The potty training is coming along nicely

Potty training is always the hardest part. But we're lucky, it's coming along very well.

Oh, wait. You thought I was talking about the puppy?

About a week ago, we had my cousin and her husband over for dinner. It was kind of late in the late evening. The Bean had a pretty busy day and the next day was a school day. After dinner, we were all sitting around talking and the Bean got sleepy so he layed down on the ground with the puppy to cuddle. Laying down with the puppy to cuddle always preceeds sleep, so I wasn't surprised when we started to hear little 5 year old snores coming from the living room.

We decided to move our after-dinner chatting to the sofa. The Bean stayed fast asleep at our feet on the floor. About 45 minutes later, he suddlenly stands up and announce "I have to go potty!" As I start to get up to help him to the bathroom, he walks straight over to the back door and opens it. He heads outside and I'm shouting "No honey, wait!" Of course the guys are like "No, don't stop him; we gotta see this!"

So, the Bean heads outside (in the cold, dark night), drops his drawers, and pees on the back lawn.

He walked back in and of course, the entire room is breaking up. Uncontrollable laughter from every one of us. I tell him to walk back to his room and get undressed and into bed, and follow him as he swerves down the hallway and into his room. As I'm helping him get his shoes off, he stands there with the goofiest grin on his face. I giggled at the sight and he giggled back. I laid him down on the bed and before I even got him covered up, he was OUT COLD.

The kid was sleep walking! Holy crap, he sleep-walked outside and peed on the lawn!!!!

At least it was outside....

You've given up, haven't you?

So, it seems like every time I write lately I'm doing so after a long hiatus. I suck at this blogging thing. I'm entirely too lazy. And busy. But that's no excuse, cause I know that there are tons of you out there who do way more than me and you're still here on the net blogging away. Anyway...

Viva la Musica!
Ah, at last. Remember that long lost Wilco CD I was whining about? Found! And though I sot of blamed my husband (whose memory is eerily similar to that of my 84 year old grandma) I think it very well may have been me who misplaced the damn thing for oh, I don't know, like 5 months.

But who are we mortals to lay blame, eh? Anyway, it's back, along with several other CDs I was missing. The short, ecclectic list goes something like this: Wilco, Jimmy Buffect's Fruitcakes, The Joshua Tree, Guy Clark's Cold Dog Soup, Paul Simon (don't know which one), and two Beattles discs. Oh, and a compilation I made called "Storytellers" with a couple very cool and totally subversive Utah Phillips tracks and "Stuff that Works" also by Guy Clark.

Dude, Magnum got all the girls
Like the card said:
"Thirty. It's all a big joke until it happens to you."

This weekend we had the honor of attending a 30th birthday party for my brother in law down in Los Angeles. Well, North Hollywood actually, and yes, it matters. Los Angeles sounds mildly glamorous and intriguing, no? North Hollywood is the the bastard step-child of the cooler and hipper West Hollywood, part of L.A. proper, and inhabited by extremely chic and fashionable homosexuals. They've dubbed it "NoHo". NoHos? Um, doubt it.

My sister & BIL live in a little neighborhood that's kind of old and established with big elm trees arching over the street. It's one of those neighborhoods that was once uber-cute, then got run down, and now is being made cute and charming again by all the young and upwardly mobile families and singles. Most of the neighborhood is Latino, so the parties tend to lean toward Spanish Disco music and often last until the next morning with the young, the old, the single and families all celebrating together.

Ah, but this weekend, it was cheesy-azz white "kids" taking over the street. That's right; for my BIL's celebration of three decades, there were 40 or so young, hip, wanna-be actors (or other "industry" folk) getting down with our bad selves to the theme of Magnum P.I. Everyone ('cept the big ol' pregnant lady) dressed in his or her best hawaiian shirt, 80's short-shorts, and mustache for a Magnum PI Chili-dog and Beer party. There were 40 Magnums and one side-kick (that little guy with the jumpsuit-- what's his name?) all consuming far to much alcahol and a truly disgusting number of chili-dogs. Thank gawd none of them slept over or the methane pollution might have killed us all.

Lest you think a house full of Magnum PI imitators was the climax of the party, think again! I'm not sure which was better, the stunned silence when BIL received his b-day gift: a new motorcycle (yes, my sister is bat-chit crazy for that one,) or when his "industry" friends unveiled the movie they made for him. Personally, I like the movie. The premise goes like this:

J has managed to fool everyone for thirty years about he fact
that he is actually *gasp* GAY! The "friends" hold an interention trying
to convince his wife of the real J. and lay out all the evidence...

Did I mention this is friggen high-larious? His close friend and film partner (who happens to be *gasp* gay,) produced the movie and included all the tawdry photographic evidence from a typical guy's drunken college days. Take a peek at the "evidence" at www.joemightbegay.com. You be the judge. ;) BTW, he's trying to put the movie up as well, so it might be there by now. Tasteless I know, but some seriously funny chit.

Sugar and Spice and Everything Nice

It's a GIRL!!!!

Mullets are in, right?

Ugh, I hate it when my kid is sick. Not because he's difficult or anything, but because he's so sick. I feel bad for him when he doesn't even feel good enough to eat a cookie.

Today is one of those days. So was Monday. And Tuesday.

He's been running a fever for three days now. I stayed home today and kept him out of shool thinking hey, it's day three, I'll just make sure he's on the mend and send him back to school on Thursday. He was better this morning, but now his temp is back up to 103.

He keeps catching me staring at him with my pathertic "mommy is sad cuz you're so sick" look. And he gives me one of those fake "don't worry, I'm fine" grins that I used to give my mom when she was worrying about me. Come to think of it, I still do. And it's so fake; how did we ever think our moms were going to buy it?

So, yesterday I got a haircut. It's pretty much the worst cut I've had since 2000. I guess I should say the worst style, because the cut itself isn't that bad. Iffen you're a rock star in a 1980's hair band. My gawd, what was she thinking cutting it like that? I have, um, fringe (?) ALL AROUND MY FACE. And it's still really long in back.

I'm going back tonight for some repairs. I may end up with a lot less hair than I hoped for, but hey, it's better than looking like this:

~PS, Bonus points if you know who the hottie is.