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!

He proposed!!!

Today, while I was frantically rushing to get us to Stake Conference on time, Max decided it was finally time to make his intentions known.  He knelt down on one knee, grabbed my hand and said, "Mamma will you marry me?"  I quickly accepted, kissed him and helped him pull on his underwear.  One of my favorite proposals. ever.

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?

Do you ever have those days...

when good people, doing good things, annoy the ever-living crap out of you?  And friendly people make you want to run for cover?  Or when you are just plain ornery and anyone with half a brain and some talent make you feel grumpy?  


Just wondering.  Not that I feel that way...