The Mrs. Yoy Blog: The Quarantine Coronacles

Big E had turned into Alfalfa.  Each morning, I would have to wet his hair down to try and camouflage his need for a haircut. Today, I ran him by Tommy's after school to finally get his hair under control. As usual, he kept wiping the cape, which was draped over him to protect him from hairs, on his face. By the end of the haircut, Big E looked like he had a full beard.  He had managed to coat his face with all his hair clippings.  The barber handed me a wet towel to wipe up Big E's face because the air blower wasn't working. I tried my best, but eventually I conceded to a bath once we got home. Next to the cash register, they keep a bowl of tootsie pops for the kids.  Big E knows the routine.  He thanked the barber and asked for a lollipop. There was a 0% chance we were leaving without one, but I hate giving him lollipops.  Big E drools down his hands, arms, shirt, everywhere in the unfortunate path of gravity. I loaded the Yoys into the car and headed home.

We shipped Little E off to school today so it was just me and Big E bumming around. I wanted to run some errands, one of which included picking out an anniversary present for Mr. Yoy.   This Sunday will mark six years since the Gators beat George Mason and advanced to the championship game, I mean six glorious years since we were married. I'm usually horrific about selecting presents, but Mr. Yoy has been dropping hints as large as an atomic bomb, so I figured I couldn't screw this up. I did have one loose end.  His name was Big E.  And he gossips like a 13 year-old girl. After a quick stop, I was in possession of Mr. Yoy's anniversary gift, with days to spare I might add.  I had this. We picked Mr. Yoy up for lunch before we had to retrieve Little E from school. Before the sliding doors of the big red bus could complete their smooth opening, Big E shouted out to Mr. Yoy. WE GOT YOU A PRESENT!  IT HAS AN ALLIGATOR ON IT! I turned around an

Today we took the whole Yoy crew to the newly opened Legoland. Mr. Yoy had taken Big E alone last Saturday and had bragged about how empty it was. This afternoon it was the opposite of empty.  It was complete and utter chaos. Please remind me again why I go to any kid-themed place on the weekend?  Seriously?  Have I lost my damn mind? I was watching Little E as he marveled at the amazing miniature Atlanta built by the folks at Legoland.  It is pretty dang cool, if I may say so without sounding like a total geek.  Plus everything was at Little E's eye level and he was in heaven. Big E and my mom, dad, Mr. Yoy, two Uncle Yoys, an Aunt Yoy, and cousin Yoy were in the main play area. Just picture ten million Legos, ten million little kids, and every virus known to man.  That is the perfect summary of Legoland. Big E had entered the giant playhouse.  I was able to drag Little E away from the model of Atlanta to check out what every one else was up to.  I walked up to see B

Another day, another trip to Costco. This time, we dragged a visiting Grandma Yoy along. After we had piled our cart full of things we marginally needed, the Yoys and I waited by the exit for my mom to get her iced coffee fix. The food line was moving S-L-O-W, but finally, the lady in front of Grandma Yoy received her heaping cup of fro-yo and was headed our way. I was eyeing her yogurt.  Dang, that looked amazing.  I tried to turn away, but it had me in a trance. Apparently, I wasn't the only one.  Big E was also eyeing the fro-yo.  Only he took it one step further, as always. As the lady approached our cart, Big E broke into song. ICE ICE BABY! (first loudly) ICE ICE BABY! (then in a creepier whisper version) Da.Ding.Ding.Ding.Da.Da.Ding.Ding. The woman laughed at Big E and even gave him a wink, but none of her frozen yogurt. I'm sure she was wondering why a three year old had Vanilla Ice on the brain. Before you go judging me AGAIN, in my defense, I wou

Today we hit 80 degrees in the ATL.  I consider this sandal weather.  Not just for my tired looking winter feet, but for the Yoys. They are both mega sweaters.  Keeping them in socks and sneakers is just not an option.  Their little feet become mini furnaces tucked away in their shoes. Mr. Yoy asked me if I wanted to swing by for dinner.  A light bulb went off in my head.  I could run the kids by the shoe store before we hit up Zoe's for dinner.  They are right next door to each other!  And that way Big E wouldn't have to squeeze his feet into last summer's water shoes, which is what he wore today. I love it when a plan comes together. I was getting ready for our 5pm departure, when I checked the store's hours on their website. Dang.  They close at five.  Who closes at five, anyway? Back up.  Who in the HELL would take their little kids shoe shopping during dinner time.  Two big thumbs pointed back at myself.  I WOULD. So, we had to reformulate our plan.  Mr

Have I completely lost my mind?  Have I lost the ability to parent? I think the warm weather melted my brain. I took Little E on a walk this morning.  I pulled out the old school, single walking stroller from our complete collection of strollers. You know what I'm talking about.  You easily have seven different types of strollers for each possible occasion.  It is a sickness.  An epidemic.  I know. We had just had some serious rain and the sun was playing peek-a-boo with our neighborhood.  So we headed out.  Sans sunscreen. I seriously cannot believe I did this.  With Big E, I lathered him up for a trip to the mailbox. Not Little E.  Not my much forgotten second child .  We walked up and down the Atlanta hills for 60+ minutes. The stroller has a sun shade, but depending on which direction we walked in, he may or may not have been covered. After a quick lunch we ran back out to pick Big E up from school.  And that's when I noticed it. My poor Little E had a strip

Big E committed his first crime today.  I always pegged Little E for the future criminal, but I had it all wrong. I took Big E to the Aquarium to meet up with one of his many lady friends. Every time we passed by the dining area, the kids called for cake.  Look, I get it.  Cake is freaking amazing, and I, too, would like to eat it for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. And a late night snack. As lunch time approached we finally broke down and headed into the cafeteria. I did not have a stroller today as it was just me and Big E.  Little E was enjoying his first day of school. Like a heat-seeking missile, Big E ran straight up to the dessert table.  You see, at the GA Aquarium they have a giant table full of desserts.  It sort of reminds me of a food challenge on my favorite show, The Biggest Loser. There is every tempting, sugar laden food you could imagine. So I guess I can't really blame Big E all that much.  He is majorly impulsive.  He is three. As I yelled out his nam

This weekend, Big E and Mr. Yoy are flying to Houston to visit family. This will be Big E's first trip on an airplane as a toilet trained human.  I'm not even flying with him and I am nervous as hell. This will definitely be a preview of our flight together to NYC in April, so I'm curious to see how everything goes down.  I'm also thankful it is Mr. Yoy and not me, who has the honor of taking Big E on his diaper-free maiden voyage. In my dream sequence, Big E would use the restroom ten seconds before it was time to board and he would be fine the duration of the flight.  Of course, he would not be allowed to ingest any fluids starting two days prior to his trip. What you may call dehydration, I call planning. But let's not forget the worse case scenario. This would be a bad case of shy bladder right before Big E boards the plane.  In a panic, about five minutes after take-off, he absolutely has to go to the bathroom and I have to plead with the flight att

Tonight Big E consumed in no particular order: 1) chicken nuggets 2) juice box 3) fruit salad 4) hamentashen (cookie) 5) ice cream cone 6) milk I know this seems like a whole lotta crap, but this is Purim, or as I am from now on referring to it, Jewish Halloween. Big E also rummaged through a ball pit, think Chuckie Cheese, and bounced himself silly in no fewer than five bouncy houses at our synagogue's Purim carnival. It was a wild and crazy night for that little Yoyser. Which is why it may come as no surprise that this kid was sawing logs a mere two seconds after I buckled him in his car seat. Oh what to do, what to do?! Do I wake him? Do I just throw him in bed? Do I let him spend the night in the big red bus?  They do that in the commercial, by the way. Normally I WOULD just throw him in bed, but this kid is seriously disgusting. Think about all the germs he has accumulated on his food/play bender.  Think about the melted ice cream that ran down his han

Today I took both Yoys to Publix. I know, whatever horrible things happened there, I had coming to me. Surprisingly, the Yoys were very well behaved.  We had a rad race car shopping cart and even though it was only 9:45, I drove by the bakery and let them get sugar cookies.  I am becoming SUCH a pushover. We had made it through the store and we were waiting in the only open checkout lane.  There was only one person in front of me, so it was no biggie.  At least that is what I thought. Unfortunately for me, the checkout lady was a carbon copy of the Target Lady Kristin Wiig plays on SNL, minus the wicked Midwestern accent. She was commenting on everything she scanned and chatting up the customer in front of me. I quickly scanned my cart. There were no tampons, control top pantyhose, or Metamucil.  Whew, good call on my part. SO YOU ARE HAVING YOUR PERIOD? SO YOU ARE HAVING A FAT DAY? SO YOU HAVEN'T TAKEN A CRAP IN FOUR DAYS? She finally got around to scanning o

Today we had Big E's parent/teacher conference. This phrase has taken on a new meaning since I had children. It is hard to explain how personal, as a parent, you take criticism and comments about your child. I realize that parenting only gets you so far, and then the child's personality takes over. For those of you that have met Big E, you know he is a mini Mr. Yoy, at least in personality. He is very outgoing and friendly and gregarious. So why am I so worried about a parent/teacher conference?  Surely Teacher Yoy sees the same qualities I see in him, right?  Or am I wearing "Mommy Goggles"? Here are my top five fears in no particular order: 1) Your kid picks his nose during class and eats his boogers.  The kids all call him booger eater. 2) Your kid hits other kids.  The kids all call him Rocky. 3) Your kid is dumb.  The kids all call him Snooki. 4) Your kid can't pull his pants up after he uses the bathroom.  The kids all call him gangsta.

Little E turned 19 months yesterday.  He is growing up so fast. I remember when Big E was 19 months.  I was about 8 months pregnant with Little E.  Hmm...that's about all I can remember. I can not recall a single milestone for Big E. I really want to remember when he started tearing away bites from, for instance, a string cheese. I think and think and think.  Nothing pops in my head.  All I remember is being fat and hot and b*tchy when Big E was 19 months.  He went days on end without a bath because I couldn't bend over with my belly.  Bad mommy moment, I know. Today, I gave Little E a whole string cheese to waddle around the house with.  He was standing at the refrigerator begging like a dog, so I figured how much harm could I do?  He either takes bites or shoves the whole thing in his mouth and slowly dissolves it. After a few minutes the cheese was gone.  Well, that worked.  So maybe he IS old enough to take bites. Next up on our exciting schedule, a goodwill r

Big E is feeling a little under the weather today. As a special treat, we ran through the CFA drive-thru for a strawberry milkshake. Big E worked on his milkshake as we navigated the aisles at Target.  He MAYBE sucked down a third of the shake by the time we arrived home. As a side note, I would like to say that if I had bought myself a shake, it would have been dead, murdered, slaughtered in about five minutes flat.  That's how I roll. But not Big E.  He savors. Anyway, by this time the shake had morphed into strawberry milk so I put it in the freezer. At lunchtime, Big E requested his shake again, so I obliged. After lunch I was putting away the items we purchased at Target.  Big E was "assisting".  I ran upstairs to put some diapers away. Nipping at my heels with his shake in hand was Big E. His bottom lip was quivering. WHAT'S WRONG? Half sobbing/half whining he finally told me he spilled his milkshake.  I peered over the railing to where I last