Potty Time

For the last few weeks Bug has been doing this squat move after taking her evening bath.  Sometimes, she'll squat and pee on the floor.  So today I bought her a potty.  I set it up in the bathroom and told her that it was for pee-pee.  She seemed VERY excited about it and kept climbing on and off of it exclaiming, "PEE PEE".  After her bath she ran over to it, sat down, and peed.  Clearly proud of herself we clapped together, "YAY, PEE PEE".  It was so cute.  I don't think we are exactly at potty training yet because she is only two days shy of 15 months old but I guess she is moving in that direction and by the looks of it will be potty trained long before she is weaned.

Out of the Mouths of Babes.

Ok, this one is for Existential Waitress, because she loves this story. 

The year is 1973.  The month, December.  I have just been born (Yes, that is right. I am that old).  My Dad takes my brother to see Santa because my mom is at home with me attached to her boob (seems Bug gets her boobaholicism from me).  The Santa event is at the local shopping center.  The one where all the uptight suburban moms take their kids.  The kids of these moms dociliy wait in single file line while their moms fidget with their "do's" and chit-chat about wallpaper.  Ah, the 70's.  Good Times. 

My dad does not fit in to this line.  Not at all.  My dad looks like a thug.  My dad is NOT a thug but he looks like one because he is an undercover federal agent and it is the 70's so his hair is a long curly wigged out mass of black hot mess and he has a looong beard accompanied by a moustache.  He wears dark shades, a pimped out leather jacket and badass boots.  So, the stick-up-their-butt moms are already obviously uncomfortable with this dude in their pristine line.  But my brother is excited.  He is about two and a half.  He loves trucks.  LOVES trucks.  And he is so excited to ask Santa for a fire engine.  He wants it, wants it bad.  So the line moves along and it is finally my brother's turn and he sits on Santa's lap and the conversation goes something like this:

Santa:  What do you want for Christmas?
Brother: A red fire engine.
Santa: Well, if you are a good boy, you might get one.
Brother: But I want it now!
Santa: Oh no, you have to wait until Christmas.
Brother:  FUCK OFF, Santa!!!

My father high-tailed it out of there, feeling the glares as he left like icey daggers in his back.  I don't think my dad ever did Santa duty again.

Some Things Are Better Left for Teddy Bears, Bunnies, and Dinosaurs

A while ago I wrote about trying to find a Plush Buddha for Bug.  This is the only one I have found.

Doesn't he look like a pedaphile or at the very least a pervy swinger?  Needless to say, we are sticking with our Buddha made of wood. 

I am, however, getting Bug a Barney doll for Christmas.  Say what you will about Barney. I have heard it all.  But frankly, I don't care.  Bug LOVES him and that is all that matters.  I am not buying it for me.  I am buying it for her. 

If It Weren't For the Dogs I'd Never Get a Vacation

I am admittedly a little annoyed that the only reason we are getting a vacation this winter is so that the dogs of the family can meet and play together.  I've given up on my pleas of needing my daughter and myself at the top of the list (above the canines) and I've decided that at least I will get to buy the Buggie lots and lots of winter clothes.  For those of you in cold climates, the idea of having to wrestle your child into a snowsuit probably makes you want to poke your eyes out or at the very least hide under the bed until the first signs of spring.  But having lived for years where it NEVER SNOWS, snow vacations are right up there on the fun list.  And the anticipation of getting to see Bug in these clothes is like waiting for Santa.  I am SOOOOO excited.

Pass Me a Hankie

There are decisions to be made, changes to come.  But I am putting them off.  I am taking out Christmas decorations and I am filling this space with joy.  I am packing away the question marks in the boxes and leaving them out in the garage for a while.  Christmas is coming.

The older I get, the mushier I get.  In fact, I am a full on CHEESEBALL.  I love this Christmas carol and I love me some Mary J. and this rendition brings tears to my eyes. 

Hokey Pokey

These photos were taken this morning. How did my kid get so big? In the last photo, she is doing the Hokey Pokey, part of our morning routine lately.

Where It's At

Antibiotics make poop weird. Bug's poop has this weird candy/medicinal smell. It is runny, verging on diarrhea and is a little more frequent than usual. It has a darker slightly rusty red color to it. So yeah, this is TMI but it is what is on my mind these days. Today is the last day of 10 days on antibiotics and hopefully this ear infection has been killed. If I could kick and punch this infection and scream I HATE YOU at it I would. Bug has had two ear infections, two colds, and bronchiolitus in the last three months. It's sucky to say the least. I think she is on the mend. Excuse me while a pause to knock on wood. So now if these evil molars would just break through and leave us alone we would be all set and ready for Christmas.