chicken in a jungle

first, a little bit of background. my mom (john's grammie) is famous for her awesomely ridiculous silly videos that she sends for john. grammie is a creative, funny, lady, and her videos reflect that personality.

this was last night's video from grammie:

(i can't seem to make it un-sideways without spending way

more time editing than i have to do that right now. sorry!)

needless to say ... john and i found this utterly hysterical. so after several minutes of pure laughter, we decided to make a video to send back to grammie:

the crazy wiggles in the middle are when john started attacking the phone while i tried to record him. after we recorded the video, we watched it a couple of times, and i'm not going to lie - john and i cackled like hyenas for a good ten minutes.

basically, a good time was had by all.

look out for that chicken in the jungle. he'll get you every time.

Comments

pull up your big boy undies

"what time is it? mommy? what oclock?" john's teacher told me something amazing today. "you should bring me some big boy undies," she said, "i haven't changed john in weeks." it seems that at school, since they check in with him periodically to see if he has to potty, and since his very smart teacher has noticed his (very regular) bowel movement schedule, john is potty trained. at 9am at 2pm, she plops him on the toilet. he might sit for 20 minutes, reading a book. when she checks on him, he says, "i just poo-pooin', miss meka." and when he's done, he's good and done. we're not quite that far along at home, but tonight we go shopping for big boy undies. and i'm sure we'll have a few accidents, but that's just a part of the process ... and soon my little boo will be in big boy undies full time. and ... it's a great time for him to be out of diapers. because good lord willing and the creek ...

this is 38

this is 38. grocery store sushi and cake, 8pm, alone. and for a minute, i let it feel every bit that sad and blue. because honestly, sometimes things feel sad and blue. and one thing i am learning is that i can't deny that sad and blue. i gotta sit with it, feel it, cry a tear or three in my mediocre cake, and just be. this is 38. i am not 100% sure what i expected, but i had high hopes of a lovely birthday evening with my fellas, and instead i picked up the three crankiest angriest bullyingest boys in the universe when i went to the daycare. they were mean to each other and didn't want anything to do with anything i had to say. and instead of enjoying hanging out, we argued and fought and they went to bed unhappy and i sat down for my un-exciting birthday dinner, alone. but another thing i am learning is that routine is my friend. so i started my evening routine, finding my rhythm. a few minutes of sweeping and cleaning. a few minutes of prep for tomorrow, lunch...

on lullabies

i am not a singer. if you've sat behind me in church, you know this to be true. (and i'm sorry.) a musician, yes. a singer no. and yet i find myself singing to john almost nonstop. and the beauty is, he seems to actually like it! (there's no accounting for taste. he also thinks i'm the most beautiful woman in the world. i'm no ogre, but i'm certainly not winning any beauty contests outside of my son's brain!) and actually, i've written some lullabies for john that are pretty nice. and it made me think: did your parents sing to you? do you remember what they sang, and better yet, if you have kids, do you sing the same songs to them? reply in the comments!

john's mom works

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