Diego and Dora The Explorer

My firstborn son, Manuel, told me his first semi-dirty joke. He's eight and in second grade. That should explain it all. I've been expecting it since most of his comments, questions, and statements usually start with some sort of snort and snicker, followed by uncontrollable laughter, some inappropriate word, then some more snorting and snickering. Have to admit though, I wasn't expecting to laugh. A lot. Almost peed my pants. 5! kids really messes with your bladder. Just sayin'.


I will never see Dora and Diego the same way. Ever. Again.


And yes, I told him not to repeat it. Ever. Again. Gave him the talk and all that too ('cause you know I'm 'sponsible like that! You know that, right? Right?)

But if you want to know the joke, call me. It's funny as heck. ;)

EVOO

Started out as a regular, slightly chilly, but sunny day in April.  You know the kind. Where Spring plays peek-a-freaking-boo on frazzled mommies whose kids have had to stay one too many days indoors you.  Alyssa came home from school and I spent a few minutes in her room with her being hella nosy asking subtle, veiled questions about her day, who she hung out with, what she had for lunch, oh, you spoke with "that" guy? What's his name? you know, acting dumb to pump her for all the information I could possibly get my hands on. Our conversation started out with simple, everyday things, and then turned into WTH? And yeah, she pretty much tells me everything (or so I delude myself into thinking).

Alyssa: "Mom, my friends' sister told her she lost her viginity 5 times."

Me (picture my eyes bugging out, eyebrows raised to my hairline, yeah, not pretty, I know): "5 times, huh? Honey, baby, do you know what virginity is?"

Alyssa: "No."

No? No! No? 

How could my straight A beeeautiful daughter not know?  As I'm racking my brain trying to remember the specifics of what I've told her and come up blank on the whole virginity situation. Oh, I know. 'Cause the entire time I was explaining STD's and showing her medically explicit pictures of what could happen to her (hoping against all hope that the images would burn onto the back of her eyelids), explaining the whole 'your body is a temple' thing, and pretty much making sure she is super duper well informed, I somehow forgot to tell her that it all starts somewhere. Duh. Slap forehead.

Me: "Babe, once you have sexual intercourse you are no longer a virgin. You know, like extra virgin olive oil (what?).  It's made from the oil of the olives. So it's pure. No one or anything has touched or messed with it (grasping at straws here and failing). So, you can't lose your virginity 5 times. You can only lose it once."

Alyssa: "I get it mom. It makes sense."

Ok. This is where WTH comes in. Clearly it was not my best 'mom' moment and I know I got caught like a deer in the headlights. EVOO and virginity?  Who knew that analogy existed? I sure didn't. But it worked people. I blame this mental fart lack of coherent thought on peek-a-freaking-boo Spring.

Now, should it bother me that she made the nonexistent fleeting connection between EVOO and virginity? I can't afford to be picky my friends. I take what I can get.

Oh, and that friends' sister was 18. I asked. What kind of mother would I be if I didn't? Yeah, don't answer that.

Aiden Turns 3!

Aiden - According to Google, Aiden means, "Little Fire."

Ha! That is so him.

Aiden, you love to play, jump, roll, get dirty, play with mud, water, or anything that makes a mess, cake, cookies, candy, bugs, not spiders, soda, juice, chocolate milk, chicken with rice, your brothers, your sister, dad, mom, you say please and thank you all the time, Dora the Explorer, Diego, Thomas the Train, trains, cars, the Wiggles, more trains, super hero underwear, more trains, and the park.

You are one busy little boy who makes my world a better place. The wet smooches, "squeeze hugs" you give and the "suuuuckaaaah" you call everyone when you don't get your way are the staples of my life.

You are the most wonderful little boy and an integral part of our family. Sure, you "sometimes" throw your temper tantrums and show us how in a family of 5! kids you need to show who's boss. But in the end you cuddle up to me and tell me "sowee" and all is right with the world.

You're not a fan of Isaiah right now. Oh, you love him. I know that because you are kind to the baaabee. But I see how you struggle with wanting to be the baaabee again. That's my fault.  You see, I wanted you to stay a baby as long as possible so I really spoiled you (and I told everyone not to let you touch the ground or else!). No, really. Like you were attached to my hip spoiled. I would hoist your big ol' 1 year old baby body onto my hip and your leg would automatically go over my shoulder and your chubby hand would wind itself in my hair for a better grip. (My hair is still very thin in that spot son thankyouverymuch!) But would I put you down? Nope. Or how you learned to crawl at 10 months. And walk at 13 months. And start speaking at 20 months. Yeah, yeah, I know. That wasn't the best thing to do. But in retrospect, I wouldn't change a thing.

You love the idea of school. When you come with me to take Little Michael to school you do not want to leave...ever. You love the teachers, the kids, the colors, the toys, the play structures, everything. I hope you show this much enthusiasm about school when you get to high school son :) You know what, you'll be starting pre-school in August. And I'll be right there trying not to cry on my camera.

The zest of your life is the park. You calmly put on your shoes and wait patiently by the door until I'm ready. Ok, who am I kidding? You run to the door and pound on it all the while shouting "park" at the top of your lungs until I open it. And that's on a good day. So I've learned to get you ready first and then tell you where we're going.

Your hair. OMG! Your hair is the bomb! I love the ringlets after your bath. I don't love the matted mess it becomes 5 minutes after.  But it's so you. I love the golden colors in the summer and the thousand variations of brown in the winter.

And your tiny dimple on the right side of your mouth. Love it.

Ok, Ok. I could go on forever listing every attribute, every angle of your face, every emotion that I feel when I see you. But the world wide web isn't big enough room fo' all that!

So my lovely little fire, I love you. Happy birthday. My hope is that you live a life of happiness, that you make good choices, and that you always remember that your mommy loves you. No.Matter.What.

Oh, and thank you for choosing me as your mommy.