What Happens at the Splash Park, Stays and the Splash Park

I love splash parks! They are the greatest invention. Swimming without worrying about drowning. Awesome!

Something I have noticed about splash parks in my daily trips.

The kids love them too. More precisely they love the jets that shoot from the ground.

Where there is a jet, there is a little one squatting or sitting on it and an embarrassed mom gently trying to shoo them off without drawing attention to herself.

The kids line up, waiting their turn for a jet squat. My darling little Jonas is a jet hog. He doesn't let anyone else have a turn. Apparently he has discovered that a nice powerful stream of cool water feels good on the junk. I am the embarrassed parent who gave up on shooing him off and just sits on the bench mortified, yet trying not to snicker.

Repeated Conversation with a Crazy Pregnant Lady over a 12 Hour Car Trip

Katrina: Did you turn the AC off again?!?

John: Sheepish look

Katrina: If you touch the AC again I am going to break your finger off!

John: Shivering uncontrollably But it is freeeeeezing.

Katrina: Smiling sweetly Better frozen than minus digits.

If Only I Were as Funny

I read "The Toddler Contract" in a parenting magazine at my sis-n-law's house.

These are the highlights:

I. Food

5. For dinner I will have macaroni and cheese. Any attempts to give me vegetables in addition to the macaroni and cheese will result in tears.

a. And don't you dare hide anything in the cheese sauce, because, my God, how you will rue the day.

II. Television

1. The TV will be on all the time unless I say differently. You are to sit by my side, quietly, hands folded in lap, while I watch my shows.

a. You may arise to fetch me a snack.

III. Toys.

1. There will be many.

a. They will always be strewn about the house so that I amay simply reach down and pick up a toy, no matter where I am.

b. They will be loud, complicated, and contain many small pieces. I enjoy shooting noises that go w-shoooooop! or zim zim zim.

c. Nothing that results in any type of learning, please.

Thank you Parenting magazine writer, Alice Bradley, where ever you may be, for giving me a little chuckle.

I Never Gave My Cat a Name; How Can I Name a Baby?

Naming kids is the hardest thing ever. It has to be a meaningful name, something the kid will be proud of, live up to. The first, middle and last name need to sound good when said all together. You don't want to give the kid the same name as half of the other babies his age. Sheesh. So much pressure. I hate it.

Here are some names I have been rolling around in my brain.

William Marquis Walker (Marquis is a family name on John's side it is pronounced "mark - us". Always liked it and wanted to use it as a middle name, but as you will read later, it has its issues.)

or the other way around

Marquis William Walker (then his teachers will never pronounce his name correctly)

I have issues with William which are too long and too stupid to discuss.

Love the name Fynn, but how to put it with Marquis.
Fynn Marquis - doesn't flow,
Marquis Fynn - going by middle name is always confusing,
Phineus Marquis- sounds ridiculous.

My mom suggested I use her maiden name as a name, Lewis. Not bad. But again it doesn't go with Marquis very well. "Lewis Marquis Aurelius"

Then there is Aiden. Always loved this name. It has been on the top 10 baby names list for as long as I have been naming kids though.

Or maybe Lucas. He could go by Luke and his middle name could be Sky. Luke Sky Walker!

A Few More Confessions

I watch R rated movies and I like them.

I also read "dirty" books.

I don't watch or read trash. It must be "praiseworthy and of good report."

Life isn't rated PG. Most of life's most profound and meaningful moments are rated R.

Yakkity Yak

I remember when Kate first started cooing. We grabbed the video camera and tried to immortalize her cute little voice.

Now, I wish I could find the duct tape.

Nasty Little Bastards!!!!

Kate has been getting bug bites since we moved here. She only got them once in a while and at first we attributed them to the fire ants in our front yard. However, last time she got them she hadn't been in the front yard.

So, I began searching her room. I got the flash light, pulled the bed out from the wall and searched for the guilty party. I expected to find a spider. No, not a spider, a weird little flat bug with his nose buried in the carpet. I scooped the little guy up in a princess teacup, and took him into John and the computer.

Hmmm, not a beetle, not a flea, not a brown dog tick, a BED BUG!!!! What in the hell?!?!?!?!? I feel the bile rising to the surface.

As we continue to educate ourselves on everything bed bug, from the history to the methods of extermination, my nausea increases and I am on the verge of tears. Apparently the little bastards can survive for over a year with out a "blood meal." They just hide in a crack somewhere and wait for a new warm body to show up. They were most likely lying in wait when we moved into the house. (At least I don't remember picking up any used mattresses off the side of the road?)

After about 1/2 an hour of John researching and reporting the gruesome details, I am ready to start a bonfire in the backyard, burn all of our furniture, and move to a new house.

When I told John my plans, he said, "No."

The good news is: 1) we must not have a lot of them because we can't find all the other signs, like spotted mattress and walls from the little bastards' poop. 2) They generally don't spread to the rest of the house. 3) If they are in the bedding and stuffed animals all we have to do is pop them in the dryer for a few minutes and burn the little bastards and their spawn up. 4)John can spray the floor and walls once a week for a while and they should be taken care of.

I have quarantined Kate's room, she is now sleeping in the guest room, and I am dreaming of bed bugs the size of golf balls attacking me while I try and beat them to death with a sippy cup.