Don't Let it Get You Down

Literally.

Today I had the craziest thing happen to me at work.

I'm lucky I'm alive to tell the story.

This afternoon I was putting files away in the closet where my boss keeps her filing cabinet. There I was filing away minding my own business when all of a sudden the filing cabinet starts leaning toward me. Then all 6 drawers rolled open at once and all the files I had laying on top of the filing cabinet came crushing down on me while I'm trying to hold the filing cabinet up to keep it from knocking me down from the weight of it!

While all this is in the process of nearly killing me, I let out a slight scream. Then one of my coworkers heard me and came running in to the closet asking me what happened and she could see I was nearly being consumed by the filing cabinet. It was like something right out of Amity ville Horror. Or Alfred Hitchcock could have made a movie out of this story right here.

So she grabbed the side of the filing cabinet and started throwing the files on top of a shelf to our left. I'm still holding on for dear life trying not to let the filing cabinet take me to the floor. Then she uses her foot to start kicking shut some of the doors and by this time we were both able to start slowly lifting the cabinet back up and into it's place. Off of me.

My death certificate would have read:

Death By Filing Cabinet.

It could have been worse. I could have died with a mullet.

That's me with a mullet when I was about 8.

Not to mention the 20 year old tennis shoes I'm wearing with the high water pants. And socks that don't match my awesome flannel shirt.

spell check update: spell check will not allow me to type the word crap it's claiming it's misspelled.

Spell check does not use the word crap as frequently as I do. Obviously.

Fe Fi Fo Fum

This morning on my way in to work, the person in the car ahead of me flipped their burning cigarette butt out the window and it came hurling toward me.

I hate that.

Just because I'm quirky and I have to have everything in my life symmetrical I need to know:

Is my header now centered on your monitor?

Did it used to be at the left of the screen?

Because my header had always been centered on the computer I use to post. Then yesterday I used a different computer and my header was at the left of the screen! I was aghast! Actually I wasn't because all of a sudden I don't like that word. It reminds me of being gassy or something. But it did give me vertigo for a moment and caused my symmetrical world to come crashing down so I set out immediately to fix it. Now matter how hard I tried I couldn't get the stubborn thing to center. So finally I prayed! Lord, please help me get this thing centered or maybe I can never possibly blog again! (I'm pretty certain that concerned Him because He likes reading my blog, and I asked Him this morning while I was praying on my way to work to leave me a comment because He still hasn't yet). Anyway guess what! The moment after I prayed I had an "aha" moment and I just did a few little tricks and my header centered!!

Let me ask again.

Is the header now centered on your screen? It's important to me, can you tell?

Jason called me this morning and said Dawson is improvising now.

While Dawson was getting his sandals on he was singing: "I am putting on my sandals, I am puttting on my sandals" to the tune of twinkle twinkle little star.

My son's gonna be a ROCK STAR.

Anyway,

I have a feeling this whole post is going to be an anyway.

Several days ago we had a little note on Dawson's daycare "this was my day" sheet that said

"We had a firedrill today. Dawson did great. He thought it sounded like ducks."

For the life of me I can't think of any fire alarm that sounds like ducks.

I'm sure hoping theirs does.

I'm dying to share one of my favorite pictures. I took it when I went to New York City many years ago with a friend of mine.

If you don't know of my love for pepsi, perhaps this will give you an idea.

I think I may be clinically unusual.

If it helps matters, I just looked up the word "weird" in the thesaurus because I was going to use that word instead of unusual. But weird seemed too boring. My choices were:

Weird
Strange
Odd
Peculiar
Uncanny
Eerie
Creepy
Unusual
Normal (antonym)

What was my original point to this post? Now I can't remember.

Hide & Seek

We're all out of groceries.

We've needed to go to the store for several days now but have been too busy. This means we have no staples. No milk, no butter, no chocolate. To give you an example, last night for dinner Jason and I ate macaroni & cheese. I also had a bowl of cereal (hence the reason for the lack of milk) And Jason had half a totinos pizza.

So this morning for breakfast, Jason gave Dawson a bowl of cereal with water in it. Dawson ate every last bite of it.

To tell you the truth, I don't know what's worse. That. Or seeing Dawson dressed in a striped shirt and plaid pants...

This is also why I had to eat a 2 day old cupcake for breakfast.

Last night Jason asked Dawson to play hide and go seek. Jason decided it was well time that Dawson should learn to cover his eyes and count while Jason goes and hides. Little did we know that Dawson can nearly count to 10 already on his own! Granted, he gets his numbers out of order, but who really needs to have the numbers in order? I failed math all through school, and I still don't need it. much.

The following video is of Dawson hiding. You'll never guess where he is. I'm also admitting this video into evidence as proof that I have a strong willed child that I have to force to love me.

Final story:

We had one stack of library books and dvds that needed returned to the library. They were overdue. No worries-we are not repeat offenders. This meant I had to rush home from work, run in, grab the hot loot, and rush to the library to get them turned in. It's $1.00 for each day they are overdue. Three of the dvds I knew were overdue. That is a stupid word. Overdue. Knowing I was going to be the one doing the grunt work because he wouldn't be home, Jason asked to me make sure I took Dawson in with me when I returned the movies. Not because he was afraid Dawson would get kidnapped while waiting in my car. Because the librarians there love Dawson. Each time we go to the library these 2 women dote on Dawson like he's the best thing since Frank Sinatra. Dawson can be running around tearing the place apart, taking books of shelves, wreaking havoc and they just think he's great. As you can see, Jason was plotting a scam like no other. Use Dawson as bait to get out paying our dues. Of course, being the good Christian woman I am, I certainly wouldn't even have thought of that. But I did take Dawson in with me when I got there. I gingerly placed the spoils on the check-in counter and nonchalantly walked over to the dvd aisle scouring other items I could forget about once I got home. In the meantime, the older librarian walked over to me asking me how Dawson's potty training was going. I thanked her for asking and replied that he will be potty trained by the time he's 15. We chit-chatted for a bit and she talked to Dawson for a few minutes and headed back to the counter. Then the guilt settled in and I needed to get home anyway, so I called Dawson over and walked up to the counter asking if she could look up our account, I was thinking we had some overdue items. The younger girl was at the counter. She loves Dawson but she can be an overdue nazi so I prepared for the worst. She looked up my name first. No overdue charges on my account. Didn't think so. Look up my husbands account please, I had to stop at CVS today and get cash back so that I could pay you and now my child will have to eat cereal in water for breakfast. She looked up Jason's account. No overdue charges on that one either.

SWEET BLISS.

The older lady had been the one to check-in our illicit plunder, and she removed our overdue charges because she loves Dawson.

It's great having a kid.

March On

Yes. You will remember from my last post that I was in marching band in highschool. Let's reminisce for a moment, shall we?

Look at me. Don't I look like my mind is singing "I'm proud to be in the marching band, where at least I know I'm hot."

The girl helping me is Crystal Keen. We were neighbors and best friends growing up. She looks much more chic in her marching band hat than I ever did. Maybe it was my glasses.

Speaking of Crystal, she and I both played flute. Once, we decided to take a flute duet to a contest called ISSMA. I don't even remember what ISSMA stands for anymore. Probably "I'm So Smart Making Anchovies" or something. Anyway, the day we went to contest, we dressed exatcly the same. White dress, white dress shoes with pink ribbons in our hair. Our English teacher saw us and made fun of us everyday in class for the rest of our English going lives. However, I never wore pants on my head like some of my friends did... ha ha! Just kidding Dani! I busted up laughing at your blog post.

Glade update: We now have White Tea & Lily air freshner in our office bathroom.

2 quick stories then I'm outy like Jason's belly button:

This conversation took place between Dawson and I just as we were leaving church on Sunday:

Me: Oh Dawson you look so handsome!

Dawson: Handsome? he asked. Followed by silence...

then emphatically he declares:

Dawson: I'm cute!!

And speaking of Sunday, Jason and I were in a rush to get around before church. So Dawson took a shower with me. (this is not going where you think it is) He's started this thing where he hates getting soap in his eyes (thanks Cora, ha ha!) so anyway, I was holding him up to the shower spiget to rinse his hair out and he was screaming out "what's going on here?!" It made me bust up laughing. Where on earth did he learn that sentence?

True Story

I have invited a very special guest to share with us today.

Today's edition of blogging with Joy, is brought to you by my favorite sister-in-law, Jenessa. Her story should be shared on that channel with the wedding story's on it, and then, they should offer to do her whole wedding for free.

This story is not for the faint of heart. Especially if you're a BRIDE.

I went to try on my wedding dress today, as I was told it had came in yesterday. I get in the dressing room….they bring me the dress. It’s completely wrong! It’s not a dress I would have even have considered, let alone tried on. In fact, it strongly resembles a nightgown. At first I’m thinking they just grabbed the wrong one. Or an order came in and they thought it was mine. No such luck. After about 10 minutes of frantic searching, the staff came in and said….this is all we have. It’s what Jana (my consultant who has since been fired) said you wanted, and what you tried on. I patiently explained that no, I would have never wanted a wedding dress that looked like a nightgown, and I assured her I would have never have tried that one on.
To make a long, almost comedic story short….I can’t get the dress that I had originally ordered and purchased. The best they could do with that same dress was a version that was ivory with mauve roses on it…which I didn’t like. Or they could get it in white, instead of ivory, which would wash me out. I look better in ivory for sure.

The owner was ready to hand me my money back and let me start over. I wasn’t thrilled with that option….the wedding is weeks away and the chances of finding it in my size, getting it altered/hemmed…etc….is maybe not impossible but extremely expensive and stressful.

THANKFULLY…one of the dresses that I originally had tried on, which two of my friends happened to like better, was still in the store. In my size. The owner offered to give me the other dress, which was $600 more than the one I ordered, for what I already paid. Fair enough deal. It’s a beautiful dress…very striking and simple. Just completely different than the one I originally ordered. No lace, no sparkle. Just a shimmery ivory material with a wrap waist and jewels around the waist. We are adding cap sleeves made of a sheer material with jewels that match the waist embellishment. It’s a gorgeous dress so I’m trying to get over that it’s not the one I ordered or originally wanted. It was one of my top 3, it was just way too expensive to even consider. Unfortunately, the veil that my grandmother made for my mom, for her wedding, does not go well with this new dress at all. That was disappointing. The only veil I like is cathedral length and its $200!!!! So that was a very unexpected expense.

I felt like I was getting PUNKed. Or on a session of candid camera. But…no such luck!

Anyway, it will all work out. But quite the unexpected turn of events!

To add to the horror of this story, they made Jenessa pay the $50.00 rush fee to get her dress sent in time to have it altered and back to her for a first fitting...

Now, if this story just doesn't make your blood boil I don't know what will. When she called me yesterday to share this story with me, I was about to be come:

The matron of honor from h-e-double hockey sticks.

I was fully fired up to call this boutique and tell them:

"Hello, I'm the nightmare called Jenessa's matron of honor. You will first return the $50.00 to Jenessa, and then you will give her the veil she likes for free. Rather than having her sue you for punitive damages, I'm also thinking it would be nice if you could pay for her reception and throw in those Rocky Mountain chocolate covered caramel apples I love for wedding favors. Snap snap."

I actually have a few wedding nightmares of my own but nothing that can top this. Maybe I'll share our wedding story here someday. In the meantime, send some prayers of sanity and peace up for Jenessa!

Complete with Bow-tie.

Well it rained all weekend, so I had the laziest weekend ever. However, I did take a moment during the lazy stint in my career to organize our towel closet and organize some drawers in Dawson's room. It was during this brief burst of energy that I happened upon the most awesome outfit in the history of my husband's clothes.
When I came across this beutiful specimen I quickly called Dawson to his bedroom where I was diligently working. "Dawson! Come here quick!" The moment he walked in the door, I promptly stripped him down and then dressed him up.
See for yourselves what fine pieces of work I live with:

       Jason 1979/1980                                      Dawson 2008

Oh yes, I tried for hours to get Dawson to pose the way his dad did for the picture! But Dawson would have none of it. I did laugh out loud at the fact that the ruffled shirt was so tight on Dawson, the buttons made screaming sounds and I worried that they'd pop right off.
I will say... I think Dawson looks a little amish.
Anyway,
Jason's mom actually gave us several more outfits that belonged to Jason, and I have them safely folded and stored in ziploc baggies, waiting for the opportune moment to try them on Dawson. Dawson eats more than his dad ever did. That's for sure!
It's too bad I have no baby clothes of my own. Dawson would make a cute little girl model.

Tut-Tut, Looks Like Rain.

Today is a rainy day. Because of this I decided to reward myself with a Starbucks Peppermint Soy Mocha. I go for soy now, because it's creamy and makes me feel like a Starbucks professional and not an amateur. But of course I get the WHIP on it. You should see the looks of horror I get when I do that! What? She's asking for soy and she wants whip? Clearly she's not on a diet! Of course they can't ask me that out loud because if they did I would give them a good thrashing about my workout schedule and I've had a baby for goodness sakes... 2 years ago.. And I NEED the whip on my mocha dangit! Anyway, Everyone needs rewarded on rainy days, am I right? And now that I think about it, it's an hour later and it's still raining, so I'm thinking I need rewarded again.

Maybe I'll eat steak.

Now about that diet thing....

I'm currently doing the "weight loss challenge" as we call it, at my office. Yesterday was my first one week weigh-in after declaring myself worthy of the challenge.

I lost one pound.

pshhhhh. So. to reward myself for losing that one pound, I went to Dairy Queen with my husband and got a pecan turtle cluster blizzard and french fries. Okay. So actually I was so mad that after all my hard work and my extensive workout routine that I only lost one measly pathetic pound, that I went on strike. But then... someone at my office told me that there have been a few changes and we had to combine people from one of the elementary schools along with ours because we didn't have enough people signed up. And now the there is more $$ in the pot to win. Aha. New motivation. But then it rained this morning and I needed a Starbucks peppermint mocha with whip so I'm skipping breakfast.

And Maybe I'll run up and down the stairs to the basement 11 times.

Speaking of my office.

A few days ago I was sharing with a few of my coworkers my insights on the plight of deodorizers. Because you see, coffee is an instant laxative for me. So I always have to go to the bathroom immediately after the first two sips of my coffee. And I have noticed that after spraying the refreshing scent in the bathroom after completing my business (or "taking the browns to the superbowl", as my husband says) that rather than removing the unpleasant odor from the room, it just makes the room smell like tropical poop. (Do you like how I think the words "tropical poop" look so much more enticing in a nice shade of burgundy?" Like people in Hawaii have poop that smells this way or something. Really, my coworkers had no comments on the matter (ha! matter!) but they did agree.

I should have my own talk show.

Anyway,

Yesterday my sister told me she found $50.00 at her place of employment. Being the honest person she is, she turned the money in to her manager and her manager told her if the money does not get claimed, she would let my sister have it.

My sister could really use that money.

She went around to the other employees asking if anyone had claimed the money. But... the money had "come up missing". Someone she worked with had taken the money for themselves.

If you are like me, doesn't just injustice rise up in you, and you want to just wallop that person over the head and yell "give my sister her money you poop-head!" That's how I felt. But the rationalizing, reasoning person in me said that what I should say is somethin along the lines of "Oh, well, maybe God will reward you for being honest, and you will get 100 dollars and 73 cents by mail soon, and you wouldn't have, had you not turned in that $50.

But maybe not. Maybe honesty is her reward. Kind of like rather than rewarding your child for getting an A on a report card, the A is it's own reward. I don't know. Just a thought.

Thanks for all your comments and valuable advice on yesterdays post of raising a strong willed, independent child! Although I'd like for Dawson to sleep by me at night, he asks for, and usually walks to his own bed at night. Seriously, what kid does that? I actually even tried laying down by him in his bed last night and he said "No mommy, go way." (not away, just way) And then he pushed me out. But he did say "Night night, and Yuv You" as I walked out of the room. So I have rigged a contraption that will velcro him to my side, complete with duct tape. Don't worry, he will still have his hands free.

This picture says it all:

But then this one says he has potential.

Never mind that he's eating 3 month old popcorn in the picture.

To end this extremely long and rambling post...

I have broken out my old Crystal Lewis CD. The one I listened to on a daily basis my senior year of high school. And this morning, on my way to work I was listening to this song, belting it at the top of my lungs and bobbing my head around to the beat while innocent drivers passed me by wondering if I have tourettes. But now, this is the kind of day I'm having. So my heart continues to sing it. Perhaps yours will too.

Lord the light or your love is shining,

In the midst of the darkness shining, Jesus light of the world shine upon us,

Set us free by the truth you now bring us,

Shine on me. shine on me.

Shine Jesus shine, Fill this land with the fathers glory

Blaze, spirit blaze, Set our hearts on fire

Flow, river flow, Flood the nations with grace and mercy

Send forth your word, Lord and let there be light.

Lord I come to your awesome presence, From the shadows into your radiance,

By the blood I may enter your brightness,

Search me, try me, consume all my darkness, (I love that line)

Shine on me. shine on me.

As we gaze on your kindly brightness, So our faces display your likeness

Ever changing from glory to glory, Mirrored here may our lives tell your story

Shine on me. shine on me.

Thumbsucker

I have a little thumbsucker. Here he is in color AND in black & white.

So how do you get a child to stop sucking their thumb?

I sucked my finger (not my thumb) until I was in kindergarten. And for the life of me I'm not quite sure why I stopped. No one bribed me, put nasty tasting stuff on my finger or cut my finger off.

But it's so darn cute.

He also has the little ear tug thing going on. And because of the two combined he has done a perfectly splendid job of sleeping well from the time he was 6 weeks old. That, and the fact that we had him on a schedule. Oh, and I had to call my mom over one afternoon to watch Dawson so I could sleep because he wouldn't and she let him nap on his tummy..

What else?

Less than a month until the APPLE FESTIVAL where I buy one dozen maple bun bars and eat random selections of food until my belly button becomes and outy. Jason can't do that because his belly button already is an outy.

While I'm at it, I also need a bit more advice. For a any of you out there with very independent, strong willed children... This one is for you.

You know, I held Dawson while he slept as a baby. I cuddled, hugged, and gave him kisses.

Then he turned 2.

I made the "2" poop brown because that's how I feel.

I'm still at the stage where I feel guilty for working rather than being able to stay home with Dawson. So sometimes when I get home I just want to hold him in my lap or have him want my attention.

Instead, he wants to do his own thing!

"No Mommy" he says. no. no. no.

So then I force him.

"You will sit on my lap and you will like it."

Then he screams and wiggles and yells, I want my daddy!

So I make him go to bed. just kidding.

Will he grow out of this though? Pretty please?

Okay,

Verse of the day:

My soul finds rest in God alone; my salvation comes from him.

Pslam 62:1

Study to Worship: My College Experience

Because I had such a dramatic experience deciding whether or not I was going to even GO to college, you can imagine the turmoil I faced once it was time to declare a major. The pressure was on, so I just picked something. I decided to major in psychology. I’m quite interested in human behavior (especially when people are neurotic and dysfunctional!) and since I loved music I figured I could take some music classes and perhaps do something with music therapy. This went all well and good until the first semester of my sophomore year when I had to take “Probability and Statistics” and I had to pass it! I got a D. All of my other grades were up so that brought my GPA down and made me mad. And I despise math, so I determined to change my major right then and there. I decided to pursue music.

Church Music Ministry became my new major. I actually didn’t like that title, because I would have rather it been, “Worship & the Arts” or something like that, but Bethel is a tad on the conservative side when it comes to anything dealing with the word “worship” so I went with it. My overall desire became to travel to different countries, holding worship conferences, teaching and learning from other nations about worship. Bethel didn’t offer that as a major, but now I think Youth with a Mission does! Maybe someone there will read this blog post and allow me to attend there for free.

Now, one thing everyone must know about me: I have the worst case of stage fright of anyone in this entire planet. Hands down. I am terrified of singing in front of people by myself. It’s bad. I forget the words to anything I’m singing, my heart pounds out of my chest, my legs shake, my palms sweat, I sing off key and... several days beforehand I'll have "the big D". Humiliation and embarrassment of all kinds follow.
Welcome: Performance Class.As a requirement for being a music major, you have to take performance class and sing a memorized piece of music in front of your whole class once a month. OH the horror! When I found that out I almost jumped ship. Certainly there had to be a degree in NOTHING. I bet those tassels are white. But God continued speaking to my heart and telling me this was it. So I ran hard after the church music ministry degree, failing performance class once a month. Oh I always came to class prepared with a song on the day I was to sing, however, on most occasions, I had to throw in the words “something, something” and proudly display my music skillz while sweating profusely, with a bad case of diarrhea, singing off key.

There were actually only about 20 other students in my class at the time. But I had to endure this trauma both semesters for 4 years! (cue scary music).

Lets please take a moment of silence in my honor.Now, let’s pull ourselves together and visualize what I felt the day I realized that there is a

Senior Voice Recital…
For most music majors, this is the day they live for. Their moment to shine. To show off their incredible talent and let the world know they should be on the radio. (May I just interject my own opinion here for a moment? –I don’t like that part of the musical world. It’s not only in the secular world, it’s in the Christian arena as well, and it stinks. However, the pride of low self-esteem works the same way and is no better, so I had my own issues.)
I cried for days leading up to my senior voice recital. I prayed and pleaded with God that he would let this cup pass from me.Though you slay me, I will trust you Lord. Oh goodness. Just writing it out brings up all those emotions of fear I had. I had one song, out of all the rest that I was determined I would make it through. It was called “Mary’s Song” and it's by (Cindy Rethmeier) Vineyard. We had songs we were required to sing and one we were allowed to choose off the beaten path so that was my choice. It epitomized what my heart stood for. To draw close to God in worship, so that’s what I wanted to express during my senior voice recital. That it’s NOT about me, but about Him. My 2 best friends were going to join me on this occasion to help me on this particular song: Kate played piano and Kelsi was going to dance.
The day of the recital I was in knots. I felt sick. But it was the most beautiful day. As the time approached for me to get this thing through, an overwhelming peace came over that just calmed all my fears. A feeling of confidence came with it, as though God would just take over and do this for me. I went out on that stage and sang. I remembered all the words. I sang on key, and when it was time to sing Mary’s song, I changed into a peasants dress, and came on stage barefoot.

Singing that song let worship flow through me like it never had before. And even if no person in that audience could feel it, it didn’t matter. GOD DID. I made it through the entire recital that night, focused and relaxed. And when it was all over I thanked God and then went with my friends to celebrate at HACIENDA! One of my favorite restaurants in my college town.

Now that I have seen the grace of God and what He is willing to do for something as silly as a young terrified singing girl, I know that He can accomplish so much more.

I encourage you, let Him.

Don't Read This

So,

We were at my dad's house the other day. He has a gator that Dawson loves to ride. Maybe it's because my family squishes as many people into it as possible and he likes that squisy feeling of comfort. I'm thinking we could challenge the VW bug squishers of the old days.

Bug vs Gator

My sister Karen holding Dawson with her son Corbin making a face that says I'm his favorite aunt, and my brother-in-law Tim looks bored. Perhaps he has learned that move from Dawson?

There's my dad's knees in the left corner! Didnt' want to make my dad feel left out.

Jason and I took Dawson for a paddle boat ride on my dad's 2 ft pond. It's narrow and short, but deep I guess. Not that I'd swim in it anymore. The fish are mutated I think.

Dawson! You are so HAPPY to be hanging out with your mommy!!

Of COURSE we let Dawson climb the ghetto sled! His favorite part is nearly falling to his death while getting splinters in his shins.

Bye Dawson! Enjoy your extremely fun, happy ride!

Watching my dad play "pound it" with Dawson always makes me smile. Perhaps I see a bit of the dramatic gene in my dad that I sometimes partake in?

Mr. Big Stuff Strikes Again

Look who can put his own shoes on now...

Mr. Big Stuff

Guess who gets his own Big Boy Bed now?

Dawson's crib converts into a toddler bed. Jason and I have been talking for a few weeks now about going ahead and converting it because Dawson sleeps on a cot in daycare and he never has tried climbing out of his crib to sneak out of the house. So Jason put his bed together.

I was especially curious as to what Dawson's reaction would be. He seemed pretty excited.

Though last night when it was time for bed, he was really whiney and was determined to watch a "mooby" with us in our bed. He didn't nap at daycare and I feel awful when he's tired and gets tears in his eyes. I'm such a softy! So I brought him in with us to watch a movie. He fell asleep in about 10 minutes. So I snuck into his room this morning to get a picture of him sleeping in it. Then I felt the need to wet down his bed head. No I didn't.

As I was checking out the bed, I was noticing all the teeth marks Dawson had left behind from his teething days.

How on earth did that child keep from getting sick? He must've ingested 10 pounds of wood chips!

If I have a problem with someone, I don't pee on them

I'm giddy with excitement over all the comments I got on my last post. It's causing me to think I need to post about potty training every day, just so I can get more comments.

I was told by a coworker that there used to be a gentleman that worked in our office who would take the spoon from the spoonholder by the coffee & creamer, use it to stir his coffee, lick it, and then put it back on the spoonholder.

She found that out the hard way.

Be thankful you don't work with one of those.

Anyway,

Only 3 more shopping months until Christmas!!

Moving on to the fun we had on Labor day:

After several hours of conversation concerning how bored we were we decided to go to Chain-O-Lakes State Park. And now that I'm seeing it spelled out, I'm loving the fact that they have the "O" in there. Like it's an Irish park or something. But it's not. Don't be fooled.

Part of the conversation concerning our boredom included talking Dawson into keeping his sunglasses on. Because he looks way too cool to keep taking them off. Which he did.

Off to the Park where we swam.

Well, Dawson floated. Jason and I waded in up to our chests and it took us about 35 minutes to do that because the water was so cold and we are wimps.

Then we went for a paddle boat ride while Dawson constantly tried getting into the back of the paddleboat to jump off the paddleboat into the water. This is why we opted out of the canoe. Maybe we should have opted for the canoe.

Lastly, (say like you are ending the thesis statement for a big research report) we found a spot at the park to grill out.

Notice the ghetto rig Jason came up with to level out the grill. Notice also that the hotdgo is Dawson's. Jason calls it "tube steak."

Jason grilled.

Dawson got bored.

Then Jason got bored.

You know you're bored when you fake smoking a log just because the end of it is smoking.

I'm hoping you all will notice the fab BAM-BAM hair I'm sporting.

Actually, the Flintstones to the idea for Bam-Bam's hair from me.

Adventures in Potty Training

So we had our first potty training experience this weekend. I mean it was labor day, and we had to work. Work on putting pee-pee in the potty.

I'm a little stressed out on this whole issue if I must say so. Little boys have to have a "guard" so that pee doesn't go splashing everywhere, including mommy or the wall. Regardless, I decided this weekend I would really give it a shot. In preparation for this big event I took several steps.

In the guest bathroom on the sink I put:

• 1 bag of iced animal crackers
• 3 story books
• 2 toy cars
• 1 stool to step on to get up to the toilet seat.
• 1 toddler butt sized toilet trainer seat.

Mind you, Dawson has sat on his potty chair a few times. But he never went potty. He sat, he was bored instantly and said "I done" within 20 seconds. Not this time pal! We will sit here all day. Mommy can have daddy bring in the dvd player while you pee over and over again if need be.

My first attempt:

I was feeling gung-ho just as soon as Dawson woke up from his afternoon nap. So came and scooped him up and headed straight for the bathroom. No time to dawdle or exchange pleasantries about what he dreamt about or needing to get eye boogers out. He needs to PEE! He was excited to see that the stool he uses to stand on was now leading up to the toilet so he had no ill will climbing up to sit. He sat. First I tried giving him this little hand-held "Deal or No Deal" game I bought Jason to play with while he pooped. But Dawson couldn't figure out how to work it. So next I tried his cars. He scooted over to drive the cars on his potty chair because his potty chair is the "Cars" theme. So, I decided to go for the book. "Curly needs a Home". We got through the first 3 pages (there are only 5) and SSSSSS. He did it! He went potty!

I screamed and clapped and jumped as Dawson looked around, perplexed, wondering what happened. I immediately praised him, gave him a cookie for sitting on the potty, and a very special treat for going in the potty!-A piece of a nutty bar! Then we called Gramma KK and Gramma G to tell them the BIG news.

I tried several more times that day. No luck. And I really needed to get out of the house.

The following day, no luck either.

Sunday...

After church we went to my mom's house. She has this nifty little potty seat that is actually bolted on over the top of the regular seat. You can put the small one up and never remember that it's even there. So I thought to myself-hey! Dawson can try and go potty before we head out to the Marshmallow Festival!

We get to my mom's house. I run Dawson in and sit him on the potty immediately then leave for just a moment begging my mom for some toys. (We are in a hurry, we're all hungry.) She points to the box with the toys in it and I grab a truck and a golf ball.

Hmmmmm.

I run the items in to Dawson and talked to him while he plays. Within 30 seconds he dropped the golf ball into the toilet.

Okay, work with me here! Most people in their right minds wouldn't even THINK to hand a golf ball to a toddler to play with while they're being potty trained.

I do not claim to have a right mind.

Oh you have got to be kidding me, is what I think. But I yell out "OH NO!"

Did you know that golf balls don't float?

Jason came running into the bathroom wondering what had happened. So I hesitantly told him but I knew I would have to go fishing for the stupid thing, you couldn't even see it in the toilet so it had gone in the hole! Augh! I took Dawson off the stool and hoped Jason would get a diaper on him, (which he did) and reached down to the toilet hole, retrieved the golf ball, washed the golf ball and my hands, and learned my lesson.

I have asked for a portable dvd player to be mounted on the wall in our guest bathroom.

If you have any advice for a clueless, stressed potty training mother, any and all advice is being taken at this time...