Sweet Little Dyl

Dylan is always trying to get me to give him "junk." He loves sugar, and soda, and is always bartering with me. This morning was no exception, so when I pulled into the Chevron to get a Diet Coke, this little exchange occurred:
Dyl, "I'll have a diet coke."
Me, laughing, "yeah right."
Dyl,"well, you shouldn't have sugar either."
Me, "Diet Coke doesn't have sugar."
Dyl, "Well, when I'm an a-dolt, I will buy me a Diet Coke and not you."
Me,"That's fine, I will still be an adult, and can buy myself a Diet Coke."
Dyl," Well, when you are old, I am not going to take care of you. I will put you in a bad home with strangers."
He is only 4, but I totally believe him. I need to seriously suck up to Dawson.

Things didn't get much better this afternoon. We have all liked renting this house across from the new Diner, and enjoyed the people watching. Dave and I were in the kitchen, mass producing BLT's for dinner, when Dawson came in to report that Dyl was out on the trampoline, yelling to the bikers', "Sweet hog, Dude!" and then turning around and pulling his pants down, to moon them. I am glad that Dave could keep a straight face, for the discipline, because it's not funny. "It's NOT funny, Linsey!"

"TIMBERRRRR!"

This morning, I should have known it was going to be a bad day, when I was assigned to the Khaki Pod at work.(Also known as the shit pod.)But it started out decent, as I had time to put my bag away, put on my nursey paraphernalia, and hit Starbucks, before any major drama started. I started out with only 2 patients, which was nice, and I checked my e-mail, and chatted with some co-workers for a bit, and then my radio went off, and a tech informed me he was putting a new patient in my pod. I checked the computer and saw that my new patient's chief complaint was a Priapism. For anyone not familiar with that term, it is a prolonged erection, requiring terrible things to make it better, i.e, needles, scalpels, surgery... Anyway, I followed the poor guy, and the tech into the room, and when the patient turned around, I introduced myself as the nurse that would be taking care of him today. A strange look came over his face, and he started to pat his genitalia, and then he said, "I think it is starting to go down." He stood there for a few more minutes patting himself, and then said, "Yep, I think I'm good." He practically skipped out of the ED. Then the tech started laughing, and he said, "you cured that guy, just by introducing yourself."
Talk about a blow to my ego.

Kindergarten

Last night was one of the longest nights I have ever had. Dawson started Kindergarten today and it was a strange experience for me. I have had a serious gut ache for the last 3 days, worrying about him going to school. I know it is ridiculous, and that he will be fine, but I still can't help the anxiety. This morning he was so excited and pumped to be going on the bus, and I was dry heaving as I helped him put on his backpack. I went over all the rules I could think of, and he was totally annoyed with me. "I KNOW, MOM!" He did come back and give me a big hug, before he boarded the Loser Cruiser, and yelled to me, "love ya, bye!"
After Dawson was gone, Dyl kept saying, "what do you think Daws is doing now?" Dylan is going to miss him.
We went to the skate park for awhile this morning, and Dylan was a wild man. He was really being a daredevil. We brought Emma's little Dora Rider, and she dragged it to the top of the ramp and pushed it down. That only pacified her one time. The next time she dragged it up, she boarded her little scooter and went flying down the ramp. It scared the crap out of both of us, but a few minutes later she did it again. By the time we were ready to leave, she was riding it backwards down the ramp. Dylan and I were just watching her and laughing.

Park Rats

You know there is always that "one" kid at the park. Usually he belongs to me.

Itty Bitty Dentist Wentist

It was time for our Semi-Annual dentist trip today. It is usually a pretty easy visit. The kids' dentist is really great with them, but he drives me crazy. He always talks in a weird little baby voice, that I try to tune out. The problem is that he talks in that same voice to me, and in third person, so I never know who he is talking to. I only realize that he has said something to me, when it gets really quiet, and then I have to say, "I can't understand a damn thing you are saying. I am almost 30 years old, so tell Dylan, and he can translate for me." Emma bit him pretty good though, when he stuck his finger in her mouth, and she only bit harder when he started to say ouch. I think that is the first time I realized he actually has a deep voice. At least we are cavity-free and don't have to go back for 6 months.

This is what all our spare time looks like these days. The boys are quite content to ride their trucks down the dirt piles, and Emma is happy on the tractor, or eating dirt. Dave works really hard on everything else, and I pout and use the hammer drill.
"They" say that it means more to you if you put your own sweat and tears into it. "They" can bite me. I would rather just pay to have it done.

As long as I can remember, the gathering place for my family, has always been in my parent's bedroom. That is where we watched the X-Files, for Family Home Evening, and that is where I introduced my future husband to my parents.
The best part of my trip to VA, was hanging out on my parents' bed, with my family. We watched the Olympics late into the night, eating chips and clam dip, drinking Diet Coke, and critiquing the Chinese gymnasts. My beautiful little sister, Hannah, trying to time her power belch to coincide with the swimmers' whistle.(She is available)
It was hard to leave, and I was dreading the travel parts, but Dawson and Emma slept both legs of the trip. Dawson kept everyone lined up to board the plane, entertained with his rendition of Low, by Flo Rida. He had his IPOD earphones in, and was dancing and singing out loud. He might be the next white rapper. He also told the flight attendent that she was "smokin' hot like his mom."
It was so good to see Dave! We all missed him so much, and I know he missed us. He brought presents to the airport. The boys' got their own tape measures, and hammers, to use on the new house, Emma got sunglasses, and I got a 44 oz. Diet Coke.
It was a great trip, but we are glad to be home.

We have been in Virginia now for a couple of days, and my boys would be perfectly happy to just move in with my parents. They love their Grandpa Ranny,and Nana.
Today we took the kids to the National Zoo. There is a specific purse shop that I like to frequent in the District, that we hit before the zoo. I was disappointed to find the original dude was nowhere to be found, and that the spot had been taken over by a hard-ass Asian lady, who did not haggle. I have never left that shop without 5 or 6 fake designer purses, but today, I left empty handed. Dave was glad to hear the news however, since I usually give the purses away, or sell them for 50 cents at our annual garage sale. I really enjoy the haggling.
The zoo today was so stinking hot and humid. Even the indoor exhibits were hot. The boys were total troopers for the first part of the day, but Emma was a pain. She is so damn independent right now, and it drives me crazy. She has to do everything herself. I got no sympathy from my Dad today, who just likened Emma, to a story about her mother taking the scalpel and having to cut her own umbilical cord. That's only amusing when I'm not sweating profusely, and having an argument over who gets to push the stroller, with an 18 month old.
I distracted Emma with an enormous carton of chilled sugar,and got the boys each one as well. At some point, someone in our party told Dylan to keep his iced sugar out of the sun or it would melt. As we were walking, he stopped short at the end of the shade and let out a blood curdling scream. I hurried back to him, thinking he must have had a limb ripped from his body, but it was just the thought of going into the sun with his treat. He kept screaming " but, I'm not supposed to go in the sun!!" It was mildly entertaining to watch him run from patch to patch of shade for the next 45 minutes with his treat.
Overall, we all had a great time, and I know we will sleep good tonight.

Karma

So here's the thing about me. Sometimes I am dramatic. Sometimes I cause a scene. At times of high stress, I tend to act out. The irony to that, however, is that my chosen career, is one of drama and high stress, which I handle fairly calmly.

Today I loaded up my three angelic cherubs, and my 19 year old sister,(think drama and high stress) and boarded a cross country flight to Virginia, for a 2 week visit with my family. Everything went fairly smooth, as we boarded the plane, and if the plane attendant heard me call him a douche bag, when he made us go to the back of the line, he didn't let on. Apparently families with young children don't board in the first 50 sections now.

When we finally settled into the very bowels of the plane, I already had my, "I seriously dare you to comment on my kids" look, down. I was glad to have Hannah around to help haul kids, but her seat belt must have been laced with "sleepy dust" since she was comatose before we left the ground. The boys' were very well behaved and excited to see Grandpa Randy. They made it 2 hours into the flight before they had to use the bathroom, and so with minimal displacement, we went to the tiny bathroom, did our business and were back in our seats lickety split. I had no sooner put their little earphones back on, when the crotchety older women ahead of us turned around, and this was our exchange:

Nasty Lady: "Tell your kid to stop kicking my seat."

Me: "We just came back from the bathroom, I assure you he wasn't doing it on purpose."

Nasty Lady " Well, your baby has been squawking the whole time."

Me: "Hand me your pillow, and I will smother her."

Nasty Lady: muttered something about inexperienced young mothers, something or other, blah, blah.

Me: "You know what lady, these aren't even my kids. My sister died in a car accident 3 weeks ago and now I am doing my best. So you will excuse me if I haven't mastered the art of mothering in 3 weeks."

My voice almost cracked at the end, because I was a little stressed out anyway. After the altercation, the man sitting behind me reached up through the seats and squeezed my arm. He said, "that's a good thing you're doing." When the plane landed, everyone around me was staring the lady down, and Hannah and I were cackling, like the couple of witches that we are.

I didn't handle the situation very well, and I definitely vow to work on my self-restraint, come New Years Day. We got off the plane and made it to our connecting flight with time to spare. We got the very first seats on the plane and I was feeling pretty good, until Dawson wanted to watch a movie, and I realized I had left the borrowed DVD player somewhere in the Chicago airport.

Karma.