Either I’ve been delusional and those grey hairs aren’t coming in too early or there’s something about shopping with a toddler that brings on a fatigue unmatched by any college-era, there-’til-closing night at the bars.

J, Little Sis, Cousin T and I went to Wisconsin Dells to pay homage to the outlet mall, and instead of being excited about all my purchases at the end of the day, I was drained, and I only had six ramikins, five pairs of underwear, four Oshkosh-emblazoned items, two baking sheets and one squiggly, wiggly child to show for it.  A squiggly, wiggly child that spilled milk all over his lap, chanted “NO!” loudly at the family seated to our left and spent all of the leftover time at Denny’s trying to get out of the booster seat and screeching over Cousin T’s touys. A squiggly, wiggly child that only got 45 minutes of good naptime on the drive back and STILL rattled the bars of his crib-jail until 9 p.m.

Now, I’m so overtired I can’t sleep.  I’m calling it a shopping hangover.  I’m ignoring the fact that I could just be getting old.

Tags: hangover, shoppping, toddler

I’ve been happily occupied–working, taking care of the J man and, as the title suggests, going on a playdate.

I have to confess: after I complained about it here ad nauseum,  J was invited for a weekly date by our neighbor/sitter AND for another date with the son of a colleague.  That last one won’t start yet, but we’ll be in contact in a few weeks.  Yay!  Today was the first, and although my face is burned and J consumed at least a cup of sand (must watch for worms in stool, yech), it was wonderful.

J was tired, T got some alone time and I got a nap after I put J in bed for his afternoon nap.  I even talked T into putting the piece of tin that was torn off the shed’s roof this winter back in place.  It’s, like, perfect.

AND I sold another bunch of announcements, designed another announcement template and TOOK pictures…just in time for the Thursday Theme: Childhood.

Tags: announcements, photo announcements, photography, playdate, toddler

‘Cause this is the last week of school, and I’d rather skip it.  Horrible to admit, isn’t it?  I am a teacher, after all.  I’m supposed to want to wring every last drop of learnin’ out of every single minute.  Hah.  Maybe I would, if the kids hadn’t spent all of last week trying to invent new and unique ways to get out of their seats.

I’m tired.

Yeah, here I am, whining, when many of you are either looking forward to having a full summer at home with kidlets who leave toy and sand-laced detritus trails of their own all over your house OR actually have to get up most mornings of the summer to go to work.

After next week’s round of summer school, J will be my alarm clock most mornings, which is way better than the shrill screech I normally wake up to at 5 a.m.

(Maybe that’s why I’m tired…getting up at 5 a.m., working until 3:30, rushing around after J for a few hours at home and then settling back in for homework by 7 p.m, it’s a long day.  Maybe not the longest in the world, but I’m a whiner at heart.)

I’m looking forward to my days at home:  gardening (which, at this point, is mostly just tilling and pulling weeds), strawberry jam-making, photo card designing, camera-toting, blog reading and playing Sims 2.  And taking care of the J man, of course.

My lord.  If that’s all that happens this summer, you’re in for a load of boredom if you plan on reading this during the next few months.

Wait.

Strike that.

Beginning the first day after summer school, we’re starting a new chapter in our lives.

Potty training.

Yeah.  Poop, pee and angst.  I’m sure it’ll be not only disgusting, but strangely fascinating for you all, too.  Stay tuned.

Tags: potty training, summer, toddler

It’s not really a pompadour, but I happen to like alliteration, so pompadour it is.  J’s been sickly the last week  or so–even though I’d thought we were finished with that snotty nose and fever business.  Because he’s sickly, his appetite just isn’t where it should be, although his sense of play is slightly elevated.  Consequently, any fun, sticky-yet-fluffy food that comes within his reach is destined to become fodder for the camera.

This is the highlight of my Mother’s Day.  Happy BSM!

Tags: Best Shot Monday, BSM, dinner, food, toddler

Tags: balloons, birthday, photography, toddler

I thought I was smart. I thought I was sensible. I thought I was capable.

I thought wrong.

Despite the fact that T was in school last week Wednesday and I was in charge of the feeding and care of the the boy, I scheduled a haircut. Normally, I schedule them weeks in advance because I know me. If I don’t schedule the next appointment before I walk out of the salon, I won’t call until I feel like I need a cut IMMEDIATELY. Unfortunately, for some reason I didn’t schedule in advance last time, so I couldn’t be choosy with either the time or stylist.

Sigh. I like my stylist. I really do. I just wish everyone else liked her a little less.

So, the day of the appointment came, and I nervously stashed toys and and J’s favorite Raffi DVD in his tote. Hand in hand, we walked into the salon to the chorus of the usual high-pitched baby-adoration noises and I set his tote down in the children’s area, which was stocked with a TV, chairs and lots of toys.

“Julie! Come on over!” my stylist enthused.

Shit. The over she spoke of is not within viewing distance of the kidlet nook. I forgot…since I didn’t schedule my appointment early and didn’t get my normal stylist, I was stuck in a chair in the opposite corner of the salon.

So, I grabbed J like the 25 pound sack of potatoes he his, and carried him along with me to the chair. Yes, J sat on my lap for the 20 minutes it took to cut my hair.

Well, butcher my hair is more like it.

I have to say, I didn’t give great directions because I was more concerned with keeping the boy still enough so the stylist didn’t chop of her finger. But still, she’s done my hair before. Before, when it was my preferred big and bushy. Back when people said things like, “I love that cut, Julie!” Not like now when they say, “Did you…do something with your hair?”

She took off way too much. Way. I’m not one for much fussing with it–I usually dry it while reading blogs, arrange the bangs in the bathroom mirror and go. Now, just so that it won’t look like I stuck my finger in a light socket, I must scrunch carefully, dry on low speed and low heat, spray, scrunch some more, arrange, curl and spray some more.

And, after all that effort?

Ehh.

Just ehh.

I wish I were a little kid again and I could take a scissors to my hair and everyone would just think it was the most interesting thing ever. Why did I have to grow up?

Tags: hair, salon, toddler