Smile!

Dillon had his first dental appointment today. Those of you who know me well know that I LOVE the dentist. I love going and getting my teeth cleaned. I love the spit sucker. I love even getting cavities filled because I LOVE THE DENTIST THAT MUCH.

So, I was pretty envious that Dillon has such a cool dentist. She has a cute office with lots of toys. She has televisions mounted from the ceiling so the kids can watch while they get their work done. She even has toothbrushes with little games built into the handle, as if brushing could be any more fun than it already is.

Dillon did pretty well, flashing his pearly whites and letting her paint them with fluoride. He toddled around with his "prize" - a stuffed animal that I am pretty sure the dentist harvested from a Happy Meal at some point.

We got ready to check out, and the cute, chipper clerk said, "For Dillon? That will be $130 today."

All the blood in my body rushed to my face. I started to get hot. Seriously? This is my first-ever negative experience at the dentist!!! ONE HUNDRED AND THIRTY DOLLARS? I didn't want to buy Dillon from you - I just let you look in his mouth!

Just as I was about to faint, she said, "Oh wait! I forgot to run the insurance! Um... let's see. That will be $6 for today."

All is right in my world again! See why I love the dentist???

"Volunteering"

AHHHHHHH! Ahhhhh.

That is a shriek of excitement and a sigh of relief. School is out and summertime is here. To manage my sanity, I am making an elaborate calendar of events so that Dillon and I will never be bored. I am working a little, so he will be hanging with his peeps at daycare some, but when he isn't, we are going to have a riot. A riot, I tell ya!

Speaking of riots, today was one.

Daniel and I worked the nursery at church so other people could pay attention to the service without having to cram Cherrios into the mouths of babes. We are actually on this rotating "volunteer" calendar, so every few weeks, we are up for our tour of duty again.

There are two types of volunteers: Primarily there are those whose only qualification is that they have participated in the parenting of one or more children at our church. Secondly, there are always the "crazies" who actually want to spend the hour fishing toy parts out of slobbery mouths.

We are definitely the first type. I would rather pierce my ears with an ice pick than keep kids in the nursery.

This morning, we got settled in. Daniel chose a wooden rocking chair way over in the corner. I chose to sit on the floor and get mobbed by kids. We had a total of 12. A few rotated through some brief naps, but basically it was just us against them for sixty minutes.

One sweet little girl who was MAYBE one year old had a sticker on her back. It said "POTTY TRAINING! PLEASE TAKE ME EVERY 10 MINUTES!" Needless to say, that sticker accidentally found its way into the trashcan. That isn't potty training. That is timing. And I did not have the time.

Another girl cried endlessly, stopping only to push her paci back into her mouth, then she would rev up again, only to drop the paci again. Vicious cycle.

We had a poop disaster about halfway through our tour, and I, being the female on duty, got to deal with THAT.

(Daniel still held down the rocking chair, insisting that if he needed to hold a baby, he could.)

Overall the kids were good until 11:45. At that time, they all started whining for their mothers. I pulled out my secret weapon - Honey Nut Cheerios. Each kiddo got a paper cup and a few snacks to tide them over. In his enthusiasm for food, Dillon clambored over several mini-kids, lunging for the jar of cereal.

En route to my lap, his collar got hung on the knob of a cabinet. His shirt was yanked up in the back and his legs slipped out from under him. He was dangling by his collar, his cheeks and chin fat pushed forward so he looked like some sort of sumo wrestler. His eyes wide with surprise, he waved his arms and scrabbled his legs, trying to get footing.

Remember in Home Alone when the robbers hang Macaulay Culkin on the back of the door? That is what Dillon looked like.

(Please note that Daniel is still holding the rocking chair down.)

Needless to say, I rescued Dillon, soothed the smooshed kids under his feet, and evenly distributed Cheerios to all injured parties. I changed four diapers, dutifully took Miss Priss to the potty, and packed up diaper bags.

When twelve o'clock rolled around, I eagerly passed the babies to their families. At this time, Daniel stood up and started putting toys away.

When everyone was gone, we gathered Dillon and all of his accessories, and headed home.

At this time, Daniel found it appropriate to say "Whew! I'm glad that's over. I HATE nursery duty!"

Riiiight.

Obese???

You have GOT to be kidding me.

Quick conversion

I have a friend who loves the smell of bleach. When she cleans her house, it is with bleach, and lots of it. I've always thought it was just something she did cause she is a nurse. She needs to smell bleach to believe that things are really clean. Me? I like some Pine-Sol, or Fantastik. The regular bathroom scrubby bubble guys work well for me.

Until last night. Last night, I joined her club.

My friend has four boys. They are rowdy, outside kinds of boys. I am sure that in her nine years of being a mom, she has dealt with her share of sick kids.

Last night was my turn.

Let me spare you the details, but here are some things I learned:

1) If a child says "nonono!" when you ask if he is hungry, he is not lying.

2) You should always wrap yourself in trash bags when dealing with kids, just in case they spew.

3) As soon as a sick child is bathed and dressed, they will spew again.

4) The Smell lingers.

5) A sick child does not need to be rocked. This will lead to round number two (or three or four).


After Dillon fell asleep, I was left with a bathtub full of clothes and towels, carpet to clean, tile to scrub, and The Smell on my hands, lap, EVERYWHERE.

But I found a solution. I pulled out my bottle of bleach, and used up the whole thing. My hands smelled gloriously Clorox-ish. I almost swabbed the inside of my nostrils with a q-tip of bleach, just to experience the olfactory relief. But I had to draw the line somewhere.

Anyway, if my friend came by today, she would know that I was a convert to her school of thought. Bleach permeates the air. It is glorious.

Yankee should make a candle like this for mamas.

Late night conversation

"Woah!"

"WOAH!!!"

"Papa? Dadeeee! Ayoo okay?"

"Woah! Woah!!!"

This cheerful chatter penetrates my brain at about two o'clock this morning. What is he doing awake???? ARG!

I lay still for a minute, waiting for the monitor to light up the room as he wails. But he doesn't.

"Lala. ELMO! Hahaha!"

"WOAH!!! Ayoo okay?"

"Wizzy moo? MMMMMOOO!"

"Papa! Papa! Papa! Ayoo okay?"

I get up to check the video monitor in the computer room. When I turn it on, I am treated to a sickening display of the inside of his crib - around and around. He has the camera in his hand. He is slinging it against the bars of the crib. He is tossing it and shouting "Woah!!!" and then asking it "Ayoo okay?" He is laughing hysterically at his new toy.

He chatters like this for an hour. I keep anticipating a distressed holler, but I don't get it. He surely drifts off to sleep, as do I, eventually. After laughing into my pillow at this silly, funny, hilarious boy that is my son.

A night alone

Last night, Daniel went fishing with a friend. This is one of those wonderful things that happens where he gets to do what he wants, but really, I get the better end of the deal! We put Dillon to bed and straightened up the house. He chatted with me for a minute while I fixed a quick dinner, and then he left. At 8 o'clock!

I had a whole evening of freedom!

I decided to spend some time reading and then go to bed early. Doesn't that sound better than anything else???

I started some bath water, and picked a new book to read. I sat down to check my email "one last time before bed" then surfed around on the web for a little bit. I found some hilarious videos on YouTube. I read some reviews of some new camera equipment I want. I scanned Google Images for some pictures that I need for school. Finally, after the Internet had whittled away half of my "free time," I got up to get ready for bed.

The house felt humid, so I stopped by to check the thermostat. I reached up to touch the hall lightswitch, and I heard a strange slurping sound. Pausing to listen, I realized that it was coming from the bathroom.

I pushed the door open, and imagine my horror when I realized that my bathwater was within millimeters of the top of the tub, with fresh water pouring from the faucet. The little overflow drain was sucking the water down as quickly as it could, and it could barely keep up. I had let my bathwater run for almost 45 minutes!

Of course the air was humid!

I pulled the plug and started laughing hysterically. Tears streamed down my face as I called Daniel, and I could barely get the words out between huge gulps of air. I am not sure if he saw the humor, but to me, it was the funniest thing EVER!

Wiping tears, I changed into pjs (skipping the bath since there was no hot water to be found) and tucked myself into bed. I also skipped the book, since truth is more entertaining than fiction. I giggled myself to sleep.

And that is how I spent my evening alone!

AI

American Idol rocked the house last night with Bon Jovi. If you didn't watch, you should at least watch the results show tonight to see clips of what you missed!

E-I-E-I-what?

Dillon is obsessed with farm animals these days. He carries his small plastic cow (MMMoo) and horse (nEEE) with him always - to the car, to the bathtub, into his crib, outside to the swing, to his highchair... you get the picture.

If at anytime he is seperated from the two, he spends those moments in sheer panic, saying "MMMoo!" and "nEEE!" as quickly as he can, while still getting the appropriate emphasis on the actual animal sound. (He wouldn't want to call them simply "moo" and "nee!" Gosh!)

Daniel and I were talking about how funny/annoying this is. (Funny because of the extreme to which he has taken this obsession. Annoying because we live in fear of losing one of the two plastic farm animals and having to replace them by buying the complete John Deere Tractor set again, at the cost of $23.99.) Anyway, so we were discussing this obsession, and this is what Daniel says:

"I don't know why he says 'nEEE' like that. Who taught him that?"

Me: "I dunno. School? Or maybe I said 'nay' and he just says it different."

D: "'Nay?' That isn't even what a horse says! A horse sounds like this: 'heeeeh! heeeeh!'"

Me: "What? Are you serious?"

D: "Yeah! Well, it is something like that. Closer to 'heeeeh' than 'nay!'"

Me: "Um, whatever. Which of the two of us taught pre-k? Me! So I know what I am talking about cause I essentially taught animal sounds and 'Old MacDonald' for a living for three years!"

Silence.

Did I just reduce my previous teaching experience to THAT???

Whatever. As long as I win! A horse says "nay!"