I'm really not that busy

Finding hilarity in the mundane since 2008

Category Archives: Cooper

So That’s Why They Call Them the Golden Years

Like most four and a half year olds, Cooper is obessed with no longer being four and a half.  He’s ready to be a big kid and use his entire hand when telling people his age.  Although his fifth birthday is still over three months away, it’s still a daily topic of conversation.

Today, as Cooper and I wheeled through Wal-Mart, he noticed the giant pinatas on the party supply aisle.  After our detour to examine the pinatas, he continued to discuss their various merits for several aisle.  As we were shopping and talking, I noticed we had walked past the same older woman several times. Clearly she had noticed us as well, because on one pass she spoke to Cooper.

With a bright smile she said, “Sounds like you have a birthday coming up. How old will you be.”  Cooper held up his hand and proudly flashed her all five digits.  Then she said, “Oh, five is big, do you have a wife yet?”  He girnned and shook his head no. So she said, “You’re very handsome, you must at least have a girlfriend.”  Again, he shook his head.  Finally she said, “I’ve heard you talking your mom’s ears off, can’t you say anything to me?”  Then she flashes him a big smile.  Cooper gives her a hard look, then grins and says, “Oh my gosh! You have two gold teeth! My grandpa only has one. You must be even older than him if you have two. I’m going to have lots of gold teeth when I’m old!”

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Potty break = Fail

So I was gonna write about the lady who felt herself up while talking to me in Big Lots the other day.  But something else happened before I could get to that.  As far as disturbing goes, it’s really hard to top a grown woman grabbing her boobs and jiggling them up and down all while talking to a complete stranger, but for me, this does.

This morning Cooper and I resumed our Monday morning Wal-Mart trips.  Everything was going just like it always did.  We got some popcorn chicken, considered the popsicles and ended up choosing the same ones we always do, and smelled all the bubble baths until we found the best scent.  It was great fun.  When he’s in a good mood, Cooper is fabulous company.  When he’s in a bad mood, the sky darkens, sinkholes appear, and birds drop out of the sky plucked and charred. But that’s another post altogether.

This morning one major thing was different from the last time we had a regular school schedule.  Cooper is no longer wearing a diaper or having accidents.  Mostly.  Today there was an accident.  He ended up covered in pee.  And… it was pretty much my fault.

It was 8:35 and I was down to four items on my list.  I was silently congratulating myself for the speedy shopping trip, when everything ground to a halt.  Cooper said those words that all mamas hate to hear in public: I have to pee.  Let’s face it.  NO ONE likes to use public restrooms, but when you have to take your child into one, the dislike intensifies to revulsion.

So we went to the back of the store because they have a “family bathroom.”  I like these better than the ladies room because they have the tiny little toilets that only kids can use.  Knowing that no one took a grow-up sized dump in it or dealt with other adult hygiene issues on that toilet makes it easier for me to let my little one use it.  However, its still a public potty.  Just a very tiny one.

So Cooper went pee-pee in the potty and we clapped and danced and all the shit you do to make your kid stop wanting to wear diapers.  But, we didn’t flush because it was an automatic flusher.  Big mistake.

I guess automatic flushers don’t always recognize when little boys have peed in the potty, so it didn’t flush.  I was going to manually flush it, but I wanted to pull up his pants first.  When I went to pull up his shorts, I grabbed his belt loops and this lifted him off the ground instead of just pulling his shorts up.  That caused him to fall forward at the waist right toward the potty.  I was certain he was going face first into the piss filled bowl, but he stuck his right hand out to catch himself and it went into the bowl instead.  I was instantly relieved that he hadn’t smashed his face into a public toilet, but my relief turned to horror when I realized his open hand hitting the toilet had caused the contents to splash all over him.  His shirt was soaked, his face was wet, there were even drops clinging to his hair.  My baby was covered with Wal-Mart pee water.

I died for just a second.

Then I smiled and said, “Oops!  Let’s dry you off.”  I scrubbed his hands and face with soapy water.  Then I quickly bought the last four items on my list, went through the check-out, sped home, and threw the frozen stuff & milk into the fridge.  Then I drew him a nice big bath with his brand new bubbles.

He’s fine and hasn’t even mentioned it again.  I’m traumatized and will never again allow him to leave the house without using the potty.  Twice.

lem. on. ade.

Cooper is extremely willful.  I don’t mean normal, three-year-old, testing the limits of his control, willful.  I mean drive your mama to drink, willful.  He will go to bed complaining that he wants to play with his mini-bowling pins a little longer and when I wake him the next morning he pops up and says, “I bowl now.”  This kid is less dog with a bone, and more wolf with a filet.

So tonight we were headed out for some home cooking at Neal’s Cafe (cause Lord knows there was none to be had at our house). On the way, we asked Cooper what he wanted to eat.  He replied, “Macaroni & cheese and lemonade.”  We were immediately concerned that Neal’s might not have lemonade.  So we began a round of our favorite game: Can you outwit a three-year-old?

It started with a simple,”What if they don’t have lemonade?”

He replied, “I want to drink lemonade.”

Then I threw in a, “I bet they have Sprite.”

He replied, “I have lemonade.”

So Tony got philosophical on him and said, “If we were going to a restaurant without lemonade, what would you order to drink?”

Cooper said, “LEM. ON. ADE.” (He seriously added pauses between the syllables.  I’m so proud to be raising another smart-ass.)

I’m pretty sure he also mumbled, “You fucking idiots, what do you not understand about lemonade?”

As we were being seated, I noticed Hi-C lemonade on the soda dispenser and breathed a sigh of relief.  Then I picked up the menu and saw they only have mac & cheese on Mondays.

Anarchy for the… Kenmore?

Cooper likes to draw on the fridge with dry erase pens.  I like it too.  It’s way less messy than paint or markers (click here to see why he lost crayon privileges).  Plus I feel guilty every time I toss his artwork in the recycle.  I can leave fridge art up all week and the cleaning ladies wipe it away on Tuesday, relieving me of all mommy guilt.

Today he drew the most awesome fridge scribble ever.

To me it looks like an anarchy symbol.  It’s the perfect doodle for my little impulse driven boundary tester.

Wow Wow

Cooper is watching Wow Wow Wubbzy and eating chicken while I sit on the couch with him and waste my life away on this MacBook Pro.  It’s not exactly blog worthy stuff.  However, this little nugget is totally blog worthy.  Cooper just pointed to the TV and said, “That’s like my Mama and my Daddy.”  So I looked up and said, “Which ones?”  He replied, “The purple one is like Mama and the orange one is like Daddy.”

Oh. My. God.

Snot gonna happen

This morning Cooper and I went into school with Jack.  Cooper had a snack, a drink, and the adoration of several big kids.  He was in hog heaven.

Then, all of the sudden, he wasn’t.  He threw his biggest tantrum to date.  I refused to buy him Skittles at 8:15 a.m. and he flipped.  It took me fifteen minutes to get him out of the building because was so insane.  He’s a tiny thing, but every inch is muscle.  Snot filled muscle.  He was screaming and kicking and clear snot peppered with little green boogers was pouring out of his nose.  I didn’t care that you could hear him shrieking “SKIIIIIIIIIIIIIITLES!” all over the school.  All I could think was, “I gotta get to the tissues before I barf.”  Lord I hate snot.

Pee?  Is that all you got?

Poop? I could do a one-handed diaper change while applying mascara.

Diarrhea?  Out the diaper?  Up the back?  All over the couch? Yawn.

Vomit?  Smooth or chunky?  Whatever.

I’m a mama, my gag reflex gave up years ago.

But snot?  That’s where my skills forsake me.  I can deal with my own kids’ noses pretty well, but I have to leave the room if another kid has snot and don’t even get me started on boogers.  I remember every unpleasant snot/booger related incident I’ve ever had.  I would share a few with you, some are pretty funny, but I almost threw up just thinking about them.  Really.

The reason I haven’t been posting much lately

I thought painting would buy me twenty minutes of screen time.  It bought me five minutes to check my email, a five minute photo op, and fifteen minutes of clean-up.

*sigh*

Extreme attachment parenting

This weekend Cooper decided to become a baby pervert. On Friday he was eating some chicken. It was too hot so he said. “Blow me, mama.” Then on Saturday he unzipped my sweatshirt, looked at the t-shirt under it and said, “Is that your shirt?” I confirmed that I was indeed wearing my own clothing, to which he replied, “Take it off.”

Clearly, Cooper needs to start daycare.

Or open a strip club.

A picture’s worth 1000 blogs

In this photo I am attempting to write a post.  Cooper is sitting on my back, sans clothing, asking to watch Pinky Dinky Doo, and putting turkey bacon in my hair.  This pretty much sums up my life.
Photo 21

Baby proofing

As the mom of a toddler, something I say quite often is “No, not safe.”  Cooper is insanely curious and alarmingly reckless.  I know a few moms-to-be read my blog, so I’m putting together a list of the things you should go ahead and remove from your home before your child turns two and discovers them.

  1. Knives
  2. All silverware, actually
  3. Furniture that can be easily scaled
  4. Furniture that cannot be easily scaled (a tempting challenge if there ever was one)
  5. Just get rid of all furniture and throw some mattresses on the floor
  6. Weapons
  7. Toys that resemble weapons
  8. Toys that do not resemble weapons but can be used to hit your brother anyway
  9. Ninjas
  10. Small objects that fit in orifices
  11. Large objects that fit in orifices
  12. Hell, just sew up all orifices and put the kid on life-support until he’s five
  13. Granola bars. Really.

photo

Classy.

Yesterday I took the boys with me to vote.  I don’t vote in every little election, but a friend of ours was running for school board*, so I wanted to do my part.

A photographer from the local paper was there and he asked if he could take a photo of me while I voted.  I looked like crap, so I said that I wanted the kids in the picture to take the focus off me.  Here’s how it turned out…

photo

So instead of being a nice image of me sharing the democratic process with my children, it looks like I’m a redneck who:

a. Named her kid Cooper Cooper

b. Is not married to her baby daddy so she named her kid after herself to get her last name in there somewhere.

Classy.

* Congrats, Randy!

A letter to my youngest son

Dearest Cooper,

You are my heart, my joy, my precious little angel.  I would give my life for you.  If you ever again put crayons in my coffee, I will chaperone every dance you ever attend.

Ever Sincere,

Mama

I’m really not that busy

It’s that time again.  It’s nearly 10 a.m. and I find myself bored and feeling a bit lost.  Jack’s at school.  Cooper’s happily playing with play-doh.  The house is clean and neat.  There’s nothing good to watch, read, or browse…

…. Sorry, had to get Cooper a drink…

I know a lot of SAHMs feel there aren’t enough hours in the day, but I feel like there are about two too many.  Particularly, the hours 9-11 a.m.  This is the dull point of pretty much every day of my life…

… Had to step away for a minute.  Play-doh assistance was required…

I’ve considered putting Cooper in a Mother’s Day Out program so I could get a part-time job.  However, none of the MDOs in my area seem to be quite what I need….

… Someone wanted a cheese slice…

… DVD skipped…

… New DVD was requested…

The MDOs start at 9 and end at 2.  If I’m going to accomplish anything, I need him to be in care for the same hours Jack is in school…

… Poop…

So, daycare is out for the time being.  In the fall of 2011 he will go to pre-K…

… More play-doh assistance required…

… Apple slices necessary before starvation sets in…

… The cat jumped on the table and was licking play-doh…

… “Hugs, Mama!”…

… A fly landed on the play-doh, freak-out ensued…

… DVD ended.  Damn that one is short…

I wonder if I’ll have more to do then.

Elmo’s on a diet

In case you thought the OCD had worn off, I cleaned the fridge today. I mean, everything out, every surface wiped, scrubbed, or chiseled.

Having food all over the kitchen, must have inspired some imaginative play in Cooper. When I got everything put back together, I went hunting for him. He was in his room with a talking Elmo and all his pretend food. Elmo was babbling away and Cooper was putting food in his mouth. When he spotted me he said, “Elmo chew!”

I sat and watched. After a few minutes I noticed that Cooper was very deliberately dividing the food between Elmo and himself. He was getting all the fruit, sweets, chips, french fries, breads, and hot dogs. Elmo was getting lean meats and vegetables. Elmo’s gonna shed a few pounds.

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