When Derek got home from work yesterday, I still hadn't gone to the hardware store to pick up the water lines to complete our work on the new sink in our bathroom.  This, as you can imagine, did not go over well.  In my defense, there was in "incident" involving The Boy and then he fell asleep and slept all afternoon.  If I had a nanny, or if it was socially responsible to just LEAVE a 19 month old sleeping in his bed to go to the hardware store, I would have done it.  I offered to go myself but there we were, all piled in the truck together. 

When we got home, I started to trudge up the stairs.

K:  Do you want to come up and watch me do it?
D:  Nah, I just wait until you are done and then come upstairs and fix it.

Brat.

I'm not going to mention any names but SOMEONE got the wrong water lines.  So I was of to return them.  And back home again.  I managed to get twist my body (read pregnancy chest) into the miniscule cabinet underneath the sink when suddenly I was joined by The Boy.  He had graham cracker breath that filled the cabinet instantly.  I don't know how he got them since I try to never feed The Boy.  It was like being stuck in the Keebler Elf Treehouse with all the windows shut.  He had no problem getting his very little body through the other door of the cabinet and closing the door behind him.  So now I was operating in a 1.5 square foot area with Mr. Graham King and the light that can shine in between the frame on my side and my every growing chest.  The Boy had a piece of the old pipe in his hand and was swinging it around.  Did I mention we were in the clown car of cabinets?

K:  Hey, WATCH THAT!!!  You are going to poke me in the eye.

He started to crawl up my body and only when his little fingers were poked into my eye sockets did I realize that he thought I was asking him to tell me where my eyes were located on my face.  Which I was most DEFINITELY not doing.  So now I am stuck under the cabinet trying to wield a 17 pound pipe wrench in the dark with a toddler smelling like a s'more without all the good ingredients, trying to poke my eyes out.

K:  DEEERRRRRRREEEEEKKKKKKKK!!!!!!

In case you were wondering, he did come to extricate us.  Because he is good like that.  And the sink is fixed.  I rock.

This post is from from my other blog here

I have found a great new website run by my friend Rachel.  It''s called Minti (and it''s free) and they have provided a place for me to have it out with my sister over her wacky parenting style.  I''m at kristen.minti.com.  It''s an all-out sister war.  So if you want to witness the carnage, head on over there to check it out.  While you are there, leave a comment (even you, my favorite lurkers--you know who you are).  If you leave comments or rate my articles, I become more popular than my sister and my ranking gets higher than hers.  ''Cause you never get miss an opportunity for a little sister rivalry.

  It has begun.  Yesterday we were on the phone with Nana and she wanted to know all of The Boy's latest accomplishments (i.e. finding a cure for cancer, ending global warming, becoming the first Libertarian president of the United States).  It was perfect timing because in the last 72 hours, The Boy now knows everything, as evidenced by his conversation with his father yesterday when a plane flew overhead.

D:  That's a plane.
E:  PLANE!

Not 'ain.' Not 'pain.' Not 'nane.'  Just 'plane.'
 
Baffled that now he can speak, we took him home and read him his farm book.   He can speak.  A horse says "neigh," a monkey says "ooo, ooo, ooo," a sheep says "baa," a rooster says "cock-a-doodle-doo."  It was amazing.  He then passed his test on the phone with Nana. 

N:  So is this everything he is learning at school?

After 6 months of every animal making the sound "baa" despite the fact that I beg him to say the right sounds, he can now do 10 animal sounds.  And preschool is getting all the credit. 

K:  Ah, no, Nana, we have actually been teaching him his animal sounds at home. 

His 5 1/2 hours a week at school (during which, according to Miss JoAnn, he cries constantly) versus his 162 1/2 hours a week with me.  And he learned this at school?

In Nana's defense, I have made the same incorrect assumption (which I will NEVER make again and I humbly apologize to Renee).  When Alex make an elephant's trunk motion with his arm when I saw him last week, I asked if he had learned it at day care.  Of course his brilliant mother taught that to him. 

Because your mother is responsible for every single sign of brilliance.