Gymnastics class last week was amazing. I cannot wait until class tomorrow.
MJ had fallen asleep in the car on the way to class, so he was a little grumpy and uncooperative to begin with. Once he realized there were plenty of girls to stare at, he was in his glory.
There was a cute little obstacle course set up and my little man was unafraid to show off; I was so proud of him.
My mother has been after me to share the story of what she refers to as the “Purple Paint Incident” ever since it happened a few weeks ago.
My extremely pregnant sister and her two girls were over to pick something up and I was rushing around to get ready to leave for work. MJ and my sister’s youngest were playing in the foyer where I had foolishly left my work stuff where they could reach it.
Normally, this would not have been too terrible as the most they could have gotten into was work bag, but on this particular day, I had an almost full gallon of purple paint with my things as I was planning on doing a project with the kids at work.
I was in my bedroom, my sister was in the living room, so there were no adults around to thwart them. There was a big boom and I ran out to see the hardwood floor, in the house I have owned for less than a year, covered in purple paint. I (quite rightly) begin making incoherent noises. To this day, I am still not quite sure who was the culprit. MJ had purple splashes down his belly, but my sister’s daughter had purple hands and feet.
They both began crying, afraid of being yelled at, and my sister’s four year old begin chanting: “I didn’t do it, Aunt Amber. It wasn’t me. I didn’t do it.”
My sister grabbed some paper towels and began wiping up the mess while I took care of the open can of paint. The four year old was still chanting when I came in the house so I had to reassure her that I knew she was not responsible for the mess.
My sister told me that she had done the best she could and went to corral the children into MJ’s playroom. I panicked. The floor was still purple and I was not OK with that. I got some warm water and we both went back to work on the spot.
From her vantage in the playroom, the four year old felt it was her duty to point out any spots she thought we were missing. My sister had to quit before the spot was completely up as the baby was making her uncomfortable and then she went to entertain the still crying children.
Somehow, the two year old ended up with some sort of whistle and would not stop blowing it. As she was part of the reason the floor was purple and her sister was not helping, still shouting out instructions, I became even more frustrated than I was. I told the two year old that if she would not stop blowing the whistle, I would shove it up her nose. In hindsight, this may have been a harsh threat to make to a two year old, but remember, my hardwood floor was PURPLE!
Needless to say, I no longer like the color purple. I was able to get all but one small spot off the floor, so there is now a piece of furniture there to cover it up 🙂
My little boy sure does love to play outside! With the weather here in NY finally starting to get nice, MJ and I will go for walks or to the park in the morning before I head to work. Even if we just hang out in our own backyard he is a happy camper. In fact, he likes it outside so much that when I start to pick up his toys to go in the house for lunch or nap, he starts to cry. He is definitely his father’s son. I think CJ would be content to stay outside all day every day if he could.
MJ at the park. He looks so little.
Playing at his cousin’s house.
This little boy has also discovered that he can climb. Anything that can make him taller, he attempts to climb. Sofas and other such things, I do not mind him climbing; by the time he gets up on them, he is tired and just sits and rests. It is the other things I mind. He has discovered that he can push the coffee table in the toy room up to the window, climb on top of it, and stare out at the neighbors. He thinks it is great. The first time I saw him on top of the table, I almost had a heart attack. It seems like this boy has no self-preservation. He will, without a doubt, grow to be some crazy daredevil who jumps out of perfectly good airplanes or something along those lines. These will just be stories he can never share with Mommy. 🙂
Of course, my camera died during MJ’s party and we have no more batteries. Can’t post more pictures until I remember to buy some, but here is one of him enjoying his gluten-free cake!
Cake time!
Everything went off without a hitch. CJ’s mother’s BBQ and my homemade gluten-free mac and cheese went together even better than I thought they would. My pregnant sister put it all together – I do not mean just on one plate, she mixed it together – and it was amazing. CJ and I have decided that it will now be a main staple in our diet.
Today, we had a gentleman come over to measure some of our windows and give us an estimate for their replacement. The house we bought in January was built in 1951 and still has all the original windows. The appointment was at 10am and it is now 1:30pm and he is still at my house. Is it a little rude that I am blogging while he his here, maybe. Honestly, I just really wanted to vent that he is still here and I had tons of stuff to do today since I have to cook Easter dinner tomorrow for approximately 15 people.
Hopefully he will be headed out soon. He is getting borderline pushy. I think he was expecting us to sign up TODAY, and that is just not something I am willing to do. I am a nervous consumer – and that is putting it lightly. Honestly, I think we will end up getting the windows from them but I just need time to think before making such a large financial commitment.
It has been beyond crazy lately trying to get a house we have been living in for less than three months ready enough to entertain a large number of family members. Why do I need to have them over? My baby is turning one!
It is hard to believe that my baby boy is already one. He walks, he talks; where did the time go?
My family is great, but sometimes they can be a little judgemental. My mother will comment on how the kitchen is not painted yet. My grandma, who has a keen eye for dust, will let me know if I missed a spot. One of my aunts makes the cakes for everyone’s birthday parties, but I told her I wanted to do this one myself and I am sure she will let me know if it is not up to standards.
I know MJ will have lots of fun tomorrow, but I sure will not. Who ever really has fun hosting the party; making sure drinks are full, there are enough snacks out…
Somehow I managed to pull together the time to write a little more for the Yahoo Contributor Network so if anyone is interested in reading one of the two articles, here they are: “Words of Wisdom” and “My Son Creates his own Photo Ops.”
Hopefully after tomorrow afternoon, I will still be sane enough to post a few pictures of the birthday boy and of the main rooms of the house that have finally been finished. I am so proud of what CJ and I have been able to do on our own. CJ even built me my dining room table! I think it is beyond gorgeous and I never knew he was so handy. 🙂
Bed early tonight beccause I have a dragon cake to finish in the morning. Rawr! 😀
This morning I went to my first wrestling tournament. Still not sure how I felt about it.
My cousin has been after me for weeks to come check him out -it is his first year on varsity- and I felt like it was just something I should do for him. First and foremost, high school bleachers + an already sore back = not the greatest day I could have had, but he was so happy to see CJ and me there that I was more than willing to tough it out.
The reason my cousin was so determined for me to go is because he wants my son to wrestle when he is older. I keep saying that MJ is only nine months old and we have plenty of time to figure things like that out, but my cousin -smarty pants that he is- knew my excuses were just delay tactics because of how I felt about the sport.
I grew up in a house where weight was always an issue. I ABSOLUTELY refuse to raise my children in the same environment. The idea of letting my son participate in a sport where he would be weighed on a daily basis is a big deal for me. That alone I was not sure if I could be okay with.
After watching a few matches, I found that I could partially get into the action when it was not someone I knew (which was most of them as I do not make a habit of frequenting high school events) but when it was my cousins turn, every body slam, every rough move made me squirm in discomfort. How could I possibly remain a calm and sane person if I were watching another boy do that to my MJ?
My husband used to wrestle and takes no issue with the sport. He said he would never allow any of our boys (if we have another one) to cut more than five pounds to “make weight.” I can be okay with that. As to watching my boy potentially take a beating? Well, we will have to wait and see. Maybe MJ will never really get into wrestling.
I have a feeling that no matter how I may try to encourage another winter sport, wrestling may be what I am stuck with. My cousin already attempts to teach MJ moves -getting the baby to pin his teddy bear. He is confident that he can turn MJ into a state champ by the time he is a freshman in high school. As that is quite a long way away, I say go for it. MJ adores him and I love watching them spend time together. As to whether or not I will be spending a lot of time in sweaty wrestling rooms, only time can tell. 
Pinstripes and plaid DO NOT go together. Hence, why I made my fiance change his clothes one night before we could go out. My grandparents fought on his behalf, saying that he looked just fine the way he was and how it was not fair of me to ask him to change just because I did not like something about his outfit. To this day I still maintain that my grandmother could not see the pinstripes from across the room, otherwise she would have been on my side.
Papa still likes to joke when we are out on whether or not his clothes match. He even called me at my bridal shower to tell me that he was afraid to let Grandma leave the house because he did not think she matched.
“Will she pass?” he had asked me on the phone. Well she did, but he sure did not when he came to pick her up. He had on black pants and black shoes, but was wearing white socks. He says he is too old to worry about the color of his socks.
This started me thinking though. Who decided that you should not wear stripes and plaid at the same time? (Besides the obvious that they just do not look good together.)
Amber Batdorf's Blog 