The Mrs. Yoy Blog: The Quarantine Coronacles

Little E had to have his blood drawn this week to rule out some underlying possible causes for his chronic hive situation. To say I was apprehensive about taking Little E to get stuck with a needle was an understatement.  The kid bursts into tears whenever we enter any room that resembles a doctor's office.  He went bat-sh*t crazy at the vet.  Poodle Yoy on the other hand, was the calmer of the two and she even nervous pooped on the floor. They ushered us right back when we arrived.  I signed away both our lives and the nurse asked me to sit in the chair and then pull Little E up onto my lap. I'm not going to lie.  I'm a wuss.  Right after I had my babies I had lost some of my wussiness.  After going through a chunk of unmedicated labor, my pain threshold went through the ceiling. Novocain for pulling teeth?  FOR THE WEAK, I SAY! But two years out, I've reverted to my old self.  I held Little E close to me.  I pinned down one arm.  The nurse pinned down the ar

During our morning mall visit, Big E ended up visiting with Santa. It's not like he sat on his lap and rattled off a list of toys he wanted for Christmas, or even took a picture.  He just walked up to Santa with his friend Lady P. Big E can identify Santa, but he doesn't understand the back story. So after Lady P finished talking to Santa, my son got his turn. SOMETIMES I HAVE A COUGH. Holy moly, Big E thinks Santa is his doctor.  He is clueless!  Ha! Maybe I've been granted another year of Santa reprieve. In any case, I'm experiencing my annual feelings of envy.

This morning we met some friends at our local mall to escape the nasty fall weather. We played, ate lunch, and played again. Big E used the bathroom as we were finishing up lunch.  It wasn't a code red emergency, so I was thankful.  Normally we end up racing to the bathroom like we are on an episode of Supermarket Sweep. As Big E and his friends were climbing in and out of all the coin operated vehicles, I saw him grab his bottom. Panic bubbled up in my throat. BIG E, DO YOU NEED TO GO TO THE BATHROOM?! He did.  And, even worse, it was a poo-mergency. We were located dead center of the mall with restrooms located on each end of the mall. I scooped Big E up, as I felt running would not help his cause, and took off.  I slowed down to ask a woman working at the cookie kiosk where the closest bathroom was. Sweet lord, I had to run all the way down to the end AND down an escalator. At that moment, I pictured myself as the Incredible Hulk.  Big and muscle-y and green

I'm forever second guessing my parenting abilities.  Am I rearing wonderful human beings or are they both going to be serial killers?  I guess I'll know in about 15 years. In the meantime, I find solace in other parents' obvious lack of judgement.  At first read, I sound like a royal b*tch, but really it is deep rooted in my insecurity as a mom. On our way home from Thanksgiving dinner, we made a pit stop.  Mr. Yoy decided it would be awesome to check out all the Black Friday maniacs. We swung by Best Buy a little before nine.  The line was tremendous.  People were camped out.  I've seen such madness on the news, but to witness it in person was amazing. As we slowly cruised by and stared at all the people two things struck me. 1)  There were more people in line to buy a door buster then when I voted for president a few weeks back.  Sad. 2)  There was a mother sitting on the sidewalk with her infant in a bouncy seat and she was bouncing the sh*t out of this b

So my last entry was a little sappy.  Sorry for that.  I guess I was still on an endorphin high from our morning excursion of do-goodness. Don't worry, though.  That ended in like five seconds flat. Our cleaning people were here this morning.  Oh, how I love coming home to a perfectly clean home.  We came upstairs so I could put Little E down for his nap. As I was changing Little E's diaper, Big E took it upon himself to completely unmake his freshly made bed and drag all of his sheets, pillows, and blankets under his bed. Five hundred curse words consecutively ran through my head, although I rattled off none of them aloud. WHY?  WHY?  WHY? At first, he stonewalled me. I DON'T KNOW. Oh, I know.  Because you want to drive your dear, sweet mother insane. I went downstairs for a minute to grab a drink (non-alcholic, of course) and cool off.  I was feeling so frustrated. I tried again. WHY?  WHY?  WHY? Finally, he came clean. He was doing a monster che

Raising a kid is hard as hell. For those of you that haven't yet swam in the parenting pool, you are lucky in a way. Once your baby is born, everything you do shapes this little person. I've watched in pride (and sometimes horror) as things Mr. Yoy and I have done as parents presents itself in my kids' actions and comments. We have many hopes and dreams for the Yoys, one of which would be to have compassionate, philanthropic children. I read an article recently that children receive more pleasure from giving than receiving.  I discussed it with Mr. Yoy and we decided to do a food drive in lieu of gifts for Big E's 4th birthday party. I'm not going to lie.  The first ten or so times I mentioned it, Big E was not super jazzed about it.  He wanted TOYS!  Which, by the way, we in no way need. We talked about the food drive to Big E and eventually he came around, or at least stopped complaining about it. The day of his party arrived and his friends did no

Kids birthday parties are pretty lame (this excludes the drop-off kind). Don't gasp at me.  This is a safe, honest place.  You can admit it without judgement.  I'll never tell. Mr. Yoy would be happy if he never had to go to another birthday party again. This includes our own children. I begrudgingly plan the Yoys' parties.  Little E didn't even have a 2nd birthday party.  Don't feel sorry for him, he won't remember it anyway. On the spectrum of kids' party planning ranging from not giving a sh*t to insane, over planning maniac, I'd like to say I fall somewhere towards the more relaxed side of things.  In fact, I pride myself on it. Yesterday we held Big E's birthday party.  There is an awesome old mill by our house which has been converted into a park and playground.  The only wild card is the weather. Luckily for us, we had a beautiful day.  We brought in Big E's music teacher, ordered some deep dish pizza, and publix cake, and we h

I've been spending many afternoons slowly deweeding my flower beds.  They were so neglected, that I can only do a little at a time before I want to stab my eyes out with my gardening tools. Big E is my constant gardening companion.  He (attempts to) rake, sweep, and pull weeds. He also greets all of my neighbors as they meander by on their afternoon walks. One neighbor walked by with his two big dogs and his little girl.  I'd say she was about a year younger than Big E. I watched in horror as Big E made himself into a human gate in the middle of our sidewalk. SAY PLEASE AND I'LL LET YOU BY. She just stood there and stared at him.  She wasn't saying sh*t. SAY PLEASE AND I'LL LET YOU BY. Nothing. I began encouraging Big E to let her pass.  Her dad was halfway up the hill with the dogs.  He also was  encouraging her to keep walking. SAY PLEASE!  SAY PLEASE! I carefully untangled my arms from the thorny rose bushes and removed Big E from the sidewa

Big E was especially wound up this evening.  In the midst of book reading, usually a calm time for us, he was jumping on the bed and steam rolling Little E. I abandoned Clifford about 3/4 of the way through because I was getting seasick on Big E's bed. I grabbed Little E first and tossed him into his crib.  He's easy.  He can't climb out.  He goes right to sleep.  Tonight, he is my favorite son. I tuck Big E in.  I can tell from his tossing and turning he is not ready to sleep.  But I so am. I close his door and sit down at my desk.  I hear his feet hit the floor and about thirty seconds later he opens his door. Always strategizing, I pick up my phone and dramatically act out a fake phone call to my mom.  I realize how lame this is, but I'm desperate. YES, MOM, I DON'T THINK YOU SHOULD FLY UP TOMORROW BECAUSE BIG E WON'T GO TO BED. AND I'M CANCELING HIS BIRTHDAY. AND I'M CANCELING EVERY OTHER FUN THING HE MAY EVER DO IN HIS LIFETIME. AN

Little E has been a late everything. He waited until the last possible second to walk.  I had halfway dialed the physical therapist's number when he finally stood up and nakedly sashayed his way across Big E's bedroom. Same for talking.  It has been caveman city here for quite some time. Only in the past month or so has he begun stringing together words to form ideas. It can be quite frustrating as he is trying his darnedest to tell me something and I am just repeating back nonsense to him. DOUBLE?  DOUBLE DOWN?  DOUBLE DOWN ON ELEVEN?! It occurred to me this evening as I was deciphering him, that conversing with Little E is like vacationing in a non-English speaking country. I just keep repeating what I think he is saying louder and louder.  Because that is what I did in France.  I could have a megaphone hooked up to an amplifier and Little E and I still wouldn't understand each other. His response is usually a lot of NOs which progresses to a high pitch sc

Last night we had a lovely dinner at Ted's Montana Grill. And I'm not being sarcastic.  The boys were really well behaved.  It was like being in a Twilight Zone Episode starring our family. Towards the end of our meal, Big E crawled under the booth to sit next to Mr. Yoy.  While it seemed sweet at the time, his true motive was to posture himself next to all the table goodies. Like a Jimmy Buffett song (Mr. Yoy do I need you to approve this part?), Big E was just looking for a shaker of salt.  I watched in horror as Big E put his mouth over the top of the shaker.  I never extra salt my food but at this moment in time, I had visions of all the nasty things that could be on the salt shaker. Including now, my kid's mouth.  I suppressed the urge to vomit. Mr. Yoy quickly took the shaker away from Big E.  But he repeatedly reached for it.  So finally, in a fine parenting moment, Mr. Yoy (JOKINGLY, OF COURSE) informed Big E he was going to saw off his hand with the bison k

Oh, the L word. Care to take a guess?  It has infiltrated our daily dialogue.  Overuse of the word demands an automatic deduction of 50 IQ points. And the disease has spread to Big E. I only recently noticed his affinity for using LIKE. It would be one thing if Big E were a Facebook post.  In that case, you can never have enough likes. But he is a mere, almost four year old. Sometimes I have to laugh because I expect him to follow it with GAG ME WITH A SPOON! or something equally as relevant. My giggles quickly morph into sobs, because there is only one person he would have picked that up from. That would be the person he spends the majority of his life with, me. So maybe I need to rename my blog.  The Valley Girl Blog.  It has a nice ring to it. Anyhow, I have got to eliminate this word from my vocabulary. Like now. Get it? Maybe I need to set up a LIKE jar.  It could be my New Year's resolution.  That and losing 50 pounds.

My brother is visiting from NYC.  On Monday after we picked Big E up from school, we headed over to Toys R Us so Big E could select his birthday present. Mr. Yoy and I decided to buy Big E the Leap Frog tablet, so I could regain custody of my iPhone. I figured Big E could pick out a game and we'd call our shopping trip a day. Our trip to the check out line was derailed by a giant Little E poo and a Thomas the Train table.  We finally made it to the front of the store.  I checked my watch.  We had been shopping for almost 30 minutes. I handed the Leap Frog slip of paper to the cashier.  Apparently, people steal these things, so you have to have someone dig one out of the warehouse when you are committed to buy. The cashier radioed back to someone for the tablet. Five minutes passed. A second radio call. The Yoys were done, even if we were at a toy store.  They began grabbing candy from the so thoughtfully placed shelves in the check out aisle. UM, DIDN'T WE JUS

Little E is FINALLY starting to talk. It's not that I'm dying to have two motormouths, it's just I was starting to worry if he would ever talk. He's got a few catch phrases that are sweeping the Yoy nation. I DID IT! NO NIGHT NIGHT! NO TRAIN TODAY! MORE COTTAGE CHEESE! Pretty standard two year old conversation pieces, I know. But then Little E took a ride on the scary train. He started singing an innocent little tune, although I'm not sure where he picked it up. RAIN, RAIN GO AWAY COME AGAIN ANOTHER DAY! Except he sings it slow and in broken english.  And it is creepy as hell. My brother spent the past few days with us and he may never be the same again. It's like living with the ghost of Brittney Murphy.  Or that girl from Poltergeist. I'LL NEVER TELL!! Sometimes he mixes it up and does a slow jam monster version. I really need to get this on video,  so I can embarrass him for years to come. And lock my bedroom door at nigh