The degradation of my home: Intricate murder plots and the gradual demise of my living room carpet

I was about to go to bed just a bit ago. I told myself, "Alicia, you really need to stop going to bed so late, you are allowing bad habits to form and you need to start changing this pattern into a much more productive schedule, one that includes early bedtimes with early rising in the morning, in order to be as productive as possible during any given day."

...Just kidding. After playing solitaire 576 billion times on my phone, my brain finally started to die and, needing to find something else to do, I decided that sleep was a better option that going back to raid the stash of Halloween candy in the kitchen (for what might possibly be the fifth...or sixth... time tonight). You know, if I chose to look into that last thought more deeply, I'm sure I could pinpoint some of my problems with going to bed at a decent hour. However, I'll just keep blithely blaming "random insomnia" and overlook my own actions that 'might' be to blame.

Holy cow, I have really deviated from the topic that got this sudden creative spurt of musings going. AS I WAS SAYING, I was about to go to bed just a bit ago, when this mouse, out of the blue, just walks right up next to me and starts messing with this piece of paper. At first, I thought, "OMG! I thought that mouse was gone!!" Because we set out TONS of traps to catch it (and by ''we," I mean "ME") and it seemed to just disappear overnight, and we hadn't seen it for a couple of weeks. Sure, this could totally be a different mouse, but the thought of more than one mouse running amuck kind of sets me on edge, so I'm just going to, once again, go with denial. (There's a pattern here, isn't there? It's been a rough, unproductive week, filled with candy hoarding and overconsumption, brain deadening phone games [thanks to my new droid. Guess who, once again, is way behind with the trends?], and pee soaked everything. More on that later.)

Anyway, so my second thought? GAME ON. Instead of being frightened of the mouse, I got weirdly excited. I think this just goes to show how much I HAVEN'T had going on lately, and how I desperately need to get a new hobby... but anyway. I digress. I had rampant imaginings of my stealthy trap set up and subsequent capture of the mouse... (let's call him Frank, so I don't have to keep typing "the mouse.") I pictured myself setting up an intricate  system of traps that would catch Frank within a matter of minutes (because, let's face it, my ADD won't allow me to stay interested for any serious, reasonable amount of time), and I saw myself standing over him, watching as he pathetically squeaked and tried to get away. Laughing maniacally, I would watch as he would gradually realize his back was broken (that's what the site claims they do... I'm not the monster who created these traps!) and then I would walk around him for awhile, just so he could grasp the enormity of all he had lost, just because he chose to break into the wrong house and infect it with his itty bitty grossness. I mean, I'm going to have to toss most of my dry foods, thanks to my OCD when it comes to food germs... *shudder.* Hope you enjoyed that peanut butter, THIEF! Tell me, Frank... was your last meal really worth it???

Long story short, he ran off somewhere (probably to go climb in my bed and spread his grimy infested germs all over my pillow), I lost interest, and decided I needed to tell SOMEONE about this, so that it could still be a little bit more exciting than me just spotting a mouse all by myself, and then trying to catch it with a dollar tree mouse trap (and baiting those things! My gosh! Is there anything more scary than setting a trap and then having to carry it, without tripping or bumping into ANYTHING, to a location that's not easy to reach, and then SETTING IT DOWN without setting it off?? As if sleep wasn't going to be hard enough knowing there is a mouse (if not more * shuddering*) on the loose, now my nerves are shot. Thanks, Frank. I hope, if you get caught after I go to bed, that you don't die until morning so I can lecture you and let you know how much anxiety you caused before you blissfully pass on.) So now you know about my 'exciting' night.

...And before I forget, let me go back to my earlier reference to "pee soaked everything," as I'm sure you are curious as to what that was all about. I think I wrote a previous post about attempting to potty train Levi and how that was (well, wasn't) going. I said something along the lines of, "wouldn't it be ironic if he was potty trained by next week?" Well, guess what, people? HE'S POTTY TRAINED! ...mostly. He still wears a diaper at night, but he rarely goes in it, he can wait until morning, and as soon as he wakes up, he goes and gets his potty seat and goes on the potty by himself! Isn't that AMAZING???

However, we have run into a slight issue, and it's concerning poop. Yep, poop. He goes #2 fine in his potty...but he won't tell me when he's done it. He will brag when he's peed, but apparently, dropping a deuce is a bit more shameful to him. I can understand... who wants someone to walk into a bathroom right after they've gotten done letting loose a stink bomb? But this creates a couple interesting issues. One is obvious---skid marks. Luckily, I'm still immature enough to find it humorous when I come across them, but it gets old quickly. I only have so many pairs of underwear... do you even KNOW how much toddler underwear costs?? It is typically $10 for a four or five pack!! What in the WORLD? It's only going to fit him for a couple weeks!! ...But again, I'm going off track. Onto that second issue... the one that addresses the issue of pee everywhere. You might be thinking, of course, he has accidents. He just got potty trained---but no. Surprisingly, after the first week, he hasn't had any accidents, and it's been amazing! HOWEVER, you know that issue where he won't tell me he's gone poop? Well, that means his potty, which was placed in a further back corner of our living room (he needs privacy!) is just sitting there, full, and I don't know that I need to go dump it out. This shouldn't be an issue, considering it's in the back corner of the living room... until John gets home from his job at night, and Levi goes NUTS. Suddenly super hyper, Levi will run wildly all over the living room, racing in circles and throwing himself onto everything he can find. Due to the clumsiness he inherited from his aforementioned father, he trips over everything, too. Can you see where this is going?

THIS HAS HAPPENED APPROX. FIVE TIMES NOW. I'm not joking. I have become religious about checking to see if there's any 'surprises' left in his potty, now, because I'm so sick of wandering around to get something and suddenly stepping into a squishy puddle of disgustingness that has perfectly blended in with my thick dark tan carpet from a time when Levi has tripped and spilled the contents of his potty while I was in a different room, blissfully unaware. While I am thankful that we don't have to worry too much about stains, I'm not sure the benefits outweigh the grossness.

SO, that's THAT, one of the many reasons this week has not been so great, leading me to stay up to late, binge eating twizzlers, dots, snickers, and tootsie rolls, thus allowing me to witness the fact that Frank has not, in fact, decided he likes the neighbor's place better, but instead is still thriving and practically begging to be viciously murdered in the slowest way possible.

(Just so you know, while I was writing about the potty incidents, Frank appeared by the traps. I put three in an intricate pattern around the bag of oatmeal he was getting into, and added peanut butter AND oatmeal to the traps... and then I waited to get the crap scared out of me by the 'SNAP!'...only it didn't happen. I heard rustling, and then running away. I think he maneuvered around my traps and ate more of that oatmeal, that bastard. Why can other ppl catch mice in traps, but I can't??)

Anyway, it is now ridiculously late, so I'm going to force myself to stop blathering on and just go to bed and pray the sugar coursing through my system will peter out and allow me a bit of sleep so I'm not a total monster in the morning. I will say, hearing the desperate squeak of a trapped mouse will help make my day tomorrow MUCH better... wish me luck! :) 

The dreaded PT is upon us

Potty Training will be the end of me. I’m not even joking. I know I thought weaning Levi off the binky was the Worst Thing Ever, but it has been surpassed, and let me tell you, I’m not over exaggerating or just being overly dramatic (like with that whole binky debacle a year ago… let me tell you, I’m so much more mature and level headed now. I’ve really changed in a year). At the very least, I’m thankful that I can trust my instincts and know when I’m faced with something utterly impossible, which gives me the opportunity to try to come to terms with the sheer undeniability  (that’s a word! Don’t look it up, take my word for it, dang it) of the fact that what I want is just hopelessly unattainable. (Let’s pause for a moment while I pat myself on the back for being able to find a silver lining in even the darkest cloud.)

I KNOW it seems like I’m just being overemotional and making a mountain out of a mole hill (my husband claims I do this often. He’s crazy.), but you don’t know the obstacles I’m faced with. They’re HUGE.

First? I am SO lazy. I probably don’t even need to expound on that. I shouldn’t even write that, but there it is. While I know many moms look forward to the day their toddlers are no longer in diapers, I have never fully understood their reasoning. I can see, on one hand, how diapers are expensive, and MAN does it get old wiping crap off their butts (especially when they don’t tell you they’re poopy and there’s no obvious smell, so by the time you realize they need to be changed, it takes about a half an hour to scrape the dried particles off their bottom while they yell at you for taking a long time. The audacity!). However, I see so many more bonuses to keeping him in a diaper. I don’t have to worry about accidents, stopping frequently on a long trip, or dealing with the horror of a public bathroom (Wal-mart comes to mind…). I don’t have to worry about a wet bed or trying to wake up at crazy hours of the night to take him to the potty to avoid an accident. Diapers are SO STINKING EASY!

Secondly (is that the proper word? Should I have used just ‘second?’ Why does that sound so wrong? Whatever. Oh my gosh.), my patience for things like these aforementioned accidents is nonexistent. I don’t know what it is (perhaps my crazy OCD when it comes to certain kinds of messes), but the thought of Levi getting pee all over his clothes drives me CRAZY! I mean, it won’t just be his clothes, it will also be the floor, or the couch, or his car seat (which is SO HARD to take apart to clean). I know people will say kids don’t do it on purpose (as they have already stated to me), but they are wrong! They haven’t met my kid!

That’s right, we have already tried potty training at least SEVEN TIMES now. I don’t just mean seven days, either. Most of those attempts lasted anywhere from 4-7 days. The first few times, I just realized I was pushing Levi too early, as he clearly wasn’t ready to be potty trained. However, he’s almost 3 ½ now, and he can tell me when he’s already gone potty. His vocabulary is good enough to tell me when he has to go. He can hold it if I ask him to (for church nursery, it was the only way he could get moved to the next class without being potty trained), and if I leave him to run around naked, he won’t have any accidents. The issue arises when I put his underwear on. We tried pull ups and quickly realized they were just glorified diapers. Then we moved up to the ridiculously expensive spider man underwear (we let Levi pick them out as incentive to wear them). I used an approach I found online (I have tried so many different things now), and it worked…for the first day. Levi even pulled down the underwear BY HIMSELF and went on his potty. It was amazing!

Then the second day hit. Levi realized the same thing I’ve always known-going potty on a regular potty is much harder than a diaper. So he decided he wasn’t going to do it anymore. I would sit him on his potty and he would adamantly insist he didn’t have to go—then the second I’d pull his underwear back up, he’d pee. He didn’t care that he wasn’t getting anymore treats, he didn’t care that he was messing up his nice spiderman undies. He didn’t even care that they were wet! I keep reading that if you let them have a few accidents in their underwear, they won’t like the feeling of it and will stop doing it. NOT MY KID! I left him in it after one accident, praying to God for patience because I KNEW he was going to get pee all over (AHHH), and he did NOT STINKING CARE. What am I supposed to do with this??

Now… now, oh my gosh. You would die if you listened to Levi while changing his diaper now. This child is a con artist, I kid you not.  If I can tell he needs a diaper change (he has stopped telling me, I’m assuming because he doesn’t want to go back to the potty training), I tell him to come lie down, and immediately, he starts going: “Lookit that, mommy! I did it! I peed in my diaper! I’m such a big boy!” or “Woah! No way! Guess what, mommy? See how I peed in my diaper?”

Really, kid? Seriously?

I’ve been handling it okay, at least. I don’t blow up at him, I don’t yell at him, and I don’t try to make him feel bad. I don’t want him to see potty training as a scary thing. I just don’t know what to do!

Yes, yes, okay, I DO know that every adult in the world is potty trained (there are exceptions of course), so it will eventually happen… but I don’t want to have to wait until my stubborn child is 5 before he makes that decision. John keeps reminding me the “The Pembertons are all stubborn… my own brother and sister weren’t potty trained until after they were five!” (Can I just say that that makes me want to lock myself in a bathroom with Levi until he is force potty trained?) I know my issue seems ironic, considering how I enjoy the laziness a diaper affords me… however, I’m sick of constant poopy diapers. I can’t enroll him in a daycare until he’s potty trained. And if he has an accident at church, then he gets moved back down to the 2 yr olds, which feels like a slap in the face, because apparently no one else has issues potty training their 3 year old. Also, it’s got to happen sooner or later, and I’d prefer it to be before I have a job, so I can actually devote the necessary amount of time needed to make this happen.

AHHHHH!

Now that I’ve written this and certain people can think to themselves that I’m, once again, being hugely overdramatic (as if that’s EVER true, pssh), Levi will probably potty train himself this next week just to prove me wrong.

That would be so awesome.

Well, it is what it is. Apparently, he’s just not ready yet. Or maybe I waited too long. I don’t know. I wish the same process used to train one kid worked on them all! In the meantime, I will try again (eventually, it’s not happening THIS week at least), and I just ask that if you’ve read this far, that you’d say a quick prayer that my child will suddenly hate diapers and want to go on a potty. I’m not joking!

At the very least, at least he’s given me something to blog about once again. I can only wonder (and shudder) at the thought of what the next big thing will be that will make this look silly… (dun duh daaAAAaaa…)

Changing attitudes

I want to just go ahead and say that I'm really enjoying Levi's third year of life. I am so glad the terrible two's are over!! It is shocking what a difference there is in his attitude and behavior!

Of course, as I type that, I must admit it's not all super fantastic, as he is currently standing behind me, fussing and trashing the living room. BUT I'm just going to ignore that for now. I'd rather deal with that every once in a blue moon instead of CONSTANTLY (ages two to birth...haha. But seriously).

It's also still frustrating at times, but I'm pretty positive that that will never change, no matter how old he gets. I'm just happy that it is now NORMAL to have ENTIRE days where he doesn't cry...not even once!

He's not the only one with a pretty drastic attitude change, either. About a month (or two?) ago, I determined that I was going to find a nearby church and go EVERY. SINGLE. SUNDAY. No more excuses (I don't know anyone, I don't want to go alone, etc..). How am I supposed to teach Levi the importance of making God a priority if I don't? And, for a much less holier endeavor, I really wanted to make some new friends. So I prayed about it constantly for two weeks, and chickened out the first two times I tried going (It is HARD to go to a new church alone!!), but finally sucked it up and went. And guess what? IT WAS HORRIBLE!!!  No one talked to me, no one even smiled, and I felt like a total outcast. BUT, it was the first time Levi EVER willingly walked into a nursery without crying... so I took it as a sign and decided to stay for the sermon. IT WAS AMAZING! Literally, it was one of the best sermons I've ever heard. So I decided I would come back the next Sunday, and I did. I prayed about finding the courage to reach out and try to get people to talk to me, but the next Sunday was exactly the same. It's like the people who attend that church work hard not to notice new people, which is strange, because that church's entire focus is to minister to the south side of South Bend, and I only chose that church because of the flyers they left in my mailbox. I'm curious as to how they plan on keeping the new people they bring in... but I digress. While I debated giving up on that church, I listened to another sermon... and it was just as good as the first! It was exactly what I needed to hear, AGAIN. And I realized something while I was sitting there. While church can be a place for socializing, I was not really there to make friends. I WANTED to, but what I NEEDED was to work on my relationship with God first. Those sermons addressed specific areas of my life that needed serious attention, and as I tried to apply them to my life over the following days, I immediately noticed a difference in my attitude. I was happier, calmer, and making better decisions in my day to day life. It also seemed to directly affect Levi, who also seemed calmer and much better behaved. Of course--so much of his attitude stems from our interactions, and if I am unhappy or stressed, then it directly affects him. I thought making new friends would help me feel better and make me happier, but what I really needed was a stronger relationship with God, and so far, it's going well. I have been back to that church about four times since then, and have finally managed to make friends with a really nice family who sits behind me. I still sit alone, and it is still horribly awkward and uncomfortable walking in and sitting down by myself (after dropping off Levi), but I am definitely learning and growing closer to God. The people in that church aren't there for ME, to make me feel comfortable and to be my friends (even though, I admit, I have secretly hoped the pastor would do a sermon admonishing his church to be nicer to new people, haha). Even that church isn't REALLY for 'me,' it is for GOD. I think I was much too focused on what church could do for ME, and how the people should treat ME, when instead it is about God, to worship Him, and to learn how to become closer with Him. In return, I am totally being blessed, and who knows, maybe when the time is right, I will start making some new friends. I'm just glad that's not my number one focus anymore.  

You know, this is one of those times when I did NOT mean for my writing to go in this direction. I was going to write about some of Levi's funny quirks (and the way he yells "stop hitting me, mommy!!!" when I poke him when he's misbehaving in public. It. Is. Horrifying.!!!) BUT... it is what it is. I'm happy, Levi's happy, and we've found a good church.

(Don't worry, I'll let everyone know about my crazy child's antics later :) But for now, I have to go get ready for a dinner date @ Antonio's with my awesome friend Kristina....YUMMM!)

Dresses, Ducks, and Diarrhea (of the mouth)

It's not even 5 o'clock, yet today has been filled with more up and downs than I'm used to encountering in the span of just one day. It's ironic, as I was just thinking last night that I had not blogged in awhile. Trying to come up with an explanation as to why, I realized that my life has just been pretty boring lately. I mean, yes, we did move... but that's not really fun for me to blog about. Anyway, I had a vague thought that it'd be nice if I could come up with something soon.

So today happened. I thought, in the beginning, that it was going to be just an unusually good day. It was perfectly sunny and warm with enough of a breeze that I wouldn't be pouring sweat out of every pore in my body. (TMI for you?? Well just be glad you don't have to live with it!!!)

I decided that instead of lounging about all day aimlessly (sure, there's dishes that need to be done, but they're not growing mold...yet), I would, once again, try to find a dress for my foster brother's upcoming wedding in July. I've only been to the same stores 30+ times in the past month searching, but I was determined that today would bring about one of two things: a dress, or a drastic diet so that I could wear one of the thirty million dresses I had tried on that were apparently made for girls shaped like a size 0 beanpole.

I FOUND A DRESS! Thanks to a tip from my (fantastically awesome) friend Kristina, I went to JCPenney after going through piles of dresses at Gordman's, Kohl's and Target. (Does anyone else feel super guilty about walking into a changing room carrying a ton of garments, and then carrying them back out and handing every single one to the fitting room attendant? Sometimes I pretend like I'm keeping one so they won't think I'm just trying on things for the heck of it, and then I'll discreetly put it back.) I don't think I've ever seen that large of a selection of dresses, EVER, and half of the racks were on clearance for $15. Um, awesome! So I tried on 30 dresses, and the last one was perfect. I go to pay, and I experience my first "down" of the day. There was only one older woman ahead of me, and between her and the equally slow cashier, THEY TOOK OVER HALF AN HOUR to check out... and the older woman only had ONE SHIRT! ONE SHIRT!!! I almost had an aneurism. The cashier got her payback, though, because while we waited, Levi rearranged the entire stock of gift cards, which were placed at a curiously low spot against their counters.

Then came another shocking down... the dress wasn't actually on sale because someone put it in the wrong spot... it was $50! Did I really want to pay that when I thought I was only paying $15? But did I want to go try to find another dress after all that trouble?

But then a shocking 'up' happened...:THEY LET ME HAVE THE DRESS FOR $15!!!

I LOVE YOU JCPENNEY!! And I apologize that my son mixed up your display of gift cards. Now I feel guilty.

So I was on an 'up' high upon leaving the store. I thought, "this deserves a celebration!! To Sonic, where we shall feast upon tater tots and Strawberry Slushes for half price (bc it was 2:30, half price drinks, which I NEVER make)!!" What a fantastically awesome day this was turning out to be!!

Now, there is this weird phenomenon (I don't know what else to call it) that occurs whenever Levi has any form of ice cream mixed with regular food. I don't know why. I wish I knew why. I wish I REMEMBERED not to feed him ice cream and food close together... but my memory hates me and wants to make me suffer (I can only assume). Either way, it causes him to throw up. Of course, the list of things that make him throw up is extensive... and it gets hard to keep track. I have an entire throw up kit in the car, filled w a bin, paper towels, wipes, disinfectant spray, and more that I finally put together because I was sick of having to take apart his car seat weekly to wash the throw up out. I thought I was prepared.

So we're driving away from sonic, happily sipping our slushes, munching on tots, and smiling bc of the fact that the day could not be more perfect.... but no. That last part is wrong. I was the only one smiling, I realized, when I looked in the rearview mirror and saw Levi start SPEWING mashed up tater tots and slushy all over the backseat. Usually I get a warning, an 'uh-oh mommy, I feel sick,' to let me know I need to pull over and roll down his window. Not this time.

My good mood plummeted as I quickly changed course and pulled in to a back driveway that ran behind an Aldi's and Office Depot to clean Levi off. Upon stopping, I got out of the car, shut my door, and promptly threw what might possibly be the worst temper tantrum of my life.

I yelled, I cursed, I waved my fists and screamed. I screamed things like, "WHYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY, oh my #*$$#*% GOSH, WHYYYYY???? AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!" and "SERIOUSLY???? I CANNOT TAKE THIS!!!!! I. CAN. NOT. TAKE. THIS!!!!! I HATE THROW UP!!!! I HATE IT! I HATE IT! I HATE IT!" and more "AHHHHHHHH's!!!"

I know. It was very mature of me.

Anyway, I was in the middle of a particularly agonizing wail when I heard a car door slam in the background... and I turned around to realize that I was not, in fact, blocked by the back of a bunch of stores like I thought. Aldi's was at an angle, and their side parking lot (that I didn't notice) was directly behind me, filled with random people who were standing and staring at me.

Fantastic.

On the plus side, I wasn't screaming at my kid... he was still safely enclosed in the backseat while my tirade went on. However, I'm sure I looked totally insane standing by my car and screaming curses at the sky. Completely mortified, I shut up and got Levi out and cleaned his car seat and replaced his clothes with the extras I had in the car for throw up emergencies.

Eventually, we got back in the car and I sat there for a bit, wondering why my day couldn't have just continued being unusually nice. I was feeling ridiculously sorry for myself and still beating back my embarrassment from earlier when a duck stepped out in front of my car, followed by four teeny tiny ducklings. It was probably the cutest thing I have ever seen, and I went from feeling bad to having to quell the overwhelming urge I had to jump out of the car and steal a little ducky to bring home. I had to seriously debate whether it was worth it to get attacked by the mama duck, and besides, I was pretty sure I wouldn't know how to raise a duckling. Levi, in the backseat, was utterly thrilled, saying over and over "Duckies, mommy!! Duckies!!" ...and just like that, my day went uphill again.

Currently, Levi is down for a nap. I'm scared to go anywhere and do anything in case there is another 'down' waiting for me before the day is through. Overall, it was a really good day though, with normal small annoyances, and for that, I am thankful. Sure, the throw up can get a bit overwhelming at times, but I can blame John for passing on his overactive gag reflex to our child. Personally, it seems like HE should have to clean it up... but I digress. I got a new dress for an awesome price, I enjoyed some Sonic (and so did the backseat of my car), I got to see the most adorable ducklings up close, and now Levi's down for his nap and I get to catch up on some Grimm.