Moobs

The other day my 3 year old was in the bathroom as I got out of the shower. We only have one bathroom and have been pretty open with our nakedness. The jury is still out on whether this will scar my boys or make them have a good body image. Get back to me in 15 years. Anyway he looked up at me and said, "Mama, are you chubby?". Now I know I've been eating a lot of Easter candy lately, but I didn't think it had effected my waistline that much. I asked him what made him think that. He replied, "Daddy said only chubby people have boobies". I couldn't wait to find out what my husband had been telling the boys. It turns out they were asking him if boys have "boobies". He answered that only chubby boys have boobs. Great-----sometimes I don't think my husband thinks before he opens his mouth. Doesn't he realize that the things he thinks are funny are repeated by the little ones to people who don't think they are that funny. I have a girlfriend who says she is saving for her son's therapy instead of higher education. Maybe I should open an account.
p.s.
Moobs = man boobs

Easter Candy

Okay - I love candy - it is a real weakness for me. And for some reason Easter is the hardest time for me. At the beginning of the holiday season (Halloween) I have pretty good will power. I buy the candy I don't like and my kids are big sorters so there is no stealing their stash. But by the time Easter rolls around my will power has dissolved. As I write this I'm eating chocolate eggs and jellybeans that were meant for my kids' baskets. I even had an internal conversation with myself as I bought the candy how I was not going to eat it, but I had the bag busted open before I reached my exit. One year I decided not to buy any candy until the day before Easter in the hopes that I would not eat my weight in candy. It was a great plan except that my son's favorite book that year was Owen's Marshmallow Chick. It is a cute little story by Kevin Henkes (one of my favorite authors) about a mouse who gets all this yummy candy in his basket, but his favorite is a little yellow marshmallow chick. So all my oldest wanted the Easter bunny to bring him was one of those yucky peeps. I love candy, but I cannot understand the world's fascination with peeps. The only time I like marshmallows are when they are roasted over a campfire. But I digress- it is the day before Easter and I can't find one stupid peep. I guess I'm the only one who finds them revolting. By the time I hit my 4th store I'm totally frustrated. I end up buying an overpriced yellow chick with frosting features. Yuck. So Easter is saved that year but I decide not to wait until the last minute to buy Easter candy. I have yet to figure out a way to keep me out of the candy. I'm thinking about locking it in our detached garage.

Getting started

It seems like my friends and I have a lot of funny insights to this thing called parenting. So I thought it would be fun to write it all down. Maybe this will help other parents - you can learn from my mistakes. I know one thing for sure and that is that raising boys seems whole lot different than raising girls. And when you put my husband into the mix that just adds more fuel (or testosterone) to the fire. I feel like a smack down wrestling referee most days. So here goes my first attempt at blogging. Wish me luck.