Another 'Out of the mouths of babes' Casey anecdote...(Warning - the topic this time is 'penises')

Kids say the darndest things! Especially 5 year-old boy kids! A conversation with Casey from a few mornings ago...

Casey: "Mommy! Girls don't have penises!"

Me: "That's right, Casey. That's one of the ways that girls and boys are different."

Casey: "But Mommy, do you know what that means?"

Me: "What?"

Casey: "That means that girls have one less bone than boys do!"

I started to fumble my way through an explanation and then I stopped and said, "You go ask Daddy to talk with you about this". I mean, really. I've given up my Super Mom ways. I DON'T have to do it all! :)

Insomnia Sucks!!

Insomnia sucks. I don't get it. I'm on the go all day. By 7:30 pm, I'm barely functioning. I'm counting the seconds until the kids go to bed because I am wiped out. I have no energy left to do anything that I need to do (laundry, dishes, etc.) and sadly and with certainty, no energy left to do anything pleasurable just for me (Photoshop, scrapbooking, etc.). I can't keep my eyes open so I either fall asleep on the couch, or - with great effort and feeling so hard done by, I make my way up to bed. I have no problem falling asleep. The first time. But come 3 am, sometimes not until 4 am, and last night - as damn early as 1 am - I wake up. Not for any reason except that it is time. Time to wake up and lie there. Awake. And tired. But unable to sleep. Uncomfortable. Tossing. Turning. Getting up to pee. Getting up again for water. Getting up again to go back down to the couch in the hopes that this time, the couch might actually be the final, magical solution. Doing some Sudoko. Flipping through a magazine. Working on a crossword. Just lying there doing nothing. And I can't sleep! I try not to look at the time because I don't want to know how much time is left before I have to get up. Thinking that even if I get back to sleep and end up having to wake up in twenty minutes, if I don't know that it was only twenty minutes, I might be able to tell myself it was a longer, more significant amount of time and therefore feel the benefits! And the most frustrating thing about not being able to sleep is that I am tired. And although I consider doing something just so as not to be lying there getting increasingly frustrated, and I toy with the idea of doing something purely indulgent that I most often do not have the time to do, I can't bring myself to bother doing anything because I am too tired to do anything. INCLUDING sleep, it seems! That's the only damn thing I want to be doing at 1 or 3 or 4 a.m. Aaarrgh!!! Am I insane?! It's absolutely maddening!! And what is happening now is that I am beginning to obsess about my sleep patterns in my waking hours. And I try not to because I don't want to give these issues any more power than they already have, but I'm painfully, stressfully, strainingly tired and I can't ignore it! So I start worrying about tonight. What if it happens tonight?! It can't possibly because I am beyond tired now, and yet...maybe it could happen. Maybe it will happen. And then what?! Good God! And I mean, please...I NEED my beauty sleep! Like, REALLY badly! There's nothing worse than feeling like a hag inside and then getting a look at yourself in the mirror only to realize that you actually look like that inner hag! On the outside! This is all too much for me. Truly. What's the answer...the magic solution?! Wine? Ativan? Sex? Exercise? Meditation? All of the above, not necessarily in that order?! I just don't know. And - I'm too tired to even be thinking about it. So - another evening is upon me and I'll be giving it another shot. Maybe this phase is passing and I won't have to spend another day at work nodding off in mid-task then looking around in panic, desperately hoping that nobody noticed! Another evening of praying that in the two hours or so that I spend with my children between dinner time and bedtime, I can muster some enthusiasm and humour. Rustle me up some patience and energy with which to savour this quality time...

Wow. This is turning into quite the melodramatic sob story! Must just be my diminished, fragile, sleep deprived state of mind. Oh lawd, I can't stop! It's time for me to cut and run! Here's hoping for an inspirational turn around for tomorrow! Night night! Sleep tight!

A joke, by Casey...(WARNING! Flatulence is key theme...)

Yes, that's right. This entry is about flatulence. Well, actually - it's not directly about flatulence, but like a lot of things in my household it seems, flatulence plays a key role...

Anyway, today was a 'work' morning for me and so I was up extra early, doing my thing - trying to get ready and out of the house on time. A MAJOR challenge and accomplishment, I might add!! So just Casey was up - he seems to listen for me on the mornings I have to work and, as he at one time announced to Grandma Margaret, he is an early riser, so he was up with me (which I love, although the boy needs more sleep than he gets!! But, it's nice having some one-on-one time with him to start the day while the house is quiet!) I digress! (So unusual, I know! ;) ) So Casey asks me for some cereal. I had bought one of those Kelloggs assorted packs of mini boxes of cereal (NOT something I do very often at all! SUGAR cereals! Yuck! Big no no!) so I offered him a choice. He picked 'Corn Pops' (the 'assortment' had quickly been reduced to either that, or Rice Krispies! I mean, come on, we all know that the Fruit Loops go first!!) and of course, he wanted to eat it out of the box like you're meant to when you're camping, so I mutter under my breath about Steve ever showing Casey that option - I'd have never started that, grump, grump, grump...I then spend too many precious minutes finding a (dull like all the others) but clean (unlike all the others) knife to slice the box open because of course, there are no 'kitchen' scissors to be found (they are off galavanting with the better halves of all the kids socks in the land of 'Lost & Never Never Found' apparently...), and serve him his little cavity-causing, diabetes-inducing treat of Corn Pops for breakfast. He's munching away, happy as a sugary little clam, while I am slapping on my makeup, when - in the hushed quiet of our 'just Mommy and me' morning moment, he let's out a huge, long, reverberating, classic Casey toot. (Yes, that's right - in my house we still call them 'toots' - 'farts' just sounds too harsh and raunchy for my delicate sensibilities...). I glance over at him, one eyebrow raised, with an 'are you kidding me?! And where are your manners?!' look. Casey looks back at me, not sheepish or remorseful at all, and says,"Now I know why they call them 'Corn POPS'!". And just like that, our 'nice' morning together has been transformed into a 'magical' morning - my precious, brown-eyed baby boy has just made his first 'official' sophisticated joke! A 'mark it on the calendar' moment! And all because of a...toot!