Guess how awesome I am???
I am 10, awesome.
Because for the 3rd time in my adult life, I am living in a relative's basement.
First, Jared's Dad in Ohio - for 1 1/2 long years,
Second, at Jared's grandparent's California house for a short 4 months,
And now we are crashing in my own parent's basement in Utah.
We have the whole basement to ourselves. 4 bedrooms, 2 1/2 baths, mini kitchen, etc.
The view isn't bad either.
Plus, my parents have cable TV, which is why I blog less.
We are thinking of doing a less-violent version of Custer's Last Stand, and living here until my parents forcibly remove us.
Oh yeah, deers eat out of your hand here. Maybe I'm an 11 on the scale of awesome???
Before we moved from California, Jared had accepted a job here, but promptly quit it because it was crappy.
Our first week here he got a couple of other offers. But since we love living in basements so much, he declined the offers and waited to hear back for a better offer.
He got the job he wanted (over 3 weeks and a trip to Cleveland later). We bought a house, but have a 60 day escrow. Which means my parents get 60 more bliss-filled day with my and my titty monkeys (Jared included.)
A couple weeks ago, my parents left on a little vacation and left me to my own vices (I meant to type "devices" but the more accurate typo stays).
Before they left, I told my mom that Jared and I were going to have sex in every room in the house. She said "too late." ew.
Don't moms know its funnier when their kids gross them out and not the other way around????? I guess this shred of human decency has no place in my family tree.
Instead of tainting every room in my parent's house, Jared suggested I "put something sexy on".
I looked in the family's costume closet instead and found this(!!!!!!!!!!!!):
Who knew I could look so hot as a Utah sister-wife?
Jared was not as amused as I was, and refused to call me "Sister Emily".
Note: While I have deep respect for religious freedom and individual's agency, I reserve the right to make fun of clothing and awesome hairstyles as I see fit.
Saturday, October 25, 2014
Monday, October 6, 2014
I started potty training my 3 year old, Ryan, a couple of weeks after Titty Monkey was born in March. No, he is still not potty-trained and yes, we started almost 6 months ago.
I began with the "chill parent"/lazy-as-crap approach, which means I bought him Pull-Ups and every few hours I asked him if he wanted to take a dump in the toilet.
He would always answer, "no, Ryan like a poo in his pants..." and then he would happily go squat in a corner somewhere.
I tried other rewards. Candy, toys, trips to the park, watching Netflix and letting him run around naked.... I even let him play with that brown play-dough hoping he would be inspired.
Our most problematic times came when I would want him to try going in the toilet at set intervals. Apparently, little boys do not appreciate being snatched from their toys every 20 min.
Every time I made him go, one of is would end up in tears... and by that I mean HE would end up in tears since I hate crying.
Finally he sort of starting to get the hang of it, but still preferred to convenience of going straight in his pants.
We had a road trip coming up, so I made an executive (read: lazy) parenting decision. Ryan would wear diapers on the trip. I didn't want to mix Ryan's inevitable accidents with his cloth-covered car seat.
Bad Parenting Decision #56845
Fast forward to after the trip.....
He basically wants nothing to do with the toilet.
I know my parenting recorded is not pristine but I really don't need another testament of my crappy mothering skills.
I just really, really, really hate poop.
As for now i'm using the excuse that I can't potty train him until we get settle in a house, and his bowel can move in a consistent environment.
Here is a picture of my diaper-clad kid pretending to be a tortoise. ("Not a turtle, mom!!! I is a tortoise!!!!!!)
Proud moments all around.
P.S. Ryan pooped in the bath last night
P.S.S. If you ever need parenting advice, let me know.