Issue #4,763

Some of our dear friends in New Mexico decided that when it came to the discussion of "boy parts" with their little boys, they would use the anatomically correct terminology.

Well, their boys translated the official terminology into the term "peanuts," and the phrase stuck.

So when my very impressionable, highly linguistic 18 moth old son heard the term, he decided that it was his phrase of choice for the all-important boy-part discussions that somehow seem to come up every single day in our house.

So you can imagine the confusion that ensued when someone gave us a "Curious George Visits the Zoo" last year. In this book, The Man with the Yellow Hat buys George a bag of peanuts. George then goes on to feed the peanuts to the lions, and the giraffes, and the seals, until the zoo keeper freaks out and tells George to stop giving his peanuts to the animals. Poor George is sitting on the bench feeling very badly, until the missing zoo-bird swoops down and snatches the peanut George was holding, right out of his hands. In the end, George and his peanuts save the day.

The Entertainer has always had a funny look on his face when we read that book. But here's the worst part: I didn't even make the connection until TODAY.

We were sitting at lunch eating our peanut butter sandwiches, when the Entertainer asks, "Mommy, will I eat peanuts when I go to the zoo?"

"Sure buddy," I mindlessly respond.

"Really?" He asks. I glance up to see that his face is lost in bewilderment.

And that is when I realize that for the last year and a half, I have been giving my youngest son "issues".
I can just immagine the conversation with his therapist in 20 years. "Well my mother always read me this book about Curious George and his peanuts, only I thought she was saying penis..."

Good golly, what will happen when his first grade class takes a field-trip to the zoo for the first time? (Mental note, I better make sure to chaperon on that one... )

Oh the issues are going to run deep! My poor scarred boy, I am giving this post a number, so that you can easily pull it up when you start therapy, to work through you "peanut" issues.

Oy. It's a miracle they survive at all.

Ahh! I just had a horrible thought!!!
What does he think peanut butter sandwiches are made out of?!?!

War

Last weekend, Brandon rented "Bride Wars" for me. He is so sweet- but I do think that it is funny that when he picks up a chick flick for me, it is usually the MOST estrogen-laden/crazy woman logic movie available. And then he rolls his eyes all the way through it.

But this movie deserved it. If you haven't seen Bride Wars, don't bother. Save your money. Save your time. Save your marriage. It was so bad, that I dreamed I was fighting with my husband while I slept that night.

It was so bad that even Lifetime won't be airing it- they passed it off to the The Victims Network (AKA Oxygen.)

Anyways, the Adventurer asks the next day, "Mommy, how was your movie?"

"Ugg. It was AWFUL!" I reply.

He pauses to think. "Mommy, is Bride Wars like Star Wars, only with girls?"

I start laughing uncontrollably. "Ya, pretty much, but worse. In fact, I'd rather watch Star Wars 100 times instead of watching Bride Wars once. And I don't even like Star Wars!" (At all. I REALLY don't like Star Wars. I wont say "hate" because I HATE Bride Wars. And my distaste for Star Wars isn't remotely in the same category...)

He replies, "Ohhhhh. I see. That's why it was so bad!"

Insightful for a 5-year old. Maybe he'll be a judge yet.

(P.S., he clarified that he thought Obama is the Judge of the United States. When I told him no, that he was the president, he replied, "Oh. I want to be the Judge of the United States. The Entertainer can be president still." And then the Captain piped up and said that he still wants to be a police man, but that he won't give me any tickets for driving to fast in school zones. Sweet kids, I tell ya!)

Sanity Wears Off

Last weekend, I got a call from Kristi, informing me that Girl's Night was coming up. Unfortunately, it was the same night that I was working until 11 pm.

But the idea of having some girl-time sounded like fun, so I threw back an energy drink, and spent about an hour and a half with some good friends.

I got home at about 1 am. I was just falling asleep when Lilly woke up to eat. An hour later, she was back in bed, and I was just falling asleep when the Adventurer woke up with a horrible cough. Some medicine, a drink of water, the humidifier, and a hot-water bottle later, I checked the clock and discovered that it was now 3 am.

I fell into bed, goaning about how tired I would be in 3 and a half hours.

But the next morning, the most horifing thing happened.

I didn't feel any different from any other day.

I think that is when I realized: I have been perpetually exhausted for the last 6 years.

No wonder I started throwing back Rock Star energy drinks when the Adventurer was about one. (It was really hard to get off the juice when we decided to try for the Entertainer. It's Liquid Speed, I tell ya, and I LOVE it!) But alas, the exhaustion has been a part of my life for so long, I am dismayed to realize that I have begun to think it is normal... Turns out you don't get less tiered with more kids, you just get crazier.

Disclaimer #1: I've never actually taken speed. But, as the side effects include weight loss and a lot of energy, I do wonder why it is illegal...

Disclaimer #2: I think that originally this blog post had a point, but given that I have now realized the extent of my perpetual exhaustion, I forgot where I was going with it, and I'm just giving into the crushing haze that is telling me I should probably go to bed.

I will return when the energy drink high kicks back in... (insert crazy-woman laugh! Mmmmwaahahaha!)

LaLaLa

What my two- year-old sings while in the bathroom.

(No kidding, especially when it is #2 time.)