shhhhh…it’s a secret.

it’s ok. daddy doesn’t read the blog anyway. he would KILL me (not literally, he isn’t OJ) if he knew that today we played with washable markers…on jman’s skin. and we *might* have drawn little toddler tattoos on him.

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he is still too little to know what I was doing. so, I figured now was as good a time as any to break out my artistic prowess on my son’s arms and back. before you go all 1-800-iamcallingyourhusband on me. I want you to know that I am having a very bad day with my shingles. when I first got up this morning I went to look for my shingle and I couldn’t find it so I thought “whoop! I have been healed! hallelujah! hallelujah!” but then my neck starting hurting so bad I can’t turn my head. shingles are a bitch. anyway, I needed to entertain my son and he already had ink on him from a luggage tag he was playing with that smeared when *ding!* I had the idea. and yes, mentioning the shingles was an attempt at a vote of pity. did it work? k. good.

he had great fun drawing with the markers. he drew on me with reckless abandon (at one point I had something akin to a teardrop under my eye. I guess that means Jack knew about that spider that I went all homicidal on last week). I just happened to be more focused in my drawing efforts on my son.

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this was *supposed* to be a barbed wire toddlertattoo. it came out more tribal though so we will pretend that’s what I was going for. man, I hope Kat Von D reads this blog. Kat, I am totally available for employment. Call me anytime.

so anyway, this all started because I tried to bring in a card table from outside and put his new coloring mat on it, but he decided he’d rather be ‘Lord of the Dance’ and have a crayon buffet. (I hear the green ones taste the best).

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he isn’t quite old enough for that yet, but he is totally old enough to draw on skin with markers. and.so.am.I! yay!

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we even made sure to hook it up with the obligatory religious tat. cut me some slack, y’all! it’s not easy to draw on a squirmy toddler.

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that last letter is supposed to be a “u” but it looks a lot more like an arrow pointing down. “I love carpet” works too. or it could be “I love [pizza] or [stuffed animals] or [anything less than 2 feet off the ground that he can get his knuckles above]”.

anyway, about as soon as I’d drawn the last toddlertat we got in the tub. I was afraid this would be a 3 or 4 bath kinda day because there could be no evidence of today’s activities when Daddy gets home. J didn’t mind though. he likes baths and he took his markers with him.

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“you said these markers are washable right, mom?” ba dum chi! I’ll be here all day, folks. (and all night too because I’m in a lot of pain.).

well, as it turns out those markers are washable right off of everything except soap scum. if you really want to feel good about your housekeeping abilities, drop a washable marker into your bathtub and see how good it looks when it drains. ooopppsss.

welpsies. now that’s out of my system. won’t have to do it again probably until Clara is Jack’s age. :). k. I’m going to go lie down now.

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looky here

looky here at what I found today:

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today the felt board at the public library toddler time just so happened to feature the story of the 3 little pigs. I took this opportunity to give it to j straight. this time he heard the story w/o any BBQ pork, potato salad, or paramedic anecdotes. whew.

i also bought j and c a outside playground set tonight. we were so fortunate that the Clampetts came to help us get it back home:

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here is what it looks like off the truck and assembled:

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see how happy and polite those children are being? yeah, that’ll never happen around here. more likely they’ll be war cries and hair pulling at our residence. I specifically wanted a playset with 2 swings so that I could avoid major meltdowns. Im hoping that this new member of the Drew family brings us much joy and exhaustion for years to come. amen.

3 little pigs

first off, my son will more than likely flunk out of kindergarten because he thinks pigs say “wee, wee, wee” instead of oink. no matter how many times you tell him they say oink, he will still tell you “wee, wee!” if you ask what pigs say.

tonight j did story time w/ baby j. instead of reading one like we do every night, j decided to tell him one from memory. it was glaringly obvious that daddy was a kid looooooong ago because he didn’t remember how the story went at.all. a few times baby j made fake snoring noises, but daddy couldn’t take a hint. the little guy has got to be a genius. sure, he can’t pee in the potty consistently but he will let you know when he is bored.

the story went something like this (only way more drawn out): three little pigs had houses of straw, sticks, and bricks. and the wolf didn’t get to eat any of the pigs. as a matter of a fact the whole reason he went after the pigs is because he wanted “a pulled pork BBQ sandwich” and they all just ran into the last brick house. he was really mad when he got there because “he had all this potato salad and no main course and you cant just eat a side for dinner” when he got to the brick house, the wolf stood outside and “huffed and puffed and huffed and puffed and huffed some more until he passed out from lack of oxygen and the paramedics had to come, put on an oxygen mask, and take him to the hospital. when we woke up he had a change of heart and realized that all his life he was meant to be a vegetarian. the end”. well, that’s one way to tell it.

the last time j made up a story it was an original, not an adaptation, and it went on for like 10 minutes until he realized he had way to many plot-lines to wrap up, so he just turned on the tv.

in other news, I took j to a play date a gymboree today. he screamed his wild banchy scream over and over and over. I was praying so hard that he wouldn’t scream titttttttyyyyyy since I’d never met these people before and wasn’t really interested in earning a pop quiz from CPS(incidentally, he is saying “te de” like “ta da” but it comes out titty. niiiicccceee). he didn’t scream titty this time thankfully. next time there is just no telling. several children’s parents will probably be billing me for hearing tests though. that could get expensive.

Clara had her 4 month checkup last Friday. she is extremely tall and above average on the chunk-o-meter with a wittle bitty peanut head. because I’m mother of the year I didnt know she was getting shots at this appointment. she did so great though. she went “eeeeeeeeeeeehhh” and it was over. not a tear. not a scream. nothing. brother got his flu shot and did surprisingly well too. no one had a meltdown on the scales. no one did anything remotely embarrassing. it was glorious and unexpected, but not nearly as funny to write about as if j had thrown a naked tantrum. oh wait, that already happened.

until we meet again.