Friday, August 29

No strings attached
Because it is that time of year, the "what the hell am I doing with my life" season, I have been contemplating making some changes and doing things I've wanted to do but have been too busy/lazy/financially unable to do. One thing that I know I want to do, before I transition from thirtysomething to cougar, is to fulfill my rock 'n' roll dream.

I've been playing guitar for half of my life, but not well. Beginning at age 16, when I got my first acoustic guitar ("Ruthie"), I've always just winged it. And because I never learned the ropes, my guitar chops are still fairly beginnerish.

Since I play by ear, I learned a few basic chords and from there was able to teach myself the chords to my favorite songs. And because my favorite songs traverse a wide range of cheesy to hipster, I have quite a repertoire of cover songs.

I've always wanted to parlay that into some sort of band. I envision myself in an 80s cover band, but there are definitely some 90's and even current day songs that I'd like to include. So my latest dream band would be an ultimate cover band that plays three sets and progresses through the decades. This would, of course, be complete with costume changes.

So today I made an important first step in making my dream a reality. I am going to start guitar lessons. Start from scratch, and learn the basics. Build on what I already know. And see where it takes me.
Separated at birth

Is it just me, or does



Monday, August 25

Big day
This morning, Doodle woke up with a dry diaper. "You want to try and tinkle on the potty?" I asked him.
"Um, no," he said. "Maybe I'll go on Thursday."

Apparently Thursday is the day when it all happens.

Thursday, August 21

Bridging the cultural gap

This is what my blog looks like translated into Spanish. Who knew that "sketch" in Spanish was "sketch!" And that "factor" was "factor!" But in Spanish, you just reverse the two.

Wednesday, August 20

Santa Claus is Comin' to Town, or, Pandora's Box

As I may have mentioned before, Doodle loves his trains. Particularly of the Thomas the Tank Engine variety. We've been using the toy trains as motivation rewards in Doodle's potty training. I have this whole complicated chart system going, in which he earns stickers each time he attempts or succeeds to use the potty. It's been working somewhat well, because he enjoys putting a sticker on the chart, However, he thinks he gets a train for every try, and it just don't work that way.

He also errantly seems to think that anything he asks for, he will get. When he looks through the Thomas the Tank Engine brochure that accompanies any toy purchased, he points out all the toys he wants.

Last night at dinner he was showing us the train set he wanted, and my husband, with all the best intentions in the world, said five words that changed everything: "Maybe Santa will bring it."

When I last checked, it was August. So by my estimation, Christmas is still a loooooong way off. Especially to a toddler who doesn't understand the concept of time and who thinks five minutes is an eternity.

Doodle's eyes brightened. "Yeah! Santa will bring it!" He said. "Santa's coming over tonight!"
"No," we told him, "Santa won't come until winter time, when there's snow on the ground."
"Look!" he responded, pointing out the window. "It's starting to snow!"

At this point I dissolved into giggles and had to excuse myself from the dinner table.

Throughout the rest of dinner, and after dinner while I was cleaning up, Doodle talked incessantly about Santa Claus' impending visit. My husband and I exchanged glances and wondered what kind of Pandora's Box had been opened with the mention of Santa.

"Doodle, I have something to tell you," I tried. "Santa's not coming tonight."
"Nooooo!" he howled. "He is!"

When I began to fill the bath tub with water, Doodle melted down. It became apparent to him that we were proceeding with the normal, pre-bedtime activities, which did not include a visit from Jolly Old Saint Nick. It was the full water works, complete with lashing out in anger at both my husband and I for not allowing Santa to come over. Somehow we distracted him, and we got him bathed, pajamaed, and in bed.

This morning, as I was getting ready for work, Doodle was in an adjacent room, playing with his Thomas trains. He was talking to himself, concocting a train story of some sort. I clearly heard him say, "Well, Santa's coming over on Thursday ..."

Oh boy.

If there's one thing we've learned as parents, it's that Doodle forgets NOTHING. By hook or by crook, Santa will bring him the train set he wants. Because Daddy said he would. Maybe.

Monday, August 18

Goings on
Boat Day was slightly disappointing in that everyone, and I mean EVERYONE, was on their best behavior. IBL was subdued, Bad Lady was surprisingly gung ho and wanted to stay out longer in the boat rather than go home early. Color me shocked! The other cuckoo did not wear a life vest, thankfully.

In Doodle news, over the weekend, he began to show interest in using the potty. This has been a constant struggle for months. We had given up asking him about it because he would become hostile when asked if he wanted to use it. Everything has to be his idea. So we let it become his idea. This weekend, while we were at a wedding (a wedding in which my husband became horribly drunk and consequently slept in our bathroom), Doodle went tinkle TWICE on the potty. The next day he pooped on the potty at home. Hooray!

I'm probably due to spruce this site up with some pics, so those will be coming soon, I sorta promise.

Tuesday, August 12

Barack Roll

A little bonus posting action for you all since it's been a while. This nearly made me cry, made me say goodbye, made me tell a lie. It's really only funny if you know what a Rick Roll is, so google that and then help yourself to this one...

Just Sit Right Back And You'll Hear a Tale ...

A tale that will involve me and my co-irkers on a boat. For an entire day. On Friday. Let's take a look at some of the players:

IBL, who is rumored to have a fear of water;
Bad Lady, who is surprisingly upbeat about this trip (it's a day away from the office, so, it can't be THAT bad, right?)
and someone I don't have a nickname for but who is missing a few screws and who has bought her own life jacket to take on the trip and had to be talked out of buying a wet suit.
Dwight Schrute could board the vessel and I wouldn't flinch.