Tag Archives: Toddlers

Inappropriate English

Just yesterday, Edward and I had one of ‘those’ conversations. One that, I think, he was pretty sure was a HUGE lecture. Probably one that lots and lots of wives have had with their husbands. Or not. I mean, I am married to Edward and he is a huge pain in my ass.

But they all are, aren’t they?

Anyways, I came back from the March for Babies in downtown Orlando to a happy home. Vince was full of appetite and life. Edward was cheerful and non-sleep-deprived. The dog was walked. Everyone was terribly happy.

“Vincent, would you like another cup of booger poo-poo milk?” asked Edward, oh so politely.

“NOOOO! I no like booger poo-poo milk”, Vince responded in a manner that indicated that he had been asked this question before.

And why would I even be a little surprised by this. Edward teaches him all sorts of ridiculous things, things which usually result in ‘looks’ from me. ‘Looks’ that I am pretty sure that Edward has learned to ignore.

Because he still teaches him ridiculous things.

So back to yesterday….

“Please, please. Can you teach him English?? Please?”, I asked, while most likely making a face, which means I was trying to not make a face. Which is another face entirely.


“I will teach him anything I want to!”, he proclaimed proud and firmly, “It’s my fatherly right.”

I rolled my eyes. Men. Whatever. This was just a pointless argument waiting to start. This was something I was going to leave alone for the time being.

Or, at least I thought I was going to…

Later that day, Vince and I hit up the grocery store. We were running low on Vincent snacks among other things. Needed some fruit, stuff for dinner, some milk.

We hit up the dairy section and I reached into the case to grab a couple of litres of milk.

“Mummy! Mummy Mummy Mummy! I no like booger poo-poo milk!”, Vince sing-songed while I was reaching.


And as we rolled through the aisles, he continued to shout this out at varying levels of loudness.

Finally I called Edward. “Thanks honey. Thanks”.

“What?!?!” he replied bewilderingly. But he knew. Oh, he knew. And then I made him listen. Listen as his son sang the most ridiculous song about boogers and poopoo at the top of his lungs while I pushed him around the grocery store.

That Bastard.

That Bastard who then apologized to me profusely. And then promised to be more conscientious of what he talked about with Vince. You honestly would think an English teacher would have better sense. Right?

Clearly I have married a crazy person.

xoxo a.m.


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You are not stupid (despite what my child says)


Life is hard. It's harder when you're stupid.



Lots of interesting things to discuss this week…

First up? Vincent’s surprising vocabulary development. Last week, it gave me a bit of a shock and I really thought hard about where it could have originated from. I came to the conclusion that it must have been school. Lets be honest, that is where all of the negative things seem to come from.

And the phrase? Oh, it’s a good one. It sure it. It has shades of me picking up ‘shit’ in middle school and using it as often as possible. Remember Jodi? This might be the ‘shit’ equivalent of pre-school.

“You’re stupid”, Vince said, fake angrily to himself in the backseat.

We were driving home from work and daycare last week, when I hear this from the backseat. Now, I hear a lot of things from the back seat, but this was the first time I had heard a word like that.

I tried quite hard to ignore it. He kept saying it. A few days passed, I thought he’d forgotten it and then it made a reappearance. And there was an odd conversation. A conversation between Vince and his potty.

His turtle potty. The one that has a happy, smiley face on it.

He picked it up, right off of the potty where it usually sits. He looked at, eye to fake plastic eye and proceeded to say “Look at me. Look. At. Me. Don’t do that! Don’t. Do. That. You stay here. Right here”.

And then, there was some dramatic license.

“You stay here, in da dark. Ders monsters. See? I show you! It’s ok turtle! It’s ok!” It was a kind of good cop, bad cop thing. It made me giggle.

And then today… ‘you’re stupid’ made a reappearance. In the car on the way home, he whipped out the phrase.

I was SO mad. Plus, it’s stupid daylight savings time which always does an awful number on our family. Plus work sucked. So, I was not in the mood.

And so I tried various methods in the car on the way home, trying to reason with my 2 1/2 year old, something to get him to stop saying that phrase.

“Those are Mummy and Daddy words, Vince. Those are not words for Vincents to say” was the first attempt. Which resulted in more repetition of the phrase. Which resulted in the what I thought was the ultimate threat. A spank on the bottom.

Well, that threat had no impact at all. Guess what did?

“I’m going to tell Daddy what you said”.

Oh man!! I hit the big time! Best threat ever! In the whole world! I for sure deserve a parental high-five for that.

And that threat seemed to bring the rest of the threats in line. V repeated “Dees Mummy Daddy words. Not Vincent. I getta spank on da bottom. Dont’ tell Daddy!”

Nice. And all I ended up doing was looking stern and glancing in Daddy’s general direction. But I hate how this is happening so soon. Shouldn’t he at least be in some elementary school class before he learns something impolite? Or is it just inevitable?

Or maybe I am just too strict? Too strict  with language (as I am a huge pushover-slash-toughest other ever). Regardless, I disapprove of the language.

night night! xoxo a.m.

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Rocket spit

I think, finally, things are starting to settle back into somewhat normal patterns.

I had thought that last week, but then the flu struck! Suddenly and with very little warning. It literally was the week from hell.

There was vomit, abnormally high fevers (104.7!!), lethargy, clingyness. Pretty much all of the shitty things that go along with the flu. I know you have all been there. You know what I’m talking about.

Edward and I took turns staying home with him. By the end of each day, we were literally desperate for adult conversation. I was ecstatic over heading into work. And on the days I stayed home, desperate to go to the gym and go running. Our healthy lifestyle went right out the window. Thai food and red wine… and pizza and wine and etc etc. We threw all our careful plans right out the window, too damn tired to cook or, honestly, do anything.

Blah. But the second he was better? Oh lord. OH LORD.

That would be Saturday. And suddenly, it was like he was never sick at all. Instead, it was rather like he had been resting in order to get into more mischief than usual.

Why on earth I thought of the brilliant plan to go to Florida Mall with him, I will never know. But it seemed a good idea at the time. And why I also thought it was a grand plan to leave the stroller in the car, not really sure.

Edward: “What are you? Some sort of crazy person? Why did you leave it in the car?”

Jaime: “Well, he likes walking with me and I didn’t want to fight with him, or have him insist on pushing the stroller through the crowded mall or… ummm… ya, that’s all I got.”

And my plan would take me to the Aveda store and to M.A.C. Shouldn’t have even bothered, based on my previous experience (see post from 2009 when V puked all over the Aveda store).

Aveda store: I am so sorry that my rambunctious son ran all over your organic bamboo floors, touched all of your organic soy candles and then got behind the counter and tried to play with the cash register. Thank god your uber hip staff was completely focused on the mini-facial she was giving to a customer. She politely ignored me.

M.A.C. store: I am sorry my son repeatedly pulled acorns from his pockets, stuck them in his mouth (ignoring my repeated admonishments) and then rocket spat them out across the store, went and fetched them and popped them back in his mouth. Your uber hip staff was was too busy being uber hip/way cooler than me/pale/trendy etc etc.

He then had many many mini-melt downs on the way out of the mall, turned into many many noodles and just was, in general, awful, mischevious, giggley, whiney and a pain in my ass.

And then when we got to the car he told me “Mummy! That was fun! I am good boy!”

Uhuh. A good boy, eh?

So Vincent is better. Thank goodness.

Now back to our regular routines….

xoxo a.m.

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Boxing Day


Whee! Sleep!



In years past, I have experienced the ‘Boxing Day’ sadness. Too much anticipation of the day prior, which leads to understanding feelings of sadness the day following.

This year,it wasn’t the same. I was anticipating it, yes. But this morning when I woke up, apart from a crappy nights sleep and some bruised ribs from being kicked repeatedly by my precious little angel, things were good. In fact, I enjoyed my 6:30 wakeup kick and cry festival.

And I enjoyed the rest of the day in all of it’s chaos. Even the lack of naps, total house destruction, fighting, timeouts and general disarray. It was all good.

Pretty much it seems that I no longer have time for any kind of post-Christmas emotional wallow. I am in high demand around my castle and as much as I would love to indulge, it just isn’t prudent.

So today, V and I got up at 6:30, had toast and yogurt, went to target, went to BestBuy, stopped by the in-laws for a quick visit, came home, ran 3.5 miles, did laundry, cleaned and rearranged the upstairs.

V was just a wee bit spoiled this year. Unbeknownst to me, Edward had bought a whole other complete set of gifts for Little Man. So while I was under the impression that I was shopping for both of us (as I normally do), he was going to town. End result was small toy shop vomiting in living-room Christmas morning. So my reasonable amount of presents was doubled and then tripled by the time we left Sassy and PopPop’s.

I devoted the remainder of my day today to cleaning out V’s toys. He’s at the age now where he is only interested in cars. Cars and action figures. HotWheels, Toy Story figures, more cars, more things based on Toy Story and some more cars. Oh and some dinosaurs. And some snakes.

Elmo is right out. Plex from Yo Gabba Gabba is in. Little People are out. Batman and the Joker are SO in. As are cars. And cars. Oh, and cars.

Funny, eh? So the house has been purged of baby toys and I formally have a non-baby. I have a son. Not a baby, no no no. A very big boy. Practically a teenager, in fact.

It’s sad and exciting at the same time. I feel sad saying goodbye to his babyness, but this next stage is so exciting and fun. And challenging. And filled with constant fighting. Oh challenges, how I love thee. And man, that little man of mine is one heck of a challenge.

Edward has one more week of Christmas holiday, which means I have one more week of sleeping in until 6:30 on a work day. I think I’ll make the most of it!!

xoxo a.m.

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The end of another busy weekend, which was at the tail end of a very busy week which was at the end of another busy weekend. Busy. Things are buys. This time of year is busy. V is busy. Edward is finally not busy (Winter holiday). Everything else seems to be getting increasingly busy.

Last weekend my most lovely in-laws took my exhausting son to SeaWorld and I went finished my Christmas shopping. How delightful.

Last week was the beginning of that wonderful time of year where absolutely everyone attempts to take a holiday at the same time at the office, which results in never enough people to cover everywhere, which makes things feel a little frantic.

Makes some people a little cranky. I, however, have been annoyingly chipper which probably means some coworkers are cursing me. I am on a vitamin/exercise high, man! I am running like a freak, doing daily vitamin D and flax seed oil and am getting B12 injections. I feel freaking amazing. And have a retardo amount of energy. And have no patience for people being shitty or cranky (unless I like you).Then you can be shitty or cranky all you like, I’ll just laugh at you a lot more. But still love you.

Anyways. Busy. Things are busy.

My son is quite busy. Here are some things that are increasing his busyness:

“Mummy!! No kisses! No like it!!”

“Mummy!! No hold a hand! No like it!”

“Mummy, am I good boy!!!”

“Uh-oh. I broked it.”

“Mummy? It’s broken”

“Mummy? Chewie broke it”

Our poor Christmas tree. It is slowly getting denuded.Well, the top is decorated with everything really fragile and the bottom holds the majority of the non-breakables. Or so I thought.¬† I had to trash 3 ornaments this week because they were broken beyond fixing. One Chihuahua with absolutely no legs (and I don’t know where the legs are). One snowflake. One train with numerous missing pieces.

And, brave soul that I am, I put presents from his Auntie Tamsin under the tree. So far they have survived 2 days of not being opened (apart for that one I opened as it clearly was Cheezies and I needed to eat them).

Edward gave me the raised eyebrow when he saw that. And also an almost undertone “Are you a crazy person?” chuckle. Well I’m not! NOT!! So there! They are still there. Even the one that makes noise, that got accidentally kicked this evening. And then kicked again so it made more noise. And then kicked one more time, at which point it was removed from the general vicinity to curious eyes and will not be seen again until this coming Saturday.

Anyways. I am about to embark on a super busy 2 weeks. Will post more.

love you! xoxo a.m.



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Faking it

V wasn't paying attention

And just like that, we are back to food and bedtime issues. It appears to be a never-ending, cyclical thing.

What a huge turd.

Anyways, I’m not going to go through the whole huge complaint again. You’ve all heard it a million times. Won’t eat anything I make blah blah blah… a billion dinners blah blah, hates everything blah blah, won’t go to bed blah blah, lots of crying blah, hates school blah blah blah..

And of course the bipolar switch of ‘loves school, loves everything I make, gobbles down dinner and sleeps just like a little angel’.

It’s exhausting to keep up with.

Last night, during the Battle of the Bed, I though I would try a new tactic. It was called ‘faking it’.

This entails lying still on the narrow twin bed that V sleeps on, pretending to be ‘sooooooooo tired’ that I fall asleep, hopefully encouraging him to feel sleepy too and fall asleep next to me.

And I was so tired that I almost fell asleep too. So I am lying there, faking it, trying not to succumb to the pillow and the blanket. Tough. Very tough.

Things started to get calmer in the room. I stayed awake. Just.

And then a little hand started patting my face. Patting my cheeks and nose. Then my mouth. Then 2 little fingers poked their way into my mouth. I did not move. Mustn’t encourage child. Fake it good.

So I lay there with fingers in my mouth, little nails running over my front teeth. I did a fake ‘yawn and stretch’ type move and dislodged the fingers. 30 seconds later, the fingers were back in my mouth and the second hand started patting my nose and I felt fingers near my nostrils.

And that’s when I ended my attempt at faking it. Fingers up the nose? No thank you!

Faking it does not appear to work. At least not over here. All I get was 2 fingers in my mouth and one almost up my nose. And I got giggled on. (As in he giggled right in my face, all heavy hot breath and all. Few drops of saliva mixed in).

So Edward is dealing with the bedtime battles now. I am on poop-patrol. I have yet to decide if this is a far trade-off. Hmm.

xoxo a.m.



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Monday night poop

The last 2 weeks or so seem to be the beginning of a vocabulary explosion in the Little Man. And sentence structure. And chattering. Non-stop.

Vince’s latest things to say?

“Mummy, that’s funny!”

“Chewie, don’t bite Mummy’s pants. That’s bad.”

“Chewie is too noisy. Be quiet!”

And this evening?

“Mummy? Vincent poo-poo bath-tub! Ewww! Stinky poo!”

I thought it was all talk. But, as it turns out, it was action too. “Daddy!!”, I hollered, “I need you!!”

“What?!” Edward shouted in reply.

“Poop in the tub!! I need help!”

And so while Edward got V cleaned up, pajamaed and read him a few stories, I fished poo out of the tub with a paper towel. This is not a fun game. The motion of the paper towel under water causes ripples that make the poo drift away from your paper-wrapped hand.

And if, say, you had a tub filled with bubbles, it turns into ‘hide and seek with poo’. Not ‘Hide and Seek with Pooh’ as that would actually be fun. Just me, on my knees beside the tub carefully scooping turds out and depositing them into the toilet.

Funnily enough, V was not in the slightest bit upset that this happened. Like the last few times it did. He was just very matter of fact. And then stood there, very patiently, while I fished him out of the tub and rinsed him off. And then promptly told Daddy all about it when he came upstairs.

There might have been a hint of pride in his retelling of the story.

Lord. Help. Us.

What a perfect ending to a lovely day…

xoxo a.m.


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Sunday evening

Sunday night and I am home, on the couch, enjoying a quiet evening. Edward had a lot of school prep work this weekend and Vince and I spent a lot of busy time together.

Not that I don’t love every second I spend with him, but I also enjoy those times when he goes to bed early and I quietly read, knit, watch Project Runway etc and decompress.

I have the day off tomorrow. It’s Columbus Day down here but Thanksgiving up in my favorite Northern country. Last year, I attempted to celebrate it, but we spend part of the weekend in After Hours Pediatric care and the rest pumping V full of Tama-Flu and having him throw up on me.

So it’s Thanksgiving redux here tomorrow night. My day off will be spent making a roast beef dinner with yorkshire puddings, baking a pumpkin pie and taking V out for waffles at WaffleHouse (that fine upstanding Southern institution). It will be a busy, but very satisfying day. (Hopefully there will be no vomiting)

As for life over here right now? Oh lots of things going on… V is firmly anti-veg right now and I am trying to not make a huge issue of it, slipping them in when I can. He cried the other night when I gave him broccoli and cheese. Ha! Actual tears! A big ol’ pouty face and the phrase “Vincent no like it!! Vincent no like it!!!!!!!”

So broccoli is out of the picture right now, but peas and corn seem to be ok still. Food on a stick is a popular item in out house right now too.

Initially, anything that I put on a stick was devoured. I did a chicken tender covered in Almond butter (peanut allergy improv) and it was inhaled. I did a hot dog. evaporated.

Elated, I got a bit ballsy and tried kebabs with veggies. Now I should also admit that I bragged about him eating. To several people. Prior to the kebab incident.

And I believe that was my downfall… If there had been no bragging, I am convinced that the kebab would have been eatten…

As it were, that darn sentence made a reappearance “Vincent no like it. NO LIKE IT!!” and that was followed quickly by “Hotdog stick please. Please Daddy.” And so Daddy made him a hotdog on a stick and it was inhaled. Followed by a large helping of saffron rice (didn’t know he liked this, but am rather pleased).

We also hate the potty… (not even going to worry about this, just thought I’d mention it). His vocabulary is growing with leaps and bounds and his interest in books remains undiminished (this makes me so happy, you don’t even really know).

What a hodgepodge of a post this evening…

Teeny wee update and I am trying to make more of an effort to post a bit more frequently. Life seems extra busy these days. Just the way I like it…

xoxo a.m.

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I hurried home from work with my brain a big ol’ mess of thoughts.

Get V. Pick up picnic-like dinner somewhere. Zoom home. Change to ‘park’ clothes. Grab blanket. Grab husband. Picnic. Bathtime. Bedtime. Relax with no kids time.

Lots of things whirling around in there, adjusting and readjusting these plans. You know, like normal.

I zipped into Daycare to pick up V and as I entered the building, I could hear my child’s voice echoing down the hallways. The classrooms were over heated and the doors were propped open. Vince was running around wearing a skirt with yellow and black stripes that was somewhat reminiscent of a bumblebee. His hair was all sweaty and clung in little curls around his neck and forehead.

Essentially, he looked adorable.

And in his hands he held 2 huge cookies. It was 5:15 pm. And as far as I am concerned, this is an inappropriate time for cookies. Especially since we are going home and having dinner pretty much immediately.

But wait! It gets better!

His teacher turns to me and says (and I honestly cannot figure out how my head didn’t pop off instantaneously…)…

Anyways, she says: “Oh, he didn’t like the Twinkie I gave him, so we gave him cookies instead”.

I smiled and nodded dumbly and in retrospect, I think it was just shock. Shock was what prevented me from saying anything at all.

I was all contained until I called Edward and we ripped that poorly planned snack to shreds, as well as the clever people that came up with that snack idea. I mean really. REALLY. And also ‘Come On!!!’. And “What the hell?!?!”

About a week ago, I picked up V covered in potato chip crumbs. At 5:15. And another day, I picked him (5:15) as he was stuffing his face with something that looked like Doritos (Nacho Cheese flavor that stained his fingers so badly).

I also don’t consider either of those ‘school snacks’. Not for 2 year olds.

With the chips, Edward and I figured we’d let it slide. We didn’t want him to be the only kid at snacktime that was denied and then make it difficult snacktime-wise for everyone. We were trying to be flexible.

But after the Twinkie incident, that is it.

No more amendable Mummy. I will be stern-faced and possibly finger-shaking Mummy.

I feel disappointed. I feel seriously let down. I have no problem with the menu and meals that the school produces for all of the kids. It’s very thoughtfully organized, very nutritious and healthy.

So I am unsure where these late snack ideas are coming from. And I am pretty sure that no-one is thinking of what parents would think.

Or am I wrong? I’m surely not the only Mum out there who thinks this is so totally wrong? What 2 year old needs a Twinkie?!

My idea of a yummy snack is apple slices. Or possibly grapes. Or something else tasty and crunchy and healthy.

Talking with my Mum last night I told her “You don’t realize how much you are like your Mother until you become a parent yourself”. With every meal-related decision I make, I flash back to our regular trips to Health Food stores as a child. Our yogurt-covered peanuts and raisins, sugar-free gum and fruit-juice gummy bears.

Yup. I am my mother.

But regardless, I think in this situation I might be all the mothers everywhere.

So tomorrow I am trying to leave the house early so I can have some extra time with his teachers to explain my feelings regarding these crazy late snacks and their choices. If I have to bring his own snacks in for him to eat, I will.

I’ll keep you posted on my little confab tomorrow and how it went…

xoxo a.m.

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Still here

Update: There is still no bum on the potty seat. In fact, his teachers told me that he has absolutely no interest in it. Despite many of his little friends being rather interested in it. And so we are shelving that for the moment and focusing on perfecting our “drink from a cup’ skillz. Which, apart from the occasional ‘shake shake shake’ incident, is proceeding nicely…

Life just seems to have gotten really busy over here. V has been having a bit of a rough adjustment to school. Well, mostly to me leaving his room. Ideally, I think he thinks I should stay there all day, crouched on the floor next to where he is sitting, or next to his classroom window, hunting for squirrels on the playground. And then probably curled up next to him on his wee cot.

There are rather a lot of tears when I leave the room. And some mornings we don’t even make it into his classroom… we detour to his old classroom to see his favorite ‘Ms Susan’ in K1 and get hugs.

Lots of morning battles over going to school, wearing our school shirt, turning into his school’s driveway etc etc. And then battles about taking bathes and going to bed in the evening. Edward and I are now fully committed to staying on his bed until he has drifted off. This is the only thing that works. Sometimes we drift off too. I have rescued E from the room many occasion. He has caught me dozing off too.

All of this fun stuff, all these little battles and late night cuddles results in us being worn out! And V’s latest? A 3:30 wake-up call with very loud crying and demands for the ‘big big bed’. We both slowly wake-up and then, after 20 minutes of very sad noises, we give in and he practically leaps into our bed.

So I guess the point of this post this evening is to let you know that WE ARE STILL HERE! AND STILL ALIVE!

And further thrilling posts about urine, feces and general chaos will be coming soon. I am sure you are all looking forward to it…

xoxo a.m.

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