Conversations with Max

Max:  When I grow up I'm going to marry you.

Me:  What about Dad?

Max: I'll get Dad a ring and go to work with him.

Me: What do Dad's do exactly?

Max:  They go to work.  Haven't you noticed?


He also wants to change his name to Robert because that's the name Dad's have.

Birthday Wishes

Max just told me for his birthday he wants an Ipad:  "weally, weally, badly Mom with Angry Birds and Pants and Ombies and Ankon Games and Iron Man."  Awesome.

What do you think?  Should I get one for him?  :)

Sunday and potty words.

Max still can't get over his potty word problem.  I've told him that he is only suppose to say poop in the bathroom.  Today, during Sacrament meeting, Max announced with urgency that he had to go.  We headed into the only empty stall and then he proceeded to loudly talk about what he was doing:

Max:  Mom, I'm sitting on the potty and pointing my wee down.  My poo is coming, Mom.  My poo is coming.
Me: (Quietly) Max, I am here.  I can see what is happening.  We don't need to talk about it.
Max:  Mom, I can say POO in the bathroom!  My poo doesn't want to come out.
Me: Max!  SHHHHH!
Max:  Mom, I pooped.  IT'S DROWNING!  MY POO IS DROWNING!!!
Me:  Max, it's okay.  This is what is suppose to happen, remember?
Max:  Oh, Yeah.  Hey, MOM  I have more POO!
Me: SHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!
Max: (Oblivious to my embarrassment and having a great time) I have 4 POOS, Mom!  See.  1...2...3...4... Look, they are little!  They are brown and round.
Me: (Peeking out the crack in the stall to see if I can leave without being seen.)  Okay, time to go wash our hands.
Max:  I pooped!  Mom, I can say Poop in the bathroom!
Me: (sigh) Yes, you certainly can!


Out of the mouth of babes:

Max:  I don't kick or punch, I just wack things.

One little Piggy...

Max: Mommy, Mommy...Daddy has a PIG as a backpack.  A pig as a backpack!

What I did today...

1.  I just spent the last 20 minutes deleting 134 videos/photos of myself shopping at Target.  If only they were all this flattering:

2.  Saying goodbye to some fantastic teachers and realizing that I have FOUR children not just the one and they will ALL be HOME ALL SUMMER!

3.  Woke up this morning and ate this:

5. Pinched myself for being such a lucky girl because last night I stayed here:

5.  And met him:

(Besties)

6.  Lied to my husband about posting this picture:

7. And this one:

8. Made excuses.  Like this one:  We spent the night at the Mirage celebrating our 14th wedding anniversary a little early.  Robert had one of those rare work hook-ups and was able to get us fantastic seats to the 5th Anniversary performance of The Beatles' Love.  It was all kinds of awesome.  Paul McCartney and Yoko Ono along with some of their progeny were there.  Robert refused to let me take pictures on my iphone even though I promised to be discrete. :(   But I digress, I do really try and be honest at all times but Robert was refusing to have his picture taken commemerating our 14th wedding anniversary celebration.  Why, you ask would a man married for 14 years refuse to let his wife take a picture of him?  Let me quote him: "Only if you promise not to post it on your blog."  What good is a picture that you can't post on your blog????  Seriously.  So then he asks me if I intended to post the pictures I am snapping of the room.  I replied, "Why, yes, I certainly do!"   He might of accused ME of wanting to brag to my friends!

So, I hope you don't take this as bragging and if you do then I should probably say that most nights I am home dipping my scrub brush in a bucket full of ammonia and scrubbing the pee off the bathroom floor because my boys' couldn't aim if their lives depended on it.  And if that still doesn't make you feel better than this should:

ARGHH.  Look at my hUGE  rear.  You can thank Max and his photography skills for keeping me in check.

The End.  Literally.

Max's Preschool Graduation!

I'm pretty amazing.  At least, that's what Mom says.  

Mommy and the proud graduate.

What better time to practice my flexibility than in the middle of my graduation ceremony?

A solemn occasion.

Hopefully, he'll put his bachelor's degree to better use.  

Max's favorite preschool activity

What Max wants to be when he grows up.  

Compliments--Max style.

"Mama, I like your eyeballs.  I like your wing (ring). You pretty." --To me.

"Hey, I like that guy."--After seeing a picture of Grandpa on the computer.

Overheard by a friend at church while I was out of town.  He was being babysat by his Aunt and Uncle:

"Hey, I got a new Mom."--to anyone who would listen.

"Where's Robert?  I love (sounds like lub) him."--When noticing his Dad was gone.

 Max can photo booth himself (this is his own work pictured above), run Netflicks, the TV, DVD player, Wii, and X-box and change the screen saver on my computer as well as find his favorite websites in the History tab.  You would think it wouldn't be difficult to teach the kid how to clean up his messes and make his bed--it's not like it's computer science or anything.

Blogging Hiatus

I've been in a blogging bog.  I have not been able to motivate myself to turn on the computer, down load the photos, think of something to say, type the words and create a post.  Much more interesting and easy, I might add, to read all of yours.  Still, I claim when I need to justify my piece of cyber-world that this blog is my family journal.  I've been known to even spout in self-righteous overtones that it counts as my journal and I can cross that to-do off my list.  Still my life isn't as shiny or photographed as beautifully as other blogs--and gosh darn it those lives are attractive, interesting and distracting.  Sometimes it is just more fun to read about what YOU do or what YOU made or what tantrum YOUR kid threw.  Nevertheless, my alter-ego, Mrs. Guilt-o-maniac has intervened in my unconscious or at least unintentional blogging strike and I am ready to begin anew.  Or at least start and stop several times and be wholly inconsistent...

We had some crazy hair days.  Or a sneak peek at how my children may look in 3-10 years during a rebellious phase.

We had some crazy food for April 1st.  This is a cake or rather  Bisquick, pepperoni & sausage, red-sauce-filling with mozzarella cheese on top.

I'm afraid this is more acting than true consternation but still a good part of the fun.

Green cookies for dessert--the trick was they were actually good!

These were my own April Fool's joke.  They were suppose to be hot dog cookies.  I ask you, do they look like hot dogs to you?  Yeah, I had to improvise with the green cookies.  Kind of disappointing.  

Jello juice.  Max was the only one kind of tricked.  He couldn't figure out why his "juice" wouldn't come up the straw and he was thirsty.  And it wasn't a laughing matter.

Next year Kate, that expression is going to be real!   It's on!

Another one bites the dust...

Or could also be titled:  I thought we were over this Max!

Toilets: The common denominator

Toilet #1--Inappropriate use
Does anyone else's Husband sing songs about B.M. in the toilet?  Just wondering.  Anyway, on a totally different point.  I consider myself a fairly nice, non-judgemental person--with the notable exception of the lady today in the gym bathroom doing inappropriate stretching.  I did judge her. (Who stretches in the bathroom?  We are at the GYM for goodness sakes.  They have mats and stuff for that.  Also, if you can't do it on a  public mat, you shouldn't do it in the public bathroom.)  Seriously though, I try hard not to judge people and make snap decisions about them.  I like to give them a chance.


Toilet#2--Feeling like one
The two people who read my blog, might remember a post I made a few posts back about a woman, her boobs and her brand-spanking new intimate hardware, ahem.  I would include a link to the afore mentioned post but I am to embarrassed and also very lazy.  Yesterday, while Max was improving his speech, I was reminded of what a shit I can be.  I had a nice conversation with the lady, let's call her Madame M.  Anyway, Madame M is lonely, has learning disabilities and was crying about how bad she feels that her son can't speak.  And the cherry on top, (TA DA) this lonely woman is my NEIGHBOR.  I really wanted to crawl under my chair and hide.  I felt like I was back in High School with zits and toilet paper attached to my shoe.  In my thirty-odd years, I still haven't learned anything.  I invited her to book club and I will no longer hide behind a book during Max's speech therapy.


Toilet#3- Breaking
A couple days ago, I was bragging to my cute SIL about how Max takes himself to the bathroom.  Well, this is what can happen when you leave your 3 year-old alone in the bathroom:  

(Let's not even talk about the aiming issues!)








Toilet #4--Missing 

My heart is literally breaking for this sweet kid.   Jackson is reading a book to Max in this picture.  He is also having his own potty issues of which he is so embarrassed he can't look me in the face to tell me about them.  In fact, he stands behind me so I can't see him.  It is starting to affect him at school and he is feeling ostracized by his classmates and friends.  He cried.  I don't know what to do.  I am trying to help him solve the problem but it is tough.  It hurts me.  It really, really does.





And to echo my Husband's favorite potty song: "BM in the TOILET!!"

I don't hit.

Max says, "Type my name!"  I oblige.  Max also says, "I not happy (if) you eat me."  I don't eat him.  Max says looking at the computer screen, "Two my name, you want you name Mom?"  I do.

Yesterday:

Max: People like me.  I don't hit (pronounced: heeeeet.  Like a Latino. In fact, I often wonder if he would have any speech issues if we lived in Mexico, spoke Spanish and drizzled Dulce de leche on everything we ate. Yum.)

He proceeded to prove how much everyone "liked" him by waving at every alpha-male with facial hair, bulging muscles and a skeleton tattoo in our vicinity.  Okay, they weren't all skulls and crossbones.  These men were scary though.   I certainly wanted to remain anonymous and had they looked at me the wrong way, I would have tossed my purse in their direction and ran.   But I think he may be right.  Do you know that everyone of those hard-looking men smiled sweetly and waved back?   Amazing.


I like my conversations with Max.  Sometimes they are the best ones I have all day.

And, no, I don't wash his face or comb his hair. What would be the point?

A post about Max

"Mom,  I wanna bog about ME." (While watching my write the previous post about Kate.)

E:  Okay.  What's your favorite food?
M: Haw Dog
E: What else do you want me to write about you?
M: Um....Poopy. (Big grin and runs off.)


And that's the end of the post about Max.

Brag, Brag, Braggy, Brag, Braggerama.

Introducing the U10 Girls Soccer Division 2nd Place Champions!

Kate, Ella and Kidshine friends pose with Ms. Robin.

Never leave home with out it.

Max threw a huge tantrum today.  He decided that he wanted a cracker as soon as I had all four kids buckled in the car (for the fourth time before noon, I might add) and I refused to go and get him one.  We were on a short jaunt to pick up a couple of playmates for the girls and I knew he could last.  The plan was to turn on the video and let him tune out for a few minutes.  Apparently the cracker was more important to him than I realized.  He screamed, cried, kicked the seat, wiped snot on my newly cleaned car all the while screaming his mantra, "I want a cracker!! I want a CRACKER!"  Over and over.  There was no reasoning with him.  The kid wanted his cracker.  But as I explained, I cannot produce something that I do not have.  This made no sense to him.  He felt strongly that if he screamed loud enough I would somehow acquire the power to rearrange molecules and produce a cracker for him.  Believe me, by the time the 20 minute drive was over, I was wishing that I could.  Anyway, he got his cracker as soon as we got home.  He calmed right down and thanked me politely.

A few hours later, we were in the car again driving to soccer practice.  After a few minutes, Max thoughtfully piped up, "Momma, I no want a cracker."

Well, thank GOODNESS for that!

This is how we roll:

I really wanted to post this other picture of Max helping but it showed how Robert likes to dress when he helps around the house.  Let's just say it's a similar look.  

We like to nap on the couch after a hard day of work in our underwear but we wear our pants for that.  

Happy 3rd Birthday, Bob Do-do a.k.a Max.

I love this boy.