What The?

Uno is apparently an overwhelmingly exciting game for Dustin. Couple minutes ago we're playing Uno and eating raisins; I drop one on the floor and Dustin picks it up saying, "You have to eat this! This could feed a Somalian weasel for a whole year...I'm trying to help you out...I'm trying to take you under my wing."

Feed a what? Okay...

"Honey, there are weasels everywhere. But the ones in Somalia are ESPECIALLY starving."

I don't really know what to say to this, but I am not going to eat that raisin.

Lame

So being as how I am super lame and have a head full of cotton balls right now
(they call it "mommy brain"...does it last?) I can't think of a durned thing to post and I feel obligated to post SOMEthing because I have this chronic sense of obligation (read: I'm avoiding the dishes and I really want Nutella so something must be done and this is as good a thing as any to do.) It's the holidays and I know a lot of people will be watching "It's a Wonderful Life" and getting this general feeling that life is wonderful. My parents are particularly fond of eating cold shrimp and watching this movie. They are practically inseparable activities. So before you begin your shrimp-and-financial-expectations-massacre, dear parents, Jack Handy has a public service announcement for you:

“It's true that every time you hear a bell, an angel gets its wings. But what they don't tell you is that every time you hear a mouse trap snap, an angel gets set on fire.”


Actually, shrimp sounds really good right now, but the problem is that so does Nutella.

Comparisons

So first of all sorry Diane, I know, I know you tagged me, I'm still trying to think of six unique things about myself. Much better at spotting them in other people.

Like, for example, today we discover that Dustin makes very unique comparisons.

I've been noticing lately that people, especially girls, find it hard to take their eyes off my abdomen (I remember having a similar fascination with pregnant tummies before I had to look at my own in the mirror every day.) I was telling Dustin that it reminded me of women with large cleavage who are always having to say "My eyes are up here!" Sometimes I giggle on the inside because I talk to someone who can't stop staring at my tummy and I seriously consider going "My eyes are up here," just to see what happens.

But it's not like I'm mad or anything like that, I really don't care. I just think it's funny. So in order to point out that I'm not miffed about this, I told him, "I think it's because all girls have this knowledge in the back of their mind that someday if they have kids, they'll have to be the ones getting pregnant and giving birth. So that's always sort of a trigger for us when we see a pregnant lady, you know? It's like looking at your own future, you feel a personal interest in it."

"It's exactly like when I see another guy get hit in the balls," Dustin helpfully points out.

Public Service Announcement: If you ever throw a party that involves a word-association game, I'm sorry but we can't play.

Yeah, we know...

16 Game Winning Streak Over

Yesterday I witnessed BYU suffer a beatdown at TCU. The score was 32 to 7. We were supposed to go undefeated.
WHO DIDN'T PAY THEIR TITHING!!!

I'm A Big Kid Now

First of all I guess we never officially announced it: we're having a boy! Second, let's just say that I'm thrilled because this will bring our total of little boys in the house up to 2. Allow me to go through several recent episodes to prove that the longer we are married, the more Dustin regresses. (This is a current picture.)


1. THE FOOD FIGHT

Today, Dustin got into a fight with his food. His pot pie has been in the microwave for about six minutes--and before I can even say "Don't do that" he reaches in and tries to grab it with his bare hand. "AGHHH!" he screams. I believe the poor thing blistered his finger. So then of course he jerks back, hitting his hand on the microwave door and cutting himself. "AGHH!" he screams again. Remember those kindergarten days when you thought that a paper towel could cure anything? So he grabs a bunch of wet paper towels and applies them to his hand. "Let me give you a band aid," I say, feeling more and more like his mother. "Come here sweetie, I'm going to put a band aid on your boo boo!" But he shakes his head and holds his hand close to his chest. "I've already got a paper towel on there." Ohhhh boy. He finally lets me put the band aid on. It takes two of them actually, because this kid really knows how to bounce off a microwave door. It also takes quite a while to relinquish the bloody paper towel. Which I'm sure would have been a great remedy and all, but looked a little bonkers.
I thought we had established that the food was hot, so I didn't see the next one coming. Dustin sits down and immediately burns his mouth. Finally realizing that maybe this pot pie is not exactly an ice cube, he starts blowing on it to cool it off. Blowing rather hard actually. There was much screaming of "AGHHH" when he blew a big ole crumb right into his eye. Next time, I will cut his food up for him and spoon it into his mouth, because clearly this self-directed thing is causing issues. Food: 4, Dustin: 0.

2. PARCHEESI PIECES

Those of you who have never played Parcheesi are totally missing out on one of our favorite games. It's a board game from India. It is just mindless enough that you can relax, but includes the added spice of attacking the person you are playing with, sending them home, blocking them while you take 40 turns in a row; the revenge factor is a lot like Uno actually. Bit of a power trip. The more we play it, the more I get to meet 2-year-old-Dustin and boy is he a hoot. The other day while I was still on my winning streak (now Dustin kicks my trash) and had just won for the third or fourth time in a row, my husband lines all of my elephant pieces up and says, "Do you remember the elephant graveyard in the Lion King?" I say yes, surprised that HE remembers. "Do you know how they died?" he asks. I had to admit that I did not. "THIS IS HOW!!!" he yells, and starts bombing my elephants with his oxen. "DIE! DIE! DIE!!!" He is dropping his pieces from two feet up. "Now all your elephants are dead!" I take a look. They do indeed appear to be laying on their sad little elephant backs, but so are his pieces. "Your oxen are also dead as doornails," I point out. "No," he replies smugly, "YOUR guys are dead. MY guys are SLEEPING." When I get up and leave to continue on with my day, he is still flat on the floor dropping oxen on top of elephants and making "Kaboosh" and "P-sheeeewww" noises.The best part? He drops one of his own pieces right in his eye. Followed by much screaming of "AGGHH!"

3. HAPPY SONGS

I am so flattered that Dustin is comfortable around me. Really, honestly, I think it's great that he can relax and be himself, whatever the heck that means, I'm just a little surprised by the sheer volume of singing that goes on. Not from me either. Dustin sings pretty constantly throughout the day. We have shower songs, like "I'm gonna wash that man right out of my hair." (This is one of my personal favorites.) We have lots of Beach Boys and lots of Beatles and a fair smattering of songs that are mostly instrumental, which ends up sounding like a lot of "Dow dowdow dowwwww." About half of the songs he sings are commercial jingles. I really get a kick out of his passionate rendition of "Cotton, the fabric of our lives." Oftentimes he will not remember the words at all, but will go ahead and sing the song anyway AT THE TOP OF HIS LUNGS, saying all kinds of crazy things to the tune of, oh let's say, "I Can't Fight This Feeling Anymore" and other 80's power ballads.
But I think the best thing ever was yesterday, when Dustin randomly became obsessed with Templeton the Rat from Charlotte's Web. He went around the house singing all kinds of weirdo made-up lyrics randomly punctuated by "Smorgasbord, smorgasbord, smorgasbord!"--this is the only reason I knew what song it was supposed to be--and frequently commenting on how he quite admires that rat. That rat got so fat. Isn't it cool how fat the rat got? Yes, it is amazing. What an eating technique. Now that is some serious food consumption. And wasn't it freaking awesome when he was eating the corn cob and it was like a typewriter and he was pushing it with his tail and...yes honey. It blew my mind. Went pop just like a balloon.

4. WINNIE THE PIG

I think this must go hand in hand with inventing song lyrics. Dustin couldn't remember that the movie was called "Charlotte's Web," so he decided to just call the movie whatever he wanted and kept asking me "What is the name of that rat from Winnie the Pig?" I couldn't answer him. I was laughing too hard. When we finally established that the movie was not called Winnie the Pig and that the rat's name was Templeton, he immediately proceeded to watch that entire carnival eating scene on YouTube, over and over. I can't help but be reminded of the time he thought that the girl who wrote Twilight was named Stephanie Oscar-Meyer-Weiner.

5. WHAT IS MY SPOUSE'S SPECIES?

Tonight at dinner:

Dustin: I like your shirt.
Me: Thank you.
Dustin: It's purple.
Me: Yes, it is. Mostly it fits over my tummy.
Dustin: That shirt makes you look like Barney.
Me: OH my gosh.
Dustin: What, when pregnant fat people wear purple they look like Barney.
Me:...
Dustin: Relax, it's not like I said you had a TAIL or anything.

I can guarantee you that the next time my husband calls his pregnant wife a fatty purple dinosaur there will be MUCH screaming of "AGGHH."

In conclusion, I have the cutest husband ever, but am slightly freaked out that his recent behavior makes me look mature, even grandmotherly by comparison. At least our baby will have someone his own age to play with! :D

PREPARE THE FLIP-FLOPS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

So I'm constantly amazed by what my husband thinks I'm going to understand. Or what he thinks is obvious. Today he was eating lunch really fast before running to the grocery store and he said "Honey! Prepare my flip-flops!" I blinked. What? How do you prepare flip-flops? Those seem pretty straightforward. You slip them on. But he kept going. "Prepare my flip-flops! You have to pull them out so i can step into them and we can go!" So I asked him where they were. "In the crack!" he yelled. Of course I'm going to snort when he says that. "Nook!" he yelled. "Crack!" What he means by this, ladies and gentlemen, is that the flip-flops are behind the couch. Instead of taking his suggestion, I decided to go blog about it and told him so. "Why are you blogging?" he whined. "Why are you doing this? WHY DON'T YOU JUST PREPARE MY FLIP-FLOPS?" Now he is blowing on my face and saying "Ooohhh, you think you are so funny!"

But we all know who's the funny one.