Get the bird and run.

This week was Pet Week at Zeke's school. Oh my. Now we're talking. By now, Zeke's teacher knows I'm a "pet person" and has bonded with me over one or two furry friend stories. You see, she's a...gulp...HORSE OWNER!!! jfasdopbniopaertnjaop!!!!!! God knows I'm ready for a few tea parties at her house. So anyway, Teacher Michele had the SPCA visit Zeke's class this week with a few adoptable pets for the children to meet. In addition to the SPCA visit, Teacher Michele wanted the next best thing to visit the school - a representative from the Zeke Zoo. No problem I said. Would she like a furry or feathered friend I inquired. She chose a feathered friend, so yesterday I obliged. Wow was that a massacre. It started out easy enough. I transferred the new bird, Stuart, into a small cage and tucked him into my SUV. He wasn't quite sure where we were going, which I later found out was quite to his benefit. Upon arriving at the school, I signed into the visitor's log and headed down to Zeke's classroom. As I opened the preschool door, it got prehistoric. Tots came running from all corners of the room. The snack time that they were enjoying was forgotten, yet still clinging to their dirty, sticky fingers as they poked and prodded at Stuart's little cage. (The worst part??? My Dooney & Bourke purse was getting ALLLL kinds of nastiness on it from the greasy popcorn they were all eating! Not too cool, lil' guys.) I tried to hold the cage above their reach, but the weight of 10 preschoolers was pulling me down into their makeshift mosh pit. I felt myself starting to fall into them, when finally the teachers wrestled the mob to the ground. I gathered myself, straightened my hair and Stuart's feathers, checked the lipstick, and proceeded to circle time where Stewie and I were the center of attention. After a brief speech about the care of tiny Stu, the class was supposed to line up one-by-one to come up and take a "close look" at Stuart. Then the Big Fakeout happened. Yeah, they lined up. Yeah, they started to come up one by one. Then suddenly it turned ugly. It was an angry mob of preschoolers on Pop Rocks and Coca-Cola. They hit, they shoved, and I actually saw one little girl reach for the EYES of another little boy. She literally wanted to claw his eyes out - and in a Quaker School!!!! All for the love of Stuart. It was then that I realized I had to grab my bird, my bag and go...and not necessarily in that order if you know how much I treasure my purses.

So, as Pet Week comes to an end and I look back upon the beauty of the lessons taught to my son this week, I reflect upon what I've taken away from it all: when facing a classroom of preschoolers, wear protective gear and carry an old purse. Oh, and also, if you are lonely and can provide a loving home, don't forget to check out your local shelter - there's tons of love waiting to be adopted. That's how we found this special guy:

But I can't help falling in love with yooouuuuu.

I'm a sucker. A real sucker. I fall in love so easily. And I'm always the one who does all the work in these type of relationships. Take today for instance. I just ran into the store to pick up a few things. And there HE was. He was very handsome. Just sitting there with his friends, a little on the shy side, but confident nonetheless. I go for the strong but silent type, I guess you could say. I kept to myself for a while, pretending to shop, looking down the aisles, then peeking back up at him every now and then. Every time I looked up, our eyes met. I blushed, but he just cackled a bit under his breath...he knew he had me. He knew he'd be sleeping under my roof tonight. So, low and behold, here he is folks, the newest man in my life. Let me introduce the extremely handsome, smart, and pretty damn sexy....Stuart Kane:

Welcome to the Kane Zoo, Stuart. You'll be happy with all of our furry and feathered friends. You sexy man, you.

I wonder if Pauly knows yet...

Something happened along the way.

Strange things come out of Zeke's mouth. I'm always amazed at how inappropriate and how downright untimely they are too. Take for instance:

1. I Craigslisted his toddler bed a few weeks ago. Finally, someone wanted to buy it and they stopped in this past weekend to check it out. I was really hoping they'd take it since it's been sitting in my spare bedroom for what seems like an eternity. Just as they were getting ready to hand over the pesos, Zeke chimes in with "I think you're getting this for really cheap...you should buy it." Now, I've got to hand it to him, his sales tactics were pretty suave, but I just didn't need a 3-year-old getting in the middle of my sale at that point.

2. Again, I had a Craigslist deal happening with my old living room furniture. The potential buyers were supposed to have been at my house at 4:30 last Friday evening. Well, as it turns out, they didn't show up until 7:20. I was very, very annoyed because much of my Friday night was tied up waiting to get rid of furniture that I was about 8 years WAYYYY over tired of. I just wanted it out of my sight. As the buyers were hauling out the furniture, Zeke proceeded to say "why were you so late? My mommy was very annoyed that you kept us waiting so long." Ummmm...couldn't he have waited until the cash had traded hands???

3. Ok, here's a strange one. Zeke and I were having a catch with a tennis ball. The ball missed his hands and hit the top of his foot. He said to me "ouch, you need to watch out. You hurt my taco bells." I asked him what a taco bell was and he pointed to the tops of his feet. ?????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????

4. And finally, to top it all off and to solidify the fact that I'm raising a caveman...he just walked in as I'm typing and asked me if he could pee in the office garbage can. I'm really just treading water here folks...

Lovin' Valentine's Day...

Valentine's Day 2009. I'm a sucker for Valentine's Day, I admit it. Maybe because I have an awesome hubby who always remembers the necessities to make it a perfect day. First of all, I like to celebrate V-Day over about 2 to 4 days - not just one. Which makes it perfect that for 3 days in a row, Pauly brought me home surprises! First, he surprised me with Wii Fit, which I've wanted for a few months now. I'm so excited to have it, but Zeke is monopolizing it. Whatevs. Next, go figure, Pauly brought home some awesomely decadent chocolates! Thank God for Wii Fit. Then, while I was out with Zeke on Friday, Pauly dropped these at home:

To top it all off, on Saturday, we had Brynne (our babysitter) come over at 5 and hold down the fort while we took off for downtown Media. We browsed some of the boutique shops then had a wonderful dinner at a great little place called Picasso.

I have the best husband ever. I'm a lucky girl. Thanks for a great Valentine's Day Pauly. Yet again. XOXOXOXOXOXO

The Game

I can't believe my last post was so long ago. My blog is pretty important to me since it's become one of my main avenues for tracking my life with Zeke. So what's been up with us? Nothing much except...

Lately Zeke has been a handful. And not a fun one. He's testing me, testing my authority, and pushing the boundaries every chance he finds. For one, he likes to wear his winter gloves in the house and pretend they're boxing gloves. This doesn't amuse me. It mostly doesn't amuse me when the winter gloves go on and he starts boxing me while I'm trying to cook dinner, type on my blog, talk on the phone, or simply live my life. Another time the gloves bother me:

He enjoys eating with his gloves on. And his Incredible Hulk hat on. And apparently not much else. I swear, this kid DOES have clothes. Lots of them. In fact, it's tough to get his dresser drawers shut sometimes when I'm all caught up on the laundry. But, Zeke likes to accessorize his birthday suit most times. And I've learned something in the 3-plus years that I've known him: don't sweat the small stuff. Unless it's going to inflict severe bodily injury (and it must be really severe, as in: severed limb, concussion, loss of consciousness, or involving the loss of many pints of blood...you get my drift), I will not argue with The Toddler. Here's how it goes in my world with The Toddler: "oh, you don't want to put on your winter coat even though it's -36 degrees out with gusty winds, hail, and drifting snow? Ok, when you get cold, I'll have it waiting." It's just not worth the argument. And for him, my lack of reaction takes all the fun out of the game. So, he wears the hat and gloves at meal times. And he actually gets cold sometimes when he tries to push my buttons and refuses the coat. All in all, he's still healthy and growing and thriving. It's me I'm not so sure about sometimes...

Gimme all your nuts or I'll bite your tail off.

So, I'm wondering what the little, gray squirrel to the left thought when he meandered on up to the big pile of birdseed on my deck yesterday afternoon. He's been feasting on our birdseed for weeks now, just hogging it all up and scaring away many of the tiny finches that flutter around it trying to catch a quick bite. But today? Today was different. Someone new (look on the table to the far right) has moved into our hood. And little, gray squirrel doesn't look so confident anymore, does he? And, after reading this I can see why. Apparently Mr. Black Squirrel is a butt-kicker who's a bit out of his element living here in PA. Out of his element or not, it seems to me that he's made himself right at home and he's ready to rumble with Mr. Gray if he doesn't tone down the 'tude a bit. I'm just wondering how far into their feathery pockets the finches had to reach to get Mr. Black to rock Mr. Gray's world..

Why'd you doodie that to me????

Yesterday Zeke and I went to Mom Mom Mare's and Poppy's for our usual Thursday Romp. We never really know where we're going to end up, but Zeke doesn't care - as long as he gets to hang out with them, he's happy. Well, it ended up that we went outlet shopping in Lancaster (best BARGAIN ever...but that's a whole different post) and in the middle of everything, Zeke ended up with a bellyache. Needless to say, Zekey-poo had to do poopie. Since it was very early in the shopping trip, I told him he had to go into the restroom and well, go poopie. He refused. The ONLY two places for #2 in Zeke's mind are his own house or Mom Mom Mare's house. WHY IS THIS????? The mechanics of the situation are the same, everything goes to the same place, and the end result is the same, isn't it??? But no. Zeke refuses. Refuses so vehemently that yesterday he literally VOMITED IN THE MIDDLE OF A STORE. Yep. So much doodie built up in his system that it came out his throat. So, it's not a lie people. Your mom didn't fib when she told you you'd really, really get sick if you didn't get to a potty when you had to go. Zeke puked in the middle of a store aisle and I honestly believe it's because he was holding in his "stuff". Not good. Not good that I had to run him to a public restroom with his sweatshirt covering half his face so he wouldn't destroy even more of the store's floor, not good that his poor belly was revolting so terribly against him, and not good that when we finally got back to Mom Mom Mare's house he pooped so much that I thought her plumbing would be damaged. Here's a word of advice people: put your public restroom fears aside, carry some disposable potty covers in your purse, and learn to poop on the fly. The human body is a machine. Food goes in and junk needs to come out. Even the pope poops. Live with it. And Zeke, from now on, you're gonna' poop in public restrooms whether you like it or not...if I have to squeeze it out of you.

Clothing optional.

Naked is the new black. Or at least Zeke thinks so. Every time I'm not looking, the kid strips off all of his clothes. We go to the supermarket, fully dressed, come home, I'm carrying in the bags and within 2 minutes he's running around the garage naked. I pick him up from school, we pull up to the house and I see him start to take off his shoes and socks. By the time he's through the door and into the house, he's got his pants unbuttoned. In 30 seconds flat, he's naked. The other day, my brother Chris stopped over, sits down to start talking to me, and in walks Zeke completely naked. All he said was "hi Uncle Chris." Now in the past, I've been infuriated, embarrassed, and downright insulted by the fact that my son will not heed my warnings to keep his clothes on during the day. But lately, as this has become more and more frequent, and, well, let's be honest, as I see his little private parts fluttering about on such a normal basis (say, while I'm emptying the garbage or folding the whites...) I've come to realize that I may just be getting angry because I'm actually...gulp...jealous. Do I want to feel the freedom that Zeke feels when he strips himself of all his clothes at 1:30 on a Tuesday afternoon? Am I secretly just harboring some inner hatred of his carefree attitude about his body? Is it his lack of body consciousness that I want so badly for myself???? WELLLLL, IS IT NANCY???? I think it is. So, I'm calling a truce with Naked Zeke. He can roam Au Naturel for as long as he likes, conditions and company permitting. While he enjoys his freedom, I think I'll try to learn a thing or two from him. I'll start by removing my Spanx when I get in the shower...

Happy birthday, please pass the tissues.

Last night we had a party to go to for one of Pauly's work colleagues. It was a 40th b-day party/housewarming party. It was one of those things that has been on the calendar for about a month and I've been wondering if we really had to go to it, secretly hoping we didn't. I know that sounds horrible, but I also know you ALL know what I'm talking about. Well, we went, and to my surprise I was happy that we did. Now, don't get me wrong, I didn't enjoy myself. I literally knew only one person and that was the birthday boy. I was uncomfortable and feeling out of sorts in addition to still battling a sinus infection. I really just wanted to be home in bed in my comfy, toasty pj's watching a movie. I muddled through and when we finally got in the car to go home I realized that the birthday honoree was truly very happy to have seen us show up for his celebration. And then I thought of something else: this life I'm living is moving quickly. Like flying on by at warp speed. And if I don't go out of my way to do special things for the people who happen to have dropped into my world for one reason or another, then I will have lived my life in a very selfish little bubble. I will have never known the good feeling I get when someone says "thanks for coming to my party" - and the look on their face tells you that they truly mean those words. So, schnotty nose or not, I made it through last night and actually ended up the better for it. Maybe my mom did teach me a thing or two. Just don't tell her I said so...