Wednesday, January 20, 2016

The Yoys: Take A Hike!

This weekend brought freezing temperatures to the ATL.

Logically, the Yoys decided to participate in the most outdoorsy activity they could conjure up.  A hike. Outside. With trees and animals and rivers.

Our new neighborhood is surrounded by different trails that all lead down to the Chattahoochee River.  We tried out Gold Branch on Monday.

At the entrance to the trail, the four of us stared at the map and pretended we knew how to use a legend and also that we had any idea regarding the length or difficulty of our endeavor.  And just to make things interesting, the sun was beginning to head down behind the rolling hills of North Georgia. Lets add that we had no water or food into the equation.  It was basically, scene-for-scene, identical to the Blair Witch Project.

So off we headed. And it was peaceful. And beautiful. And it felt good, once my blood started pumping through my pre-hyporthermic limbs.  We made it down to the river in good time.

The Yoys were excited to dip their walking sticks into the Chattahoochee.  That is not a metaphor for anything.  It's just how it was.  We sang Alan Jackson. We were clearly fish out of water. 

Mr. Yoy only briefly discussed turning around.  He was more concerned with the hike up the looming ridge than I was.  We'll power through!  Just like Yoysers do.

I was rethinking my decision as we climbed the narrow path.  The drop-off was daunting.  I kept my hands on Little E's jacket and my eyes on the ground.  Mr. Yoy was charged with keeping a visual on Big E.

Little E was talking and looking around and I could just see him walking straight off the mountain a la The Price is Right's most beloved Cliff Hangers game. DOO-DEE-DOO-DEE-DOO!

Every half mile or so we encountered a map that looked like this.

We studied it like we knew where the hell we were going...but did we really?  Mr. Yoy and I earnestly discussed which Yoy we would eat first if we got lost in the wilderness and things got hairy.

For the record, it would be Little E.  He is meatier.

I'm happy to report that after about 90 minutes, we found our way back to the car.  The boys were tired, I was a popsicle, and we were all feeling the effects of a good hike.

We will definitely go back to Gold Branch.  Maybe when it is warmer.  And maybe with a leash for Little E.

Tuesday, January 12, 2016

Mrs. Yoy: Falling On Hard Times

This afternoon it warmed up to a balmy 50 degrees, so I took Big E out back for a rousing game of one-on-one soccer.  Soccer is my least favorite sport to play (sorry soccer lovers).  I'm more of a basketball girl, myself.  But in an effort to tire Big E out, I took one for the team.

As I raced down the very slight incline of my backyard to get my size 11, bare feet (I couldn't very well ruin my Stuart Weitzman knee high boots) on the cold, hard ball, I lost my footing.

I slipped on the dormant, frozen grass and my dried-out winter feet provided no traction. If I was a cartoon, there would have been some funny sound effect.  My feet went flying in the air and I landed ass first, on the grass.  And I'm not going to sugar coat it.  It hurt like a b*tch.


I looked around to see if any of my neighbors had witnessed the big spill.  All was quiet in the 'hood with the exception of the men across the street busy building a house and stifling their judgement and giggles.

And because I'm raising such a compassionate young man, he raced past my carcass and scored a goal, before he came back to check on his mother.  I mean I only grew him and birthed him so why would he care that I had possibly broken my back or my butt or my pride?

I got up, dusted off the grass and kept on playing.

Worn out, Yoyser.  He was sweating and everything!

The Placebo

I have often written about Big E's aversion to sleep.  It's not that he doesn't sleep, but his schedule follows that of a college freshman.  Asleep by midnight, up at noon. Unfortunately for all involved, he needs to be out of bed by about 6:50 each morning. This makes for a very cranky Yoyser.

Big E's pediatrician advised us to use a very low dose of melatonin, as needed.  The problem is, Big E needs it every night. I pop one of those magical white pills in his mouth and it's sleepsville in 30-45 minutes.

I don't feel comfortable giving this to Big E every night. I read all of these terrible things it does to your child (on the internet, of course) and it freaks me out.

I'm trying to wind him down naturally.  No screen time within two hours of bedtime, exercise, reading before bedtime, a hot know, the usual suspects.

But it's not working.  Mr. Yoy and I devised a placebo scheme.  Yesterday, I purchased Mentos (The Freshmaker!) and replaced his melatonin with the candy.

We were curious to see if it was just a mental thing for him.

I placed on of these orange goodies on his plate with dinner.  Big E was immediately intrigued and not all that convinced.  He walked over and popped the top on the "melatonin" bottle.  It was filled with these new, better melatonins.

That was enough for him and he popped the Mento into his mouth.  He seemed very impressed with the flavor.

After dinner, we headed upstairs to get cleaned up and jammied.

I read an extra long excerpt from Big E's latest library book "I Survived..."  Last night it was tsunamis.

I looked over at Big E for the telltale signs that bedtime would not be an epic battle.  There was no yawning, no glassiness of the eyes, just lots of leg kicking and rolling.  Translation: I was screwed.

Fast forward 2.5 hours later and Big E is next to me in my bed, cuddling and gabbing away.

Our experiment failed big-time.  Luckily we head to the pediatrician on Monday, for Big E's check-up. 

Wednesday, January 6, 2016

Happy New Year!

I just wanted to wish all of my friends, family, and readers a Happy 2016!  I know I'm a little late, but it is taken me a few days to get back into the swing of things since our return from Florida.

2016 is a big year for the Yoys.  Mr. Yoy and I will celebrate our ten year anniversary in April. Ten Years!! Mr. Yoy informed me during our grueling drive back to Atlanta, that if I stick it out for ten years, I'll have access to his retirement accounts. So romantic, I know.

Another notable date in April, my 40th birthday. After the events of 2015, my perspective on aging is a whole lot different.  I'm so excited to be turning 40. I can vividly remember both my folks turning 40 and I can't believe it is my turn. I'm grateful to be healthy and (mostly) happy and here. Plus, thanks to my mom's advice many, many years ago, I've been slathering on Oil of Olay everyday and I think I look pretty damn good for my age.

So, in honor of the new year and the new school semester, here is a little gem for you.

Yesterday morning marked the first day back for the Yoys. I was a tad anxious because our sleeping habits over break eerily resembled my freshman year at UF. My kids were off schedule, off routine, and therefore, just off in general.

I got them to bed on time Monday night and spent the rest of the evening doing laundry, unpacking, and catching up on Modern Family.  Mr. Yoy and I did not get to bed until after 11.

I was dreaming about my hosting gig on Saturday Night Live, when I heard it.


I shot up and looked at the clock. 7:13! SH*T! We have to be out the door in seven minutes flat to make the bus.

At this point in the story I would like to point out that Big E slept no later than 6:15 the entire duration of our vacation.  He needed to be up so he could count down the minutes until he could turn on cartoons (not until 7) or "accidentally" wake up his brother. But not on Tuesday.  Tuesday he had to go to school and therefore, his plan was to sleep until noon.


I leapt out of bed. And amazingly, so did Mr. Yoy. It was like a mirage. Or a ghost.


Mr. Yoy's running commentary kept things spicy as I accelerated our morning routine into warp speed.

7:20 came and went.  But 7:23 came and then we went. Out the door.  In the 25 degree weather, sort of bundled up, while chowing down on microwaved mini-pancakes.  Not my best breakfast ever, but I needed something portable and quick.

The bus pulled up as Little E and I rounded the corner. I pleaded with him to hurry, but he lives life in slow-mo, so he sped up his pace to a brisk walk.  Big E ran ahead, without his backpack, to get in line.

But we made it. The boys on the bus. Mr. Yoy and I back to sleep in our warm, wonderful bed until nine.

And as Little E's Pre-K teacher always said, "Teamwork makes the dream work!"

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