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Showing posts from January, 2015

Mr. Yoy: Ensuring Years and Years of Therapy

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The Yoys are avid Spotify users.  We each have our own playlist, including Little E. Typically, we all live in peace sharing our one Spotify account.  Tonight, Big E cranked up his playlist so he could listen to some Kidz Bop 27 while he bathed. Mr. Yoy had other ideas.  He was listening to Spotify at the office.

Mr. Yoy had his iPad with him, so he was able to change the music we were listening to remotely.  And this about rocked my kids' worlds.

The majority of the music on Big E's playlist is Halloween themed.  Some of it is quite creepy.

His music kept jumping around.  Big E could not understand why the songs were changing.

MAYBE IT'S HAUNTED?

I innocently suggested this hoping it would cure Big E of his nightly Kidz Bop routine.  That music is killing my soul.

Mr. Yoy called to see if we had figured out what he was doing, besides not working.

I had, but Big E was a little freaked out.  He came over and sat next to me and peeked at the computer as it bounced from one …

Tastes Like Chicken

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Little E attends state-funded Pre-K at our local elementary school.  As part of the program, the students are provided free breakfast and lunch at school.

Little E chooses to have breakfast at school because the whole wheat bagels at home do not stoke his fire.

School breakfast options include a variety of sugary cereals which can conveniently be drowned in chocolate milk.  It is every nutritionist's worst nightmare and I find it to be shameful given our nation's childhood obesity epidemic.

While Skyping with my mom yesterday, she innocently asked Little E what he had eaten for breakfast at school that day.

FLAT CIRCLE CHICKEN AND A BISCUIT.

Bon Appetit, folks!


Mrs. Yoy: Stop Whining

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Big E and I were sitting at the kitchen table working on his homework.

Little E was building an intricate train set up in the playroom.

Big E's task was to create a Fantasy story using some of his vocabulary words.

WHY-WHEEL-WHALE-WHERE-WHAT-WHEEZE-WHISKERS-WHEAT-WHACK-WHEN-WHITEN-WHINE.

I was explaining to Big E what he needed to do and read his vocabulary words aloud.  Then I heard Little's two cents making its way from the playroom.

WINE!  MAKE THE STORY ABOUT WINE!  YOU LOVE WINE!

And scene.




Sneakers, Sh*t, and a School Bus

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The morning rush has come and gone.  For thirty minutes, I am a focused machine.  I go through the daily grind of getting the Yoys off to the bus stop.
Today, we made it to the bus stop with about thirty seconds to spare.  The Yoys are efficient, if nothing else.
As Big E boarded the bus, I noticed he had stepped in dog crap.  Fresh.  It had spread all over the bottom of his sneaker like butter on a biscuit.  A million curse words bubbled up in my throat.  Mostly because I have some bad neighbors who never pick up after their dogs.  Ever.  I have watched them out of the second floor window of my own home as their dog made on my yard.  They usually peek around in suspicion and skulk off.  It drives me bananas.
I yelled for Big E to stop moving.  I stepped closer to grab him off the bus.  But instead, I slipped in the mound of sh*t.  In my beloved Ugg boots.  If I had to rank my favorite things in life, especially in Winter, it would go: 1) Ugg Boots 2) Hot Showers 3) My Offspring.  So …

Little E: The Bionic Boy

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Little E miraculously began walking again yesterday evening.  I was so relieved.
But by this morning, he had reverted back to crawling around on the floor.  We were definitely headed to the doctor.
After poking and prodding of Little E's knee, he was diagnosed with a knee sprain.  The doctor brought in a leg immobilizer for Little to wear.
Little E immediately went on high alert.
I WILL LOOK AT IT BUT I'M NOT WEARING IT.
He said this around 1,000 times.  They had Little E lay down on the table and they fitted him for the leg immobilizer.  He became more and more agitated.  By the time I had put him down on the floor to test out his new bionic leg, he had gone postal.
TAKE IT OFF! TAKE IT OFF! OH-OH!  TAKE IT OFF!
It sort of sounded like the Taylor Swift song.
The doctor told Little E that if he took it off and Little E walked, he would not have to wear it home.
WELL, I CAN WALK ON CARPET.  IN MY HOUSE.  NOT HERE.
He was negotiating.  The doctor was impressed.
OH. THIS IS NOTHI…

Little E: Miracle Walker

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Wednesday. Day four of no walking for Little E.  Day four of me carrying the sad sack everywhere.
BATHROOM?
PLAYROOM?
SUSHI?

I held him from school again and Mr. Yoy and I spent the morning trying to get him to take some steps.
He was hysterical and begging me to help him. I had to look away as I was becoming visibly upset.
Little E was getting no better, so I called the pediatrician.  We went back in and she got him to stand unassisted on the exam table claiming it was a "magic" table.  It worked!
But he was still unwilling to take steps.  I think he's scared.
Dr. K referred us to a pediatric orthopedist and I made an appointment for tomorrow morning.
He scooted around the hardwoods for most of the afternoon.  It was like having a baby again.
After dinner, I was cleaning up the kitchen when Little E came walking in, very nonchalantly, to show me his hex bug toy.
WHAT....THE....F....?
LITTLE E!  YOU ARE WALKING!  DOES IT HURT?
He smiled proudly.
ONLY A LITTLE.
It's a…

Big E: Dam It!

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I spent an hour plus yesterday afternoon helping the Yoys build a Lego firetruck that, once built, they destroyed in mere seconds.  Because firetrucks always roll off of cliffs.

Anyway, this was a rebuild.  Which means there was a 0% chance we were going to have all the necessary pieces.  Despite my attempts at organization, things happen.  Like Big E eating a piece or two.

We found ourselves missing an integral piece of the truck.

I heard Big E mutter "damn" under his breath.

WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY?

He looked at me with those innocent eyes.

WHAT? I SAID DAM. LIKE WHAT BEAVERS BUILD.

His voice went up four octaves as he defended his use of dam(n).

A few thoughts swirled madly in my head.

1) I really need to take it easy on the "d" word.
2) He WAS right.  A dam is what beavers build.  How could I argue with that?
3) I'm doomed as a parent.

I stared him down. I wanted him to know I was on to his trickery.

He didn't flinch. He didn't blink. Nothing.


The Yoys: A Traveling Sh*t Show

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Sunday we awoke early to head over to the Magic Kingdom for a day of happiness and sweet family memories.
I woke with a touch of intestinal distress.  That's as descriptive as I'm going to get about that.  If you want all the gory details, call me.  
We were rushing to make a 7:45 breakfast reservation.  As we unloaded the Yoys in the parking lot, Little E wanted to immediately be placed in the stroller.  He complained that his knee was bothering him, but we just chalked that up to him being one of the laziest kids on earth. I threw him in the stroller and we ran in.
Once inside, I had Mr. Yoy grab some Imodium AD from the Polynesian gift shop before we headed into breakfast with Lilo & Stitch.
I made it half way through breakfast before I had to make a break for the bathroom.  I downed more Imodium.
Little E continued to limp around breakfast, but mostly hid under the table when the characters arrived at our table.
And still, with one kid limping and one mommy tied to a t…