He gets it from his father....

My son. Ahhh, my son. I wonder about the boy sometimes, where he gets his ideas from... yeah, yeah, I know it is the old nature versus nurture argument...but still I do wonder where he gets it all...

We recently took a trip to Disney World and while waiting in line to ride the Teacups we found ourselves behind a full figured gal. It was a warm day but she was wearing tight stretchy glittery jean and a long sleeve electric blue top...she was disco ready, and Maddox could not take his eyes off her. As there is not much to do in line but stare at each other I stared at Maddox while he stared at the woman in front of us. All of the sudden, out of no where my son reaches up and pokes this lady in the bottom! Now I realize that his head was level with her very ample and glittery bottom, but come on now! You are four years old, so I immediately began to reprimand him and remind him that we keep our hands to ourselves. The woman didn't turn around and I don't know if she felt it or was embarrassed that this kid had just touched her, so I lowered my head to Mad and asked him why he did that and this is what he said... or rather this is what he SANG:

"BOOTY, BOOTY, BOOOOOOTTAAAYYY!"

I die. I just like to think that since she didn't turn around maybe she didn't realize what was going on...but he sure did like that Boooottaaayyyy.

The Loo

Privacy? That is so B.C., you know, 'Before Children'. My husband recently asked why I always lock the door when I take a bath. I answered him with a stunner- "Because it is the only privacy I get anymore!"

Yes, I realize the husband would like a peek. But come on people, I poop most days with a child sitting on my lap. Or at least standing 6 inches from me, staring, asking if I am done and what I am going to do next. At the very least, if I lock the door quick enough, screaming ensues from the other side.

There is nothing sacred in the A.D., that would be 'After Delivery' to you.

The munchkins stand outside the shower door. They sit on the counter while you do your makeup, at your feet while you do your hair. When you do have a moment to yourself, perhaps in the car, you may drive a good half hour before you realize that you have been singing along to that Wiggles CD and there is not a child in sight. And for instance there is a child sticking his head up between my hands as I type this, all the while screaming at his sister....and truthfully I don't mind. But the pooping by myself, yeah, that would be nice.