determined

Tonight we were putting Andy to bed, reading him his nightly three stories. He always gets wild when he comes running out of the shower naked and jumps all over his mattress, so it takes a while for him to come down off his high.

We finished the third story and he looked at me and asked, "Can we read another book, Mommy?"

Me: "No."

Andy: "Why?"

Me: "Because it's time for bed."

Andy: "Can you say that again Mommy?"

Me: "Because it's time for bed."

Andy: "No, say 'no' again."

Me: "No."

Andy: "Well then....I'll just have to read another book myself!"

duh, mom

Me: Andy! Come into the bathroom and brush your teeth!

Andy: But.....but it's Tuesday!

he's good. he's very good.

I am sick this weekend. I caught from Andy. It's a doozie. I feel rotten.

And all I want to do is lie in my Lazy Boy and be listless and sluggish. But Andy is incapable of leaving me alone. He is with me always. If I'm on the couch, he's pressed up against me. If I'm in bed, he's pressed up against me. And it's a wonderful thing 99% of the time, because I love having him next to me to cuddle. But when I'm achy and sore and snotty and miserable, it's not as enjoyable. Because he squirms. And kicks. And wants to poke me. And play with my hair. And ask me for more juice, and gummi bears, and anything else he craves. And he can't resist harassing Nugget which causes her to jump up on the furniture onto me. And it all just sucks.

So this morning I was sitting in my Lazy Boy in a stupor, trying to rest. And up comes Andy, of course. I asked him to sit on the couch with his dad but he refused. So I let him stay for a while. And inevitably he started to squirm and kick me and wrestle with Nugget and squeal in my ear.

And after admonishing him several times, I finally picked him up and put him on the floor and told him to go play.

Of course he immediately clouded up and stuck his lip out and said, "Why are you putting me on the floor, Mommy?"

I said, "Because Mommy is sick, Andy, and you are hurting me. I don't want you up here."

And I quote the little stinker when he said, "But I just want to be loved!"

mouth!

Last night we ordered Chinese food with my parents. Andy was really riled up.

Shawn and I have a running gag about fortune cookies. Many years ago the family got together and ordered 5 meals and got 5 cookies with our orders. But when we all went into the kitchen to get our cookies, they were gone. Turns out Shawn had been secretly scarfing down all of the cookies while the rest of us were eating. And to this day I can't let it go and bring it up every time we get Chinese food. (He certainly deserves it, if you ask me.)

So last night when dinner was over we got all goofy about our fortune cookies and the two of us got up and raced each other, pushing and shoving, into the kitchen to get them.

Andy was sitting with my mom and asked her what was going on. She told him, "Andy, Mommy and Daddy are just being goofy."

She said he jumped off the couch, ran into the hallway, and screamed, "Hey you IDIOTS!"

hey andy

Yesterday we were in the car coming home from lunch at a restaurant with friends. I had the radio on and Andy was reading a book (about a duck) in his car seat.

Suddenly, the song 'Hey, Jude' came on the radio. Being one of my favorite songs, I turned it up a bit.

By the time Paul had gotten to the second verse, I heard a wail from the backseat. Andy was staring at me with his bottom lip sticking out and huge tears in his eyes, falling down his cheeks. I gasped and said, "Andy! What's wrong?"

He said, "I don't like this song, Mommy."

I figured it was really something else and Andy was only able to articulate the freshest thing on his mind - the song - to explain his misery or pain or whatever it was. So I reached back and patted his leg, told him we'd be home soon, and went back to singing Hey Jude to him.

He said it again. "I don't like this song, Mommy!" And tears again started to well up in his eyes. We were only a minute from home and for the rest of the journey his lip remained firmly in the pout position and his eyes watered.

Now I ask you, who doesn't like 'Hey Jude'?

still screwing up. me, that is.

Today I went to Petco with Nugget and Andy in tow. It was rough. I was lugging around a 28-pound bag of kitty litter, trying desperately to get assistance from the slack-jawed employees who went out of their way to ignore me, all the while watching Andy inch along the filthy floor on his belly running his hair through the dirt, shoplifting dog biscuits and secretly feeding them to Nugget behind my back.

I was fried. F-r-i-e-d.

So in the checkout line, with Nugget wrapping the leash around my leg and my shoulder partially dislocated from the weight of the tub of litter, Andy decided to start hitting the dog in the face. Just hitting her to be mean, with an evil look on his face. She couldn't understand why he was beating on her.

And I did what parents aren't supposed to do... I snapped and said, "Stop it you bad kid!"

And his face clouded up and he said, "I'm not bad!"

I immediately corrected myself and said, "No honey, you aren't bad but what you did to Nugget was very mean."

But it was too late. He pouted. Then he looked up at the cashier and said, "Hey ma'am?"

She didn't hear him, so he repeated himself. "Hey ma'am?"

Then he pointed at me and said, "Mommy hurt my feelings."