jeopardy .

In the car Mason and I talk. A lot. This week I wanted to "quiz" him and see what answers he came up with for some of my important and then not so important questions. I'd have to give him a C. His answers were funny and the laughing that took place was well deserved on his part. He is such a riot and I seriously don't know where he comes up with half of the things that slip out of his mouth. He speaks the truth, well his truth.

Me: "If someone hits you what do you do?"
Mason: "Hit 'em right back. But harder 'den they hit you. Right Mommy? Das what you do? I push 'em hard until they fall. Just like when I push Max."

WRONG.

Me: "If a stranger says to come with them do you go?"
Mason: "Yes. Wait. Do I? Hmm. Maybe I stay wif my teachers."
Me: "Honey, do you know what a stranger is?"
Mason: "Yes. A kind of tiger."
Me: "Mm good guess, but it is not a tiger."
Mason: "I don't know. But I am going wif dem never. Rwight?"

Right. We'll work more on the stranger danger later. For now, I think Max has it covered. Because, Mr. Stranger look at him, I dare you, he will lose his shit. I dare you.

Me: "Next, question. Do we eat candy before bed?"
Mason: "No because you should be reading your books and candy makes your hands sticky and sticky hands make mommy mad and books makes you nice and I should be reading" (All said in 30 seconds, with no breathing in between words. Hello run on sentence of the century).
Pause.
Mason (again): "And no candy before dinner either. Because you will get SICK. That's what Yo Gabba Gabba told me, too much candy will make you sick. Focus mommy".


Right. But you forgot to mention the cavity factor or that eating chocolate five minutes (or five hours) before bed will have you HOPPED UP on sugar and the goal of this bedtime fantasy I speak of is SLEEP. For all of us. That's why I call it a fantasy. And I am so glad to know that everything I tell you to teach you is going directly out the other ear, but please continue listening to Yo Gabba Gabba, I am sure he is a wealth of knowledge.

Me: "What are 'your manners'?"
Mason: "Yes man (ma'am), thanks for some juice, Thanks, Welcome, K? Oh and fanks for asking me dat question Mommy but I'm all done with your game because I don't know anymore and I'm done talking now".

Well thank you for using your manners.

Me: "Just one more question please!"
Mason: "(sigh) Okay Mommy, just one more."
Me: "Who's birthday is coming up!?"
Mason: "Max, but not me. Because I just had my birfday. Now I'm free. And then I'll be 4,5,6,7,8,9 and 10."
Me: "Is Max getting a cake?"
Mason: "Yup a dinosaur cake because I wike those."Me: "But you already had your cake at your birthday. When you were three, remember?"
Mason: "Yes I remember. But itI still like them even though it is not my birfday. And he doesn't know his words, DATS WHY HE CRIES (said very loudly to make sure I got it). So I'm picking for him and I picked a dinosaur cake. Okay?!"

Because that all totally makes sense. Were going to have one pissed off dinosaur lover when the June bash rolls around and there is no myriad of dinosaur figurines atop the birthday cake. Sorry Mason sometimes you don't always get whatcha' want, or something like that.

And because I'm super sneaky I snuck in another question under Mason's super "No thank you I'm done talking" radar.Me: "When Mommy is driving can she use her cell phone?"
Mason: Very firmly spoken. "NO. because you cannot see if you are on the phone. Remember, always be careful on the road, don't hit any people or roads or trees and stuff because you will get hurt and go to timeout. And Daddy will NOT buy you another car. Okay?"

Because I can see out of my ears right? I am magical like that. Almost like a witch.
And there you have Jeopardy ala Mason. It appears that my child would go with a stranger, if they let him watch Yo Gabba Gabba and eat candy before bed time, but hey, at least, he'd say please. Raw and unedited, straight from the mouth of babes. I'll file this as a mini-Masonism.

monday musings.

Mondays happen to be my least favorite day. I mean rightfully, right? Who wants to face reality after a weekend full of sunshine and fun. Not me. Mondays are not my friend. I want to petition that Mondays be a weekly holiday, an extension of a fun-filled weekend, but I'm assuming that will only make me dislike Tuesdays and I love Tuesdays, they are my calm after the storm. The Monday thunderstorm that is. I have time for Monday musings, which is random awesomeness I've concluded during this Monday.

• Happy hour is just as fun when it's at a park, post afternoon nap, with apple juice & goldfish. And the company is way better than anyone your bound to meet at a real happy hour location. Unless it's your super cool sisters or husband, in which case the company is superb.
• Dave Matthews Band does not drown out a pissed tantrumming toddler. Nor does Norah Jones, Train or The Script. No matter how much you turn the volume dial, you are going to lose. Your children can scream LOUDER. Lose.
• Traveling without benedryl but with two small children is probably not something Einstein would do. But hey, I'm not Einstein. Flight 494, back in March would probably concur.
• Raisins do not digest and Lucky Charms color Pampers not just the rainbow. Fabulous and too much information all in one sentence.
• The easter bunny is more frightening than a hockey masked fugitive.
• Baby wipes are the best mop and shower I've had access to in over a week year. And you should never pay the extra 2 bucks for brand name wipes. In case you wanted my buying advice.
• It is best to be friends with people who have children when you do. Because when you child is losing his/her shit with the fit of the century, you can rest assured theirs just did five minutes prior or will in the next five minutes. When said fit ensues, you can then whisper to yourself "Thank God it's not my kid again" and be glad people still hang out with you.
• Keep reminding your toddler that their baby brother is their pet and you will not be getting a puppy or a ferret or a killer whale for the next overly commercialized holiday or probably, ever.

Those are my Monday musings. You should take notes, because even though I don't play an expert on TV, I'm one in real life. My husband is in the process of throwing away his Encyclopedias as we speak. He married the wealth of all knowledge. Monday is for musings. I will not be held responsible for your actions based on my expert advice above. Can I get a drink?

m is for.

M is for mischievous.
A is for adventurous. Animated. Amazing.
S is for sly. Super sly. Special.
O is for outgoing.
N is for nosy. Nimble.
M is for mellow.
A is for alert. Amusing. Adorable.
X is for eXtraordinary.
I is for innocent.
M is for messy. Mysterious. Meddler.
O is for observant. Opportunistic.
M is for Marci, me, mother. Mason and Max made me a mother. And they are mine.

oh mickey shirt.

Mason's been fully potty trained (well daytime fully) for about 6 months now. I feel super lucky he was fairly easy to train. fairly easy as in i gave him a deadline ("when we get home from Boston..") and told him after that he could kiss his diapers good-bye. He was ready. He did it quickly and with no fight. In fact, I'm going to brag for a second and admit he only had two accidents and four days later he was totally in big boy undies.

At school he uses the potty and has yet to be sent home in his spare clothing set I sent in for accidents. The other day I was picking him up from school and was about fifteen minutes early, so they were still in their classes playing. I peeked in to see if I could just watch him interacting and see what he was doing, but I couldn't spot the grey tee I'd sent him in that AM. I kept scanning the room and even stepped back in the hall to make sure I was at the right room. I was. Double take, I found his black and white samba's and noticed he was head to toe in royal blue. I sent him to school in a cute grey shirt with a nice pair of khaki cargo shorts and they were sending him home a Smurf. It was then I realized I'd taken his extra set of clothes out of his backpack that weekend to pack a "diaper bag" for the car and never stuck the clothing back in. Poor Mason had to wear some random outfit the teachers had stuffed away in their "extras" closet. Based on the overall color fading and tightness of the shorts I'm guessing they weren't even from the 3's class he's in but probably a size 18 months. Mommy fail.

His teacher explained he had an accident during their nap, yet he hadn't even slept. Joy. Peed his pants AND skipped a nap. But that didn't even bother me...I mean all kids have accidents, I'd been extremely lucky to have been unscathed to this point with no soaked underoos on a weekly basis. I was counting my lucky stars that this was the one time it'd happened and I wasn't mid Target run. But what bothered me was this tacky little outfit they'd squeezed him in to instead. I know how incredibly shallow it sounds, but it's the truth. I rushed him out of that class to the parking lot quicker than we've moved, well ever. I didn't want someone to think I'd chosen that outfit for him...it wasn't the "Oh how cute your toddler picked rain boots and a Halloween costume this morning" style, it was "Wow that lady needs to invest in clothes that fit her kid and aren't Smurf like". Shallow. Fail.

Once we'd successfully escaped the school grounds and were hidden deep in our SUV, I turned around and cracked up at just the sight of him. He was so proud of his ensemble. I asked him what happened to his nice shorts and he nonchalantly explained "I peed my pants, k mommy? It's okay, I'm still a big boy". I reassured him that he was still a very big boy and that we all have accidents. Again, the accident was the least of my worries. I said "Who's clothes are those?" He had no clue, but he told me he wanted to wear this outfit everyday, because he loved this shirt so much. He kept telling me how awesome he looked and that all the kids wanted to wear his shirt. I started to feel guilty and ridiculous and instead of correcting him with my opinion that the shirt was not so awesome and that he looked like he was wearing jammie shorts and too much blue, I said "Mason you do look awesome". He rightfully said "Because I am awesome Mommy. Oh this Mickey shirt makes me so awesome". Awesome people. Ridiculously awesome.
And if that isn't the best blackmail picture for prom night, I don't want to see what is.

fruit loop tyrant.

Main entry: ty-rant.

Pronunciation: \ˈtī-rənt\

Function: noun

Definition: an absolute ruler unrestrained by law; a ruler who exercises absolute power oppressively.

This morning I had a little battle of the wills with my always sweet, almost ten month old ball of sunshine (and stubbornness). This kid will not eat if he cannot feed himself. He has now successfully mastered the graceful pincher grasp way of eating and moved on to fist full shoveling manner of cavemen dining. First of all I should have known better with all my motherly wisdom than to offer sugared rings of greatness, often referred to by the general population as Fruit Loops, before offering eggs...or cantaloupe...or peach slush (or puree, whatever you call it).Max was absolutely pissed when I took away the rest of the loops away to offer him something, hmm, oh I don't know...nutritious, slightly balanced and not part of his complete breakfast. Totally unrestrained by law, I had no say as he shrieked unpleasantly and upset the general population's (Mason) peaceful breakfast, causing more rage. All my egg bribing success was shot when Mason saw Max win what I like to call, mom-gives-in-if-I-just-keep-screeching battle. Total uprising at 8:00 in our house this AM. My children overthrew the communist leader, they often refer to as Mommy. The new leader was a hit, leading his first successful breakfast type strike. The leader was Maximo, my little fruit loop tyrant.He ruled oppressively with absolute power.
You better believe the whole house dined on Fruit Loops for breakfast. Happily ever after.

a year.

You know how people always say "What a difference a whole year makes". Well, it's true. A year makes a big difference. I mean here's proof.

On another note...last Easter we had one basket full of goodies on our kitchen table. This year we had TWO. Obviously the last year has been full of changes for us. I mean considering a year ago, we were a family of 3, Mason was just two and barely verbal (yeah, 3 is very different), I was very pregnant, we didn't even know Mr. Max yet; hell we didn't even know his name was going to Max! Like I said, full of changes. I think we've had a pretty damn good year. It's been busy and crazy and it's quite a difference from where we were a year ago. But it's been a year of great changes and we've all adjusted wonderfully. Maximo is the biggest difference and the best change of all (obviously right?). It's so hard to believe that last Easter he wasn't raiding Mason's basket and breaking his eggs in half, trying to steal and quickly inhale M&M minis before someone snatched them from him; you know just wreacking havoc of sorts. I can't even begin to fathom our lives without him. Life is a lot less calm a year later, a lot more different, but a lot more fun. Busier? yes. Worth it? hell yes.

Change isn't always bad. This change, over the last year, was totally awesome change. I don't even like change either, in fact change genereally stresses me out, makes me grouchy and unpleasant to be around. I like change to be minimal, but I am pleasantly surprised with how much change we survived and thrived through from last Easter until now. We did it together. We gracefully conquered the challenges and changes, together, the four of us.

Sometimes I try to think of where we'll be in a year? Hopefully we'll have our preschooler in his own bed... Hopefully I'll be graduated and a little less busy, (I'm obviously disregarding the little fact I'll have a 1.5 year old, you know that phase where your constantly busy on mom patrol) and most importantly hopefully we'll be as happy as we are this April. Regardless of where we are, where we're going and where we'll land in a year, we will adjust, it'll be busy and awesome, and totally worth it. And it will be different from this year. That's what makes life so exciting, you really don't know where you'll be (and sometimes who you will be) 365 days from now, so much can change and ineveitably it does. A year makes a difference.

plenty of fish.

So sure, there are plenty of fish in the sea...but I've already caught some of all of the best ones. Three perfect fish for me. :)