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Benched

Harrumph. I went to the doctor yesterday because I have a pulled muscle in my neck that caused enough pain to send me to bed for a good portion of Sunday because it literally hurt to hold up my head.

According to my doctor, the stupid pulled muscle in my neck is just a pulled muscle. This is good because...well, because it means it's not something worse. This is bad because I still have no explanation for why this has happened four times in seven months, in exactly the same spot, with exactly the same effect. Next to childbirth, it's the most painful thing I have ever experienced. It's even worse than pregnancy sciatica, but similar in that it's a constant pain that is horrendously distracting, not to mention debilitating. She gave me a muscle relaxer (which I can only take at night) and ordered me not to exercise until it's better.

That's the bad news: Usually this injury takes up to two weeks to heal (for me). So don't hate on me for missing my runs. I'll catch up.

Meh.

The First in a Long Line

Don't like reading about pee and poop? Skip this post. :o)

During The Boy's aforementioned two year checkup, we discussed potty training a little. My current philosophy is (was) that I'd really rather wait until The Boy is closer to 3 than 2, so he'll have better clothing removal skills, balancing atop the toilet skills, etc. But he's shown a TINY bit of interest lately, including wanting to "go pee on the potty" before he takes a bath.

(I can't believe I'm seriously posting about peeing and pooping. Sigh. And YOU'RE READING IT.)

So, upon the recommendation of our pediatrician, we went shopping for a little potty. (Explain to me why the simplest, sturdiest potty at Target also happens to be one of the most expensive? Explain to me why I would ever want a potty to cheer for my child? You pee and poop in it. Disturbing.) He chose the blue one, and it is now the only intentionally gender specific item in my house. Then again, I suppose I did buy the pink cash register, so he's just getting back at me. He also selected a blue water bottle on the same day. Y'all have brainwashed my kid.

I digress.

The first thing he wanted to do at home, naturally, was sit on his potty--which he did. "Do you want to pee in there?" I asked. "Okay." Off with the diaper, onto the potty...and he peed. First try. Tonight before bed I asked if he wanted to pee before putting his nighttime diaper on. "Okay." Off with the diaper, onto the potty...and he peed. And pooped (by accident, I'm pretty sure). And we dumped it in the big potty and flushed--just exactly what they tell you not to do. And he cheered.

So, people, I'm not sure what all the drama is that we're supposed to have. Not that we're "training," mind you. I have no intention of letting go of the diapers for some time, but I guess I was expecting a bigger deal over it. Also, I now have no idea what the next step is. Do we just keep trying to pee/poo more often during the day? Wait for him to ask?

Bring it, moms. Extra points if you have a boy.

Hip to be Square and Other Stories

My kid is square: 35" x 35 lbs. This is according to his two year checkup the other day. He is now in the 85th percentile for height, is predicted to be 6 feet tall by age 18, and is therefore pre-disqualified for the football team. (Right?Pleasepleaseplease.)


There has been a lot of discussion in our house lately on the topic of irrational fear. It goes like this:
Boy: "No bee gonna come in the house and hurt you." (He means himself)
Me: "Nope, you're right."
Boy: "Mommy, no bee gonna come in the house and hurt you and Avery."
Me: "That's right, you're safe. Bees don't usually hurt us at all. And I won't let bees in the house."
Boy: "Mom. Mama. No bee gonna come in the house and hurt you."
You get the idea.
Recently he was taking a bath and explored that fun looking button on the faucet...which turns on the shower. Of course the water that came out was freezing cold and scared the pants off him. So now each bath starts with, "Shower not gonna hurt you."


We had possibly our last day of Indian Summer on Wednesday, and used it to drive to the city to visit the beloved free Lincoln Park Zoo. It brought back lovely memories of our previous visits, including this one. The hit of the day was most certainly the giraffe. ("No giraffe gonna come over the water and over the wall and hurt you.") We visited them three times and were kicking ourselves that we hadn't brought along his little rubber animals (birthday gift from Mimi and Papa) so we could compare and contrast. He corrected the zookeeper that referred to one bathing mass as a Hippo ("Not hippo mommy. HippoPAmus."), and saw three black "Rhymeoferous"es. He narrated 99.99999% of the day's activities, asked me 6,264 questions, and fell asleep 3.2 seconds after takeoff.


1.Grand Dede has a friend he refers to as "Big Don," or sometimes "Big Donald."
2. The Boy has been singing the song, "Old MacDonald" for months. But it never sounds exactly like that, and I've been trying to decipher exactly what he's been saying.
3. Last weekend, The Boy was invited to a Northwestern football game. He told me he would be going with Daddy, Grand Dede and "Old BigDonald."
4. Mystery solved.
(Also, hahahahahahahahahahahahahaha!)