Mighty Putty

Adrienne and Garrret came over last night for a couple of beers. We got to talking about Salem and her antics. Mid conversation, Addie’s eyes lit up, she looked at me and excitedly stated that she thought she might know where "muddy buddy" came from.

addie: "Have you seen that commercial where that 'Oxy Clean' guy is yelling about some kind of putty that is supposed to be so awesome that it can fix a leaky faucet and hang a 50 pound garden hose on the wall?"

me: "Uh, no. Sure haven't seen that one."

addie: "Well, I was in the kitchen and I overheard a commercial on TV where that 'Oxy Clean' guy was yelling 'Mighty Putty, Mighty Putty' over and over again."

Chuk then chimes in, "Oh yeah! That's totally where she got the name muddy buddy. That stuff is so ridiculous, there's no way it could it can yank a semi truck down a one way street in China town."

The conversation then went on and on about ‘mighty putty’ and how there could be no way it can do any of the things on the commercial. At least we did find out how Salem came up with the endearing name of ‘muddy buddy’ for her super fun toy.

Whine and Cheese

Salem has been really whiny as of late. She keeps pretending to be sick and she doesn't want to go to school. Correct me if i'm wrong, but I wasn't supposed to have to deal with these issues until she became a teenager. I really feel bad for Chuk, as she seems to only want daddy when she's like this. Heh.

This morning around 3:45am she called out for daddy. He was in a coma so I drug myself in there to see what she wanted.

her: "Hey! You're not daddy...I want my daddy!"
me: "He is very tired and is sleeping and I'm sorry but he's not waking up. What about mommy? I'm here, is there something I can do?"
her: "NO. I want to sleep now."

Wow! No love for mommy = more sleep for me. That's a deal I can live with.

The Paranoia of a Three Year Old

Let's see if I get this right...
I overheard a conversation Salem was having with her father last night as he was brushing her teeth. It went something like this:

Her: "Dad? I don't want those bad people coming here and stealing my pajamas."
Him: "What? What are you talking about?"
Her: "I don't want those bad people coming here and stealing my pajamas and destroying our house!"
Him: "Hey sweetie, I have no idea what you mean but I promise that nobody is going to steal your PJs and destroy our house."

A little of Chuk's brother's paranoia must resonate in her genes. When Adam was a little kid, he used to sleep with knives and or scissors under his pillow at night in the event he was required to stab an intruder in the face; thus saving his family from certain death and dismemberment.

Screwed

An email I just received from my mother-in-law:

"Salem is playing on the floor next to my desk. I was on the computer when I heard her say "I'm going to screw you, I'm going to screw you" I kind of freaked out at first then I looked over and she was trying to put a screw into a stuffed lion."

I guess my kid normally plays with screws when she visits her grandparents at work--It's safer than the stupid seesaw at her school; as she almost lost her teeth while playing on it. She bashed her face against the back of another kid's skull while seesawing. Her gums were black and blue for a week and her bottom lip looked like she survived a bar fight. Screws vs seesaw, hardware always prevails!

Snoweater!

Salem's primary cold-weather activity here in Colorado has been - eating snow. She's so impressed by eating snow and munching on icicles, that its been nearly impossible to get her to focus on other activities. I've found it tough to even keep her following me, as after 10 feet of walking outside, she'd stop at the nearest snow covered object and enter a snow feeding frenzy. The best I could do to keep her moving was give her a freshly-made snowball to go. Here's a picture of some snoweating in action.

Skiing with small children

We've been in Steamboat, CO all week skiing. We are staying with my father, his fiance, her daughter, her daughter's boyfriend, my brother, his wife and their two small children. Needless to say, we have been in close contact with an enormous amout of people yet we've all got along relatively well.

About skiing... we rented skis for Salem for the week. She was excited at first with the novel idea of barreling down a hill in the snow. After we got her all bundled up, ski boots and all, the fun stopped. She complained about the snow being cold, not being able to walk in the boots, and just general purpose whinery. We tried getting her to slide around on her skis in the snow, however her response to our encouragement was to go limp as a form of protest.

Her cousin Sayre was a little bit more excited about skiing, yet really wanted to spend time with Salem rather than in the cold. We got the girls a sitter while the adults went out to hit the slopes. Having two three year old girls together for a week is quite interesting. They start to get on each other's nerves and whining will eventually ensue. I think Sayre summed it up with a quote during a morning breakfast meltdown: "Ahhhhh! I....can't...stop......whiiiining!"
We will be posting photos and videos of our trip in a bit. That should sum it up.

Cry Wolf

I got a call today from the kid's school; I had to go pick her up as she was sick. I got to the school and she was in the potty. I asked what was wrong, they said that she gagged quite a bit during lunch, didn't eat and complained that her throat hurt.
She got out of the potty and I approached her, asking her how she felt.
me: "What's wrong! I hope you're not getting sick! Poor baby..."
her: "My tummy hurts!"
me: "Your teacher said your throat hurt. What's the deal?"
her: "Yeah, my throat and my tummy."

We get in the car.
her: "I can't wait to get home and watch Sponge Bob and eat Cheetos!" she squealed with excitement.
me: "uh--you're sick. We're going home and going to bed. No TV, no Cheetos. We need to feel better and we need rest."
her: "NOOOO!" between sobs, "I want to play! I don't want to sleep!"
me: "but you're sick!"
her: "I want to go back to school!"
me: "I thought you were sick! You sound pretty fine to me!"
her: "I just didn't want to take a nap at school! Booooorrrring!"

I turned the car around and promptly took her back to school. I made her appologize to her teachers and tell them that her little plan didn't work. The teachers were ready for it; I guess they see schoolitis more than anyone else.

Muddy Buddy

For those who may be easily offended....

The kid was in her room yesterday playing with her barbies, just chatting away to herself. I heard her repeating, "Hey muddy buddy, how are you doing? I love you, muddy buddy, you're the best. Come over here, muddy buddy!"

Who is "muddy buddy?" I thought to myself. I crept over to her door and peeked inside her room to see what she was doing. Muddy Buddy as it turns out is one of my tampons. It was removed from the wrapper (unused. Puh-lease!) and she was holding it up so that it could "walk" along side her barbie doll.

me: "Salem, that's not a toy."
her: "Yes it is. It's my Muddy Buddy."
me: "Actually, it's not something to play with. I need to have it back."
her: "What is it?"
me: "er...um...it's for grown up girls to use while in the potty. You don't want to play with that--it's not a fun toy. You don't play around with rolls of toilet paper, do you? That’s not fun either. Let’s put this away."

And with that, I pulled the "muddy buddy" out of her hands and left the room. She followed me down the hall and into the bathroom while I returned the tampon back to the box. That little paper that comes inside every tampon box fluttered to the floor and was quickly snatched up by the kid. As she studied the paper, I was putting linens in the closet. I looked down to see that she was fascinated by the medical illustrations of a woman’s business section. She looked up at me and with an accusing tone said, “Mom? You put Muddy Buddy in your vagina?!”

Princess-Mac

Why are little girls so obsessed with princesses? When I was a kid, sure I liked them okay but the little girls of right now are rabid for them. What's the deal? The great and scary Disney Machine has brainwashed these kids into thinking they can't live another day if they don't have princess shoes, dresses, bags, movies, tiaras, coloring books; hell, I even have to buy Princess fruit snacks at the Kroger to avoid a melt-down from the girl. Disney took this princess train even further by lumping in 3 or 4 princess icons at a time to adorn books, clothing, lip gloss and mac 'n cheese boxes. It was bad enough when we couldn't find the frivolous Cinderella consumable item, now we need to be sure my child's yogurt container has ALL the silly pink ball gown wearing chicks on it. Enough!

Oh yeah, and Steph suggested princess underwear! That is absolutely a major element at our house.