl of all the big girls.

I took my son to the pool by myself…High five for Mummy!

M’s been working these last 2 nights and this was something we would usually do as a family. Last night I chickened out. But last night I did make V wear training pants to bed (which happily resulted in a break of the wet-bed syndrome from the last few nights). So while I chickened out on the pool front, I totally had a parenting win on the training pants front.

Tonight I pulled up those big girl panties, sucked it up and put on my bikini and hit up the YMCA with V. Alone. ALONE. Did I mention the alone part?

So alone.

And so into the pool we went, accompanied by an ear-piercing scream. I literally had 2 more holes in my ear-lobe post-entrance.

And then? Things were all fine. We kicked and paddled around for a few minutes and then headed over to the wading pool. It comes up to the middle of V’s chest and has a huge waterfall umbrella thing that you can duck under right in the middle of the pool. It’s maybe 10 feet or so in diameter and the water is a wee bit ripply. V is both fascinated and appalled by it.

Today he started off fascinated. We waded all around and then I went under the fountain and stood in it’s ‘shade’.  And then V walked in all by himself. This in itself was a huge high-five. And then he went out and did another lap of the wading pool. And with each successive lap he got lower and lower in the water. Until he was frog marching around and shouting “Mummy too Mummy too!!!!!”.

I did not join in the frog marching in 18 inches of water.

Several times during this ‘marching’ he sort of tried to swim.

I know!! He’s freakin’ fearless!I guess it’s fair to say that he continued fearless and was not appalled at all.

And during those times? Yes Fran, I was right behind him. And I only made eye contact with the Life Guard a million and one times. Apparently we were the hot spot attraction of the pool this evening.

We just finished 2 weeks of lessons at the Y. And I feel like he needs to go back immediately and get right into those lessons where they force your child to learn how to float and kick and paddle. Because literally he pushed us both away when we are swimming with him.

I believe that he really thinks he can just kick lightly and propel himself all over the pool. It’s frightening to watch. And I should know as I have watched it numerous times.

This little independent 2 year old is serious. Serious about doing everything by himself.

It’s enough to give one a heart attack every freakin’ day of the week.

See what I mean about those big girl panties? Mine were totally pulled up to my waist… and my stubborn lip was stuck out and maybe quivering a little bit.

I watched him voluntarily put his face under water and try to ‘swim’ so many times that what started off as “Good job Sweet pea!” ended up as “Oh. You’re doing that again?”.

Great. Just great, I thought calmly while V ‘swam’ again for the billionth time.

M and I are so having a chat tomorrow about more swimming lessons…

Before Little Man drives himself to the pool and takes a dip.

Sanity please!

xoxo a.m.

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Well, this is embarressing…

We all know you would rather read about the vomit, poop and general embarrassment then, say, me. I like to sneak in a ‘high-five Jaime’ post every once in a while, and it always makes me laugh because no-one reads it. But write about poop or vomit?? Hits a-million. Ha!! I know, I know… just put up with me. Sometimes I need a little self-indulgence…

Anyways, switching to bodily fluids and such…

V has developed several new skillz (with a ‘z’ ’cause they’re totally mad skillz). One of which I have only heard about but have not yet witnessed. And it scares me a little.

Sometime during the middle of last week, I came home, went upstairs and discovered that V’s bedroom door had a child-proof knob-thingy on the inside of his room. I asked M about this new addition and he turned to me with a total dead-pan face and said:

“Yes. He opened his door. It is all over. FOR EVER.”

I had thought it was over when he climbed out of his crib. And previously when he started walking. And then just before that when he started crawling. You see where I am going with this? This is the latest incarnation of “It’s over FOR EVER.”

So there’s that. And then there’s there this other thing that surprised me yesterday while V was cruising in his diaper around the living room.

I went upstairs for a minute and when I returned, V’s diaper was just hanging off of him. It usually sags in the butt a little anyways, but this time it was proper hanging off. As in one side of it had been undone. And his hand was making a move down the front of his diaper.

“Don’t touch!!” I shouted. And he listened. This is the only good thing that he’s learned from day-care. Not to touch ‘things’ and ‘bits’ or the ‘area’ while you are getting your diaper changed. And this has evolved into a whole ‘don’t touch’ approach for anything in the zone.

That hand shot out of that saggy diaper so damn fast.

“Mummy help”, he said. And so off we went upstairs to sort out this out.

And then it happened again later. And my imagination went crazy. Things rubbed on walls. Things like urine-soaked diapers and poo.. Stuff jammed in toilets. And things unexpectedly where it they shouldn’t be (ie: diaper on my pillow etc). I should accentuate that none of these things have happened. YET.

Ok, so he can (apparently) open doors and remove his own diaper.

And then this morning? Oh just you wait for this one…

This morning, on Father’s day of all days, he came over to me as I was standing in front of the dishwasher cutting up papaya and PUSHED me and shouted “Move!!!!”.

What? Since when do you push your mother that gave (painful) birth to you and cleans up your poop every day and tell her to move.

Well, I guess since you hit the two-year old mark.

I wish you could have seen my face. And heard me say “EXCUSE ME?!”

And then heard V say “Peeeeeeez.” Oh, well saying please right after a big ol’ push makes everything all better.

Didn’t you know that?

Well, now you do…  xoxo a.m.

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Powerful

I never thought of myself as powerful.

But if you would like to describe me as such, I don’t mind..

I got up early to go running the other day. On my way to my path, I disturbed a family of deer. They leaped and pranced and dashed past me so fast. I thought about them while I headed to where I was going. I imagined hooves on my feet. I ran. I went faster.

It was delicious.

And then after my run, I checked my email.

And I received an email that was amazing.

My second cousin believes that I am so powerful that he wrote about me in his blog. A blog about running.

Since I am not a professional runner, by any means. And in fact, haven’t ran a race since way before I was pregnant, I was taken-aback. Ha!! I run. I love running. But, well, I work full-time and have a two year old and my husband works 2 jobs and it is really hard to carve out a little time to make that work. Oh, and I live in Florida. and it is super freakin’ hot in the evenings. And mornings. And all the time. Except February (I ran a lot in February).

It is hard to make it work.

It’s taken a lot of work from M and I to figure out what works. And as I am blessed to be married to a teacher with the summers off, it is making my summer brilliant. Running every morning if I get up 30 minutes earlier.

As I imagine it is hard for any full-time working mother to make it work as well. It is a tough act to balance. Work. Children. Health. Wellness. Sanity. Love. Etc.

Hey you know what?

I am freakin’ powerful! Thanks Clark. I appreciate it.

To check out how powerful I and other amazing women are, click HERE

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Mermaids

V, Shell and boogs

Oh gosh, how I love surprises. And M knows that painfully obvious secret about me. And so? We took a road trip, with a secret destination…

We hit up the Tampa Aquarium. Something that I had been interested in going to since V discovered fish. I thought he’d get a kick out of it. Especially since all fish are ‘Nemo’.

Let me just say, it was a total disappointment. Total tourist central, which I guess isn’t surprising since it is located right next to the Cruise Ship terminal. So that was one huge point against. And then? Well, then it was just plain ol’ bad.

Bad taste, bad exhibits, sad gators and well, just bad. BAD.

It was like a sad zoo for fish. Which I guess is exactly what an aquarium is. God. Awful. And then they tacked a ‘water park’ on the end of it. Ugh.

And then the whole purpose of our trip because clear. The Weeki Watchee Mermaids were there for the weekend.

Say whaaa?!

Oh thats right!! You heard me! My Florida dream come true. For years I have wanted to see them perform, and now I didn’t have to pay a ridiculous amount of money and drive all over Florida to see them.

Hurray!!

And then Boo!! It was a special showing for 15 minutes only and the exhibit was overly full. Crap. V didn’t care, there were things to crawl over and in and stuff to point and touch. He didn’t care about no stinking mermaids.

We wandered and laughed all over the exhibit. It was just so darn bad. And then just before we were about to leave, I found one last corner unexplored. And guess what? In that unexplored area was the tank where the mermaids were performing.

Thank you Gods!!! Thank you!! One more thing off the list of tacky stuff to do in Florida.

And they were so gorgeously tacky, kind of slutty and all sorts of bad. Mummy Like.

But ladies, I love you. Thank you for making my afternoon. V liked ‘Nemo’. M liked the part of the exhibit that had fake smoke.

Those mermaids saved it. For me anyways. Not sure about anyone else.

Although judging from the person behind me while V and I were looking at turtles. “I’m gonna get a picture of this damn turtle if it’s the last thing I do. We spent $80 damn dollars on admission and if I want damn picture of a turtle, I’ll get one! And then we’ll leave!”

I don’t think the mermaids saved it for her…

xoxo a.m.

p.s.: they totally did it for me… 😉

Surprise!

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Cocoa Beach

I was up nice and early with the V-Diddy Sunday morning. And to my surprise, so was Daddy! Usually I let him sleep as he works his second job over Friday and Saturday nights and I want him to get some actual rest on the weekends.

For some reason he was up. I was soon to find out why…. Apparently he had planned that we were hitting up the beach, which was the best plan ever. Haven’t been to the beach in forever and a day.

We live about 45 minutes or so from the East Coast of Florida, which puts us (I guess) in the neighbourhood of Cocoa Beach. We prefer to go elsewhere though. Cocoa is just to dang crowded. And touristy. Last year we found this amazing beach about 4 or 5 miles south of Cocoa, adjacent to the Army base there. Pretty empty, public washrooms, totally pristine. Perfect!

Unbeknownest to me, M had other plans. He had found a ‘historic beach’ near the Space Center and was heading there instead.

I love driving near the Space Center. After years of seeing shuttle launches on the tv and internet, it is pretty amazing to live so near to where it’s all taking place. We drove past the Space Center with M saying “I’m pretty sure I get in there for free with my teacher discount”

Holla!! We are so going.

We were discussing this so animatedly that we (I guess) weren’t paying that much attention to where we were going.

All of a sudden there was a large gun in my line of sight. As I panned up, I encountered a huge name tag that said ‘Woody’.

Woody is the hardiest, oldest soldier with the most no-nonsense tone of voice, kind of like Al Pacino  in Scent of a Woman (except perhaps a little more sassy), that I have ever met. Outside of a film, that is…

So hey, guess what?

We were apparently trying to drive right onto Kennedy Space Center’s grounds. Did you know you can’t do that? Yup. You can’t.

What you can do, however, is get very detailed directions to the nearest beaches (clearly this is something that has happened before  ). And then you can learn that the ‘historic’ beach you are looking for is located behind Bunker 33 and hasn’t been open to the public in about 50 years.

Ha!!

Holy crap, did we ever laugh. Woody laughed briefly and roughly , as if it wasn’t something that he had done recently… if ever.

Thanks Woody for setting us straight. And thanks GPS for taking us to a ‘historic’ beach (what even is that?!). And thanks husband, for having the best idea ever on an early Sunday morning.

Here’s a few pictures of the Little Man at the beach. I wish I had been able to catch him saying the word ‘beach’. It does, as I am sure you parents can imagine, sound a little different coming from his mouth.

But it’s the cutest thing ever to hear the chant of “Cocoa Beach Cocoa Beach” coming from the back seat. “Cocoa Beach” interspersed with “Water? Beach! Water!”

xoxo j

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Listed

It’s always interesting when you learn things about yourself through your spouse and children. Isn’t it?

The last time my Mum was visiting, she revealed to M that I had always had this funny obsession with pre-planning my meals. When I was little, I would literally eat dinner and plan the next meal while swallowing. and saying things like “This is delicious, but you know what would be awesome next time?”

M laughed so hard when my mother shared that lovely little family tid-bit with him.  I don’t think it was much of a surprise to him though, but apparently quite funny. We all know I have my little quirks. (If you aren’t familiar with them, they are as follows: cleaning too much, too much planning, poor arguing skills [quite embarrassing actually], making lists, making lists of the lists I have just made… obsess much?)

M has now started saying things to me at 6:30 am like “Jame, I really can’t even think about food right now” “Jame, I’m eating eggs, can we not discuss dinner?” “Jame. Jaaaaaaaaaame. Stop.” “Jame, takeout?” Me: “Ok! But what kind of takeout? How do you feel about Thai?” etc etc.

I have stopped talking about it which, I admit, is really hard for me. I need to talk about dinner with someone. Anyone. Ok, I can think of at least 1 person I would never discuss it with, probably because I would only hear about all of the dinners she has made for the past 25 years and their pros and cons. Ah!! Makes me crazy.

Anyways…

So last week, during one of my spin class nights, M put V to bed. This time he climbed in with him. We are about 2 or 3 weeks in to “big boy bed” territory. This means that every night is an adventure. Usually we try to lie in bed with him for a few minutes before ‘night nights’. He has taken to saying to me “Mumma too? Mumma too?!?!” when we head to bed, wanting me to lie with him. If he would not wiggle,I would probably be sleeping there every single night.

Alas, he wiggles. Too much energy. Can’t keep himself still. Even during sleep.

That particular night, he elected to try a new approach to bedtime. No books, he just crawled into bed and told him stories. And apparently they “had a chat”. Per Daddy.

I guess during that chat, V started chatting back. And apparently this is what he said:

“Eggs?”

Waffles?””Apples?”

“Bananas?”

“Pancakes?”

“Cheese?” “Juice?” “Milk?”

He was planning breakfast.

It warmed my heart to hear it. After almost 2 years of looking at my little man and seeing pretty much nothing that reflected me (just a clone of Daddy), my genetic code is showing!

Yes child, plan your breakfasts, just like your Mumma… I will always, with love, support your planning…

xoxo Mumma (and a.m.)

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Big Deal

Lord almighty, did life just get more interesting?

And I say this with a question mark because I am not really sure.  And I will explain why. But just a heads up. It does involve poop.

Getting ready for bed last night was a little rushed because Daddy and V went for a long walk (to buy sandwiches) while I went to spin class. I got home just before them and took over the night-time duties.

We are half-assed potty-training right now. He will sit on the potty and get a treat fs he does. So mostly he wants a ‘teet’ and then gets right off the potty.

Last night I decided to make him count on the potty. When we hit 5, he got a treat and when we finished with 10 he got one more treat. The goal here was just to get him to sit a little longer in the hopes that something would happen.

See where this is going?

Magically there was a poop in the toilet.

I literally looked at it and thought “Now where on earth did that come from?!” Clearly it couldn’t have come from the little bum that was perched on top on the potty seat.

Wha?!t It did? I think Vince was confused as well. I had to tell him what was in there. We looked at it. “Vince poopoo in the potty!! Yay!!” said Mummy.

Vince: “Yayyyyyyyy!!” And then he looked confused. “V!! Poopoos in the potty!!!! Yay!! good boy!!! Awesome!!,”, shouted Mummy.

V: “Awesome!! Yayyyyyy!”

We had to call Daddy up, who also had to look in the toilet and then do some really loud clapping and some heavy praising of the event.

Dude. We hyped that poop the m-f up. We clapped. We shouted. We yelled “Yay poopoo!!!” It was an Event.

And so this morning, we tried it again. No dice. I almost expected that.

I went and bought another book about the potty today, complete with a button that you push which ‘flushes’ the toilet. I showed it to him. He said “No book”. I pretended to read it with great excitement. V said “No Mama no book.” Well. Shit.

Wish me luck tomorrow morning. We will be trying this event again… First thing in the morning. Perhaps we will get lucky. Right?

xoxo a.m.

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X-Ray

V and I went to the Hospital yesterday.

As I learned, it is certainly a nice thing to know a little about where you are going. So, for example, you don’t park on the opposite side of the building and then have to trot in heels carrying a 32 pound child on your hip(s).

Unfortunately, I didn’t. And so I used “Hi!! I’m not sure if I need to be here or somewhere else! Can’t you help me?”repeatedly plus a cheerful tone of voice. This got me up to the 3rd floor and then down to the first and then, happily, to the exact opposite of where my car was (building-wise).

20 minutes late I arrived at admissions. As I plunked V down on the admissions counter, that plunk issued a rather strong odor that mushroom-clouded around my face and that of the girl inputting our info. I think she typed a little faster. The stink got stronger, the typing got faster.

Oh my little stinker… Although I was concerned about being late for the x-ray, I NEEDED to change that bum. And while we were getting changed, we met a crazy lady.

“Oh baby oh baby oh baby, good baby boy good. If you are good Mummy will give you candy! Yes, you will get candy! I will give you candy!!” she cried as she walked past us on her way to a bathroom stall. Who was she? Um, I didn’t know. But at the thought of her offering V candy, I did the quickest change ever, super washed my hands and did a runner.

Yikes.

Ok. X-ray. Here we come. And there we stayed. In the waiting room. Forever. The odor of poo followed us in there. And why did it follow us? Well, that’s because there was more poo. Of course there was. And of course it was the last diaper. (“The last diaper? How is that even possible?” M asked me later. He got a total huge side-eye for that one) And of course we went right from the bathroom directly to a small enclosed waiting room. And, well, you know… That is just my life.

One lead vest later, we attempted the test. V was not cooperative. I don’t blame him. I wouldn’t be either. The first shot was ok. A standing profile. There we were, facing each other, trying to let the tech get a side shot. I knelt down to a bit more to be on his level and well, darn it, he knelt down too. So cute!! It wasn’t quite what was needed to get the shot, but it sure made me laugh…

I didn’t know they needed to do 2 shots but apparently it’s a requirement. The second shot was a horizontal shot. I had to lower him onto a table, hold his head still and with the other arm, pin his arms down while the tech held his legs. He was so scared he couldn’t even move. He just cried and lay still while Mummy whispered ‘brave boy’ over and over again. Ick.

But before all of this?

While we were waiting, V got a little restless. And by little, I mean a lot. We took a walk and encountered the ‘Disney Pavilion’ at the hospital. It was a whole interactive jungle themed corner, with characters from The Jungle Book and Finding Nemo. Quite cute actually, but something about it hit V the wrong way. And then he saw a monkey and it terrified him.

“No monkey no monkey no monkey no monkey,” he whimpered. This was quickly followed by “No fish no fish no fish no fish” when we left the pavilion and walked past an aquarium. Huh.

No fish and no monkey followed us all the way through both waiting rooms, the scan room, the actual scan, back up to the 3rd floor, down to the 1st and through the parking garage, all the way home in the rain and into the house.

“Daddy!! No fish!!!!!!! Noooooooo monkey,” he shouted on our arrival home.

And this morning when he woke up?

“Mummy!! Mummmmmmmmmy! No fish. No. No fish. No monkey. Monkey? NO monkey.”

Isn’t it funny how it is the little things that affect the most? It’s the fish and the monkeys and the butterflies (right Tara?). And so I wonder today as I listened to him talk about monkeys and fish, will these things be a permanent scar? Did I just accidently scar my child for life? Were those fish and that monkey so scary, plus the X-ray, that those three things are now permanently burned together and will always be associated?

Lord, I hope not! No more trips to the zoo for us.

On the plus side of things, the x-ray showed that his adenoids are not enlarged. They are normal. It did, however, show 4 molars. 4 new molars that haven’t shown up ye., 4 molars that are, apparently, about about to totally erupt through his jaw at any moment.

Sweet!!!!!!! Awesome!!!!!!! Dude!!! (3 words of V’s that seem appropriate)

For real, I know you are so jealous. Right?

xoxo a.m.

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Fine

As the week progresses, the saga of the Big Boy Bed continues…

And, as always with a 2 year old, it is a learning experience. Not just about them, but about oneself as well.

Tuesday night, after I got home I headed right to spin class. M stayed home with Little Man, made him dinner and did the whole bedtime routine. I got home at 7:22. I remember the exact time because I was shocked that the house was so quiet.

“How did it go?” I asked curiously.

“Piece of cake,” he said.

“Really? No drama?”

“Nope. Not really,” he said abstractedly as he googled or binged or whatever it was he was doing on the laptop.

Huh.

Well. Um. I didn’t really know what to say to that. Maybe he just had a lucky night.

And tonight? Dinner went fine, bath-time went fine, story-time went fine. Everything went fine fine fine fine fine. It was all fine. Really just plain fine. And then we closed the door. M headed downstairs while I hovered nervously outside V’s bedroom door, listening to him cry. I bit my lip repeatedly. I nibbled on my thumbnail.

And while I did this, I listened to the saddest sounds you have ever heard in your whole life. “Mummy! Mummy mummy mummy mummy mummy mummy. MUMMY. Mummy~~~~~~!” I was so sad I started to cry. And then I heard him get off his bed and head for the door and try to open it. That little knob twitched back and forth but he couldn’t quite turn it enough. That was followed by some extremely sad little noises.

I gave in. I opened the door.

“Mummy!”, he cried happily. “Mummy. Yes. Mummy. Yes. Mummy? Yes.” he said as he ran over and sat on his bed. This I took (correctly) to mean that I was supposed to lie down on his bed with him.

I am a sucker. My child is manipulative.

And my son knows this. And after he was settled, I went down and told my husband this. Before I even got halfway through what I was trying to say, he was nodding in agreement. “You are a total sucker,” he agreed. Geee. Thanks Hun!

Mummy is a not as strict as she thought she was. Mummy is, in fact, rather easy to manipulate (kid-wise). Daddy can get V to hold his hand while out for a walk. Mummy?? Less successful.

And tonight? Mummy cooked dinner for V, with V on her hip. If Mummy attempted to put V down, he did a total leg-clench, shrieked “No down. NO DOWN!” at the top of his lungs. If I succeeded in putting him down, he cried, clung to my leg and kept trying to climb up it by using the same technique he employed when escaping from his crib last weekend. And so I cooked dinner with one hand and burned my finger with boiling macaroni water.

High-five Mummy!

It’s kind of embarrassing to realize that your child has, in fact, completely wrapped you around their very small finger. I am, in fact, in full-on worship mode right now. I haven’t quite hit punishment mode, or time-out mode. I find them rather intimidating. I wonder if I am using 2 as an excuse. Is 2 too much for me? Why is M better at handling these things than I am? When did I wimp out and melt all over the place over sloppy kisses? And when did those sloppy kisses turn into some sort of hypnotic control that makes me do his bidding.

Is there too much love? Is that possible? Should I really actually read that book I bought a month ago about punishment for toddlers?

Mummy needs to toughen up. Just a little though. I don’t want to be a total pushover, just an easy cave-in.

xoxo a.m.

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Big Bed

Big boy bed: Part 2

aka Sunday Night Hell

aka I saved the drama for my Mama

Saturday night was rough, but Sunday was rougher. M and I awoke at 8 am after various bed switching, with the tiredest eyes you have ever seen in your life. And the most cheerful boy in the world. Half the family slept well (that would be Chewie and V).

I felt exactly like the day after I climbed Mt Fuji. Worn to the bone. But strangely energetic. I didn’t even take a shower, there just wasn’t enough time!!

We had things to do! And one of them involved visiting a puppy. Total top priority. Really important. And then visit Gramma Sassy and Pop-Pop.And then buy new door knobs for most of our interior doors (none of them have round knobs, but rather more of a handle thing which is really easy to open). And then try to wear our child out.

Because Sunday was a no-nap day. Which I thought was funny, as I really really really wanted a nap. But V wouldn’t not co-operate. So we settled for a pool-date out back in the courtyard. The plan? Sunshine and water can make the hardiest of people pass out from exhaustion.

This did not work. He played forever out there and I had pry him away from the little pool. He ate a HUGE dinner and continued to run a muck everywhere.

Finally, faces grey with exhaustion, M and I made a fabulous parental decision. Bed-time. It was time.

We made it extra alluring by adding a Skype call with Nanna and Grampa in Canada. And we talked up the bed. Talked it the motherf’ing up!!

Well, lets just cut to the chase. He cried. But he was really tired, so I think that encouraged him to get cosy in those blankets. And also, we switched his door knob out, so he can’t open his door anymore.

Go ahead. Judge away. I don’t care.

But that small little change is really helping us train him to stay in his bed and room at night. And once he is used to it? Then that door will open back up. My little monkey is just too wiggly to stay in bed. And my little monkey likes to climb baby-gates. Oh, and my little monkey tried to climb his dresser to get at his new night-light (that I ended up turning off and hiding). and I had a mini-heart attack while trying to stop him.

And after all of this? I headed downstairs, microwaved a veggie patty and slapped it between 2 slices of bread.

Nice. Must work on that.

xoxo a.m.

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