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Last night I presented Jonas with a new Star Wars t-shirt and he exclaimed, “A new space shirt?!” I had to explain that it wasn’t just any space shirt but a Star Wars t-shirt. Then to my further embarrassment I had to remind him of the Lego Star Wars game daddy and I play and made a mental note to buy the damn movies already because this is just pitiful. He loved the shirt and said he wanted to wear it tomorrow and show Gramma.

He then picked out his jammies while I was in my room putting clothes away and called for help. “Buddy, you can put on your jammies,” I call back, “You do it all the time.” “But, I just need help!” So I called him into my room and he ran in (because he can’t slow down long enough to walk) wearing nothing but his Mickey Mouse underpants carrying his jammies. I helped him put them on while made this little squawking noise he does when he’s trying to be cute. “Mommy, I really yike you.” “I really like you, too, buddy.” “You’re my sweet baboo.” “No, you’re MY sweet baboo.” “I am NOT your sweet baboo!”

I asked him if he wanted to say goodnight to Daddy and then called Matt. Holding the phone to his ear, he greeted his father with, “Good night, daddy!” and handed the phone back to me. “No, Jonas, I think Daddy wants to talk to you some more.” He chatted a little bit; telling daddy that he got a new puzzle at gramma’s house and put it together all by himself then with typical Jonas Phone Etiquette abruptly ended the conversation. “Bye. I yuv you.” And handed me the phone.

After his bedtime story, he demanded hugs and kisses. We hugged and kissed then I started kissing him all over his face until he was giggling like crazy. “Ok, good night, Jojo.” “Good night, mommy.” “I love you.” “I yuv you, mommy.”

About 20 minutes later, I leave his sister’s room and hear from his room (like I do every night), “Mommy! I need more more hugs and kisses.” I peek my head in and ask (like I do every night), “More more hugs and kisses??” “YEAH!” Heaving an exaggerated sigh I go into his room again, “Ok, I guess I can give you more more hugs and kisses.” His little arms envelope my neck  and I kiss his cheek, ear, the soft spot where his neck meets his shoulder, and he does his little squawk again before pulling back and kissing me on the mouth, the nose, the chin and giving me eskimo kisses. I caress his cheek and smile, “Good night, buddy.” “Good night, mommy.” A last hug and I head to the door where we blow each other kisses and put them in our pockets for later.


We received the letter saying Jonas has been accepted into the district’s school readiness program (pre-school) next year and it’s bitter sweet. I’m very excited for him to interact with other kids his age and learn new things but I’m not ready for kindergarten which is only a year after that. My baby… It really doesn’t get any easier, this sending kids off into the world thing. They’re eager to fly away and I want to keep them safe in their beds.

He cannot wait to go to school.

I cannot wait for more more hugs and kisses.

Everything Floats

Last week I talked the kids into watching Pirates of the Caribbean: Curse of the Black Pearl but warned them that there are ghost pirates. Jonas kept asking for popcorn but I told him we were going to wait until the ghost pirates come then we’ll make popcorn so we don’t have to see it (I have no real reason for why I didn’t just skip it, it just seemed like a good place to stop for popcorn). The moment arrives and I say, “Alright! Let’s go make popcorn!” I turn down the tv and herd the children into the kitchen and dig out the air popper. Jonas freaks out because he doesn’t have a stool so he can’t watch the popcorn.

–side note: Hollywood spends millions of dollars on special effects and my kid prefers to watch an air popper.—

I tell him to go get the stool out of the bathroom.

“But, I’m scared!”

“It’s ok, buddy, just don’t look at the t.v.”

He ventures out and sneaks a peek at the t.v. at which point Jaden screams, “NO, JONAS! DON’T LOOK AT THE T.V.!” with all the drama usually saved for a horror movie.


Jonas has a deep-felt love of Charlie Brown cartoons. His most recent favorite is “Happiness is a Warm Blanket.” For the last month or so he’s been saying to me, “Mommy, I really like you. You’re my sweet baboo.” If I dare to reciprocate and tell him he is my sweet baboo, he pulls a perfect Linus and yells, “I am NOT your sweet baboo!”


I’ve gained a pant-size. Most people would not be happy about this but I am very happy about it. Friday night I ran my hand over my hip absent-mindedly while I was talking to Matt and I stopped talking and pulled up my shirt to inspect my hip bone.  I ran my hand over it again. Soft. Smooth. No more jutting hip bone.  I smiled and took Matt’s hand and showed him. He smiled and said, “Congratulations, babe.” Still smiling, I ran my hands over my hips again relishing the feel of the soft skin under my finger tips.


Sometimes I have to list out these accomplishments to remind myself to focus on all the little good things instead of the little bad things. I really need to do it more often. I think we all do.

What the what?

Three years ago, I bought a laptop. Her name is Stella and I love her. Except. Oh, except. She’s very hot and I don’t mean in a sexy way, though she is rather sleek. She runs very hot and I’ve bought three fans for her. Also she started going “grey screen” on me whenever I ran itunes and did something else. Or tried transferring files off of her after she went all “vertical blue/green corduroy lines” screen on me. All of these little quirks have made it very hard to love her.

The vertical lines screen is what pushed me from, “ok, I’m probably going to need a new laptop within the year” to “SHIT! I need one NOW because I don’t know when this thing’s going to blow and if it wasn’t for the fact that I’m going to school ONLINE I’d just let it go for a while.” And sure, some may argue that I could just use Matt’s computer downstairs but those people can shut up because it’s cold in that basement and Matt usually plays on his computer when I’m doing school work. Mostly the cold thing.

That previous paragraph is the very definition of “First World Problems.”

So I researched and researched and researched some more and decided on a Dell because I’ve heard great things about them and they’re reasonably priced. Then somehow Matt and I started discussing buying a desktop for me instead and the research for that took place. Then last week I ran into a completely asinine problem on Sharepoint and I threw up my hands and said, “That’s it! I’m going Mac!”

However, I couldn’t just go buy a mac. Those things are expensive and we’re planning a trip to Disney World and we ain’t exactly doing laps in a money bin for a fun Saturday Night. Last year Matt’s grandmother passed away. She really was a neat lady and I wish I’d known her during her younger years because I heard some great stories about her at the funeral. She left her children and grandchildren a nice chunk of change. Matt and I put some of it aside on the off-chance we needed to pay taxes on it this year. Last Saturday we finally got the tax form for that account and Matt ran off to do our taxes. Good news! Big tax return and we don’t have to pay taxes on the inheritance!

Sunday we dropped the kids off at my mom’s* and went shopping. God forbid we just sit on the money for a while.

First we went to Guitar Center for what Matt swore would be a short trip because he knew exactly what he wanted and only wanted to look at one other thing.

Word of advice: going to Guitar Center with a musician is NEVER a short trip. To be fair, this wasn’t entirely Matt’s fault because what he wanted had been discontinued and the newest and prettiest model wasn’t available in stores so he had to order it but then there was this thing involving a coupon and the store’s computer and…looking back I’m thinking we should’ve just had Matt order it from home except for the coupon which was for $100 if we spent so much before taxes. It wasn’t anyone’s fault, really, and there wasn’t anything we could do but I did tweet this at one point:

“Guitar Center needs a ‘significant other’ area where we can sit and drink coffee and access free wi-fi.”

But we ended up saving $100 so I can’t complain too much.

Off to Best Buy! Matt found an ad in the paper for a 3TB external hard drive for $199. WELL, we found a different one for $149! But then we found Lego Star Wars for the PS3 and a Blue Ray/DVD/Digital Copy of To Kill a Mockingbird so we didn’t end up really saving anything but whatever.

Off to the Apple Store!

It’s so shiny in there and everyone was so nice and helpful. We barely had time to even look at the iMac we were directed to before Justin the Helpful Sales Rep greeted us and answered the two or three questions we still had after all the research we’d done. I decided on the 21.5 inch 2.5GHz model and traded in the 4GB RAM for 8GB (let me tell you, I felt so awesome and smart when I told him I wanted to do that and then he said that’s what he would’ve recommended we do.) and Matt ordered his new ipod (his died a long time ago and he’s been so good about not rushing out and buying a new one right away, especially considering what a music nut he is and how much time he spends on the bus now). The whole “sale” took about 15 minutes. Justin told us it would be about 30 minutes to install the new memory so we could just hang out or go get some coffee or whatever and they’d call us when it was done.

“Sweet!” we said smiling and nodding. “What a painless transaction this is!” I stupidly thought.

Justin totaled up everything (including my student discount which saved us about $100), showed me the total cost, I fought the urge to faint and handed him my bank card. He ran it and…

It was declined.

“Say what now?”

“Yeah, it didn’t go through.” Justin said, still being super friendly and being an absolute angel about not embarrassing us. “But here’s why: your bank has a daily spending limit and I’m guessing this isn’t your first stop today.”

“No, we went to Guitar Center earlier…” Matt mumbled.

“Dang it!” I was just plain angry and embarrassed. “The money’s there! I just put it there this morning!”

“I saw it!” Matt agreed (because our word would be enough to magically make the card work, right?)

I muttered some more and said, “Matt told me to call the bank before we left to let them know but I was all, who’s going to be open on a Sunday?”

“The bank,” Matt and Justin said in unison. Justin handed me my card back and told me to just call the number on the back and they’ll take care of it. So I did. Except my stupid phone didn’t want to place the stupid call. So I used Matt’s phone and Matt and Justin bashed T-Mobile for a while.

After I finally go through to a person, she explained that she can certainly increase the daily spending limit. I told her how much I needed and she said that she needed to increase the limit to $Z and there was only $Y in the account. And I said, “But I only need $X.” “Yes, but you need $Z in order to increase the limit.” Getting more furious by the minute, I asked if I could get a Direct Deposit Advance (THAT I DIDN’T NEED MAY I JUST POINT OUT AGAIN???? I had plenty in the account even after the Apple Store purchase just not the necessary $Z). She processed it and said it should be good to go. I asked her to stay on the line while Justin ran it again.

And again.

Three times. Not accepted.

Bank lady put me on hold for a good 10-15 minutes (possibly more, time lost all meaning at this point.)

Meanwhile, Justin and Matt were talking about Garage Band and other small talk while I silently fumed to the sound of smooth jazz piano playing over the phone. Bank Lady comes back on and passed me off to Bank Dude. I explained to Bank Dude the whole thing about the limit increase and the direct deposit advance to get it to the magical $Z amount I needed. “OK, good, I think I see the problem. Just give me a couple minutes and I’ll get it straightened out for you.”

Two minutes later, I hear:

“Ok! I—“

I look at the phone. I put it back to my ear. “Hello? HELLO??”

Matt: “What’s wrong?”

Me: “EFFING PHONE!! It dropped the call!”

Matt: “Are you freaking kidding me?”

Me: “No! But he did say “ok” like whatever needed to be done was done.”

Justin: “Shall I try it again?”

Me: “Yeah, go for it.”

Justin swiped the card while Matt and I held our breath.

“It went through!”

“Oh, thank god. I was about to lose it,” I say.

Justin hands me back my card and says, “I’m glad it went through because I saw a four-letter expletive on both of your mouths.”

“Oh, it was ready to fly!” I laugh, relieved and still so unbelievably embarrassed. We both thanked Justin for being so patient and he was still so awesome about the whole thing. And two minutes later, up walked the service guy with my shiny new computer with its 8GB of RAM.

That evening, Matt plugged in the computer and turned it on. Jaden’s head popped up and said, “Hey! That’s the sound Wall-e makes when he wakes up!”

“Oh yeah, it is, huh! Hey! Should we call it Wall-e? Or maybe Eve because it’s so sleek and shiny?” I asked.

Jaden thought about it and said, “No, I think its name is Wall-e.”

And Wall-e it is.

Epilogue: I have no idea how to use Wall-e. If anyone has any suggestions for converting my brain from PC to Mac, I’d greatly appreciate it.

*Upon arriving at my mom’s to pick the kids up again, Jonas announced that he “was so much good today!” Apparently, he used up all of his good because by the time we got home he was throwing a fit that we were going home, not to a restaurant, and that he didn’t like us. Later he threw his bowl of soup on the floor because he was playing with it instead of eating it. Oh, Three. You’re just full of surprises, aren’t you?

Or until she grows up and becomes someone else’s morning battle.

Every once and while I hit the ol’ “Read Random Post” button on my little ol’ blog here and cringe while I read some of the stories. Not because of the misspellings and self-indulgent whining (because, dude, it’s a blog. What the fuck else am I supposed to do with it?) but because of how little has changed over the last 4 years or so. Particularly when it comes to the mornings in our house and how Jaden and I deal with them.

No, I’m not going to go through and find all the examples but you know what I’m talking about if you’ve been reading this blog for a while. If you don’t and you don’t feel like reading through 4 years of babbling, let me sum it up thusly:

My co-workers LOVE hearing about my morning debates with Jaden. They are epic and while I end up getting her to get dressed and ready, there is a LOOOOOONG process involved that, while the details vary from day to day, is made up of these steps:

1.       I wake up

2.       I pick out the children’s clothes.

3.       Jonas wakes up and gets ready no problem.

4.       I wake Jaden up nicely and sweetly.

5.       My demeanor rapidly changes to that of a harpy.

6.       Jaden remains silent until she’s dressed then she’s happy and chipper while I seethe.

Last Thursday (a week ago today) was…well, here, let me tell you.

It was the coldest day of the season thus far. We woke up to -12 degrees (NOT the wind-chill reading might I point out) and I was less than thrilled. I picked out Jaden’s clothes and asked her nicely to” wake up, sweetie, it’s very cold so I need you to get up and ready so we can get out the door on-time if not early.” I left the room with a, “C’mon, J, get up,” and went to pick out Jonas’ clothes and make sure he went potty.

He did. Because he’s an angel. And totally my favorite.

Of course he wasn’t wearing any pants or underpants, but y’know, half of that battle was over while the one with Jaden was just beginning.

I went back to Jaden’s room and found her at least sitting upright and told her I was going to get dressed and when I came out of my room I wanted her in and back out of the bathroom and getting dressed herself. She came out of her room while I went into mine, knowing full well she would not be dressed even a little bit but hoping against hope she would be back in her room.

Coming out of the room, I say, “Jaden, did you go potty?”

“Yeah!” she calls from the bathroom. I sigh, hang my head and say, “Great. Now wipe your tushie, get back in your room and get dressed. Please.” She comes out of the bathroom wearing her jammie top and underpants. A couple minutes pass and I go into her room and find her sitting on her bed not moving. “Ok, your underpants, socks, and clothes are on your [bunk bed] ladder. Get dressed.”

Let’s skip ahead to when I was finished getting ready and had finished getting Jonas ready and went back to check on Jaden.


“JADEN?? What are you doing? It’s been 15 minutes and you haven’t done anything!”

Without a word, she lies back on her bed, legs up in the air and points with both hands at her crotch. She completes this lovely picture with a look on her face that clearly reads, “Hello? I changed my underwear.”

Livid, I execute a slow-cap, “Congratulations, you changed your underwear. Could you maybe put the rest of your clothes on now?”

Less than two minutes later she prances into the bathroom to brush her hair and teeth. TWO MINUTES! TWO MINUTES??! What the hell was she doing those 15 minutes before?

Lather. Rinse. Repeat for the next 8,000 years.

We only hire the best!

The following exchange actually happened today at a local Americanized TexMex fast food joint over lunch.

Guy: “Your total is $4.27”

Me: “Here you go!” (hands him my card and ID)

Guy: (looks at my ID) “Oh, I don’t really need this.” (turns my card over, see ‘SEE ID’ written in the signature box)”Oh.”

Me: “Yeah, I had my card stolen once so I put that on there.”

Guy:  “Oh, well, whatever. I don’t even know what I’m looking for.”

Me: “Well, for starters, if the name matches…”

Guy: “Yeah, I guess.”

Me: “They never trained you on standard card reading procedures?”

Guy: “Whatever. They don’t pay me enough to learn.”

Me: “Uh…huh…”

Guy: (hands me card and receipt) “Your order number is 108. Have a nice day.”

Me: “Yeah, you, too.”

OK, let’s just think about this exchange. First, guy blows off the fact that I handed him my ID, which in itself is a voluntary security check on my part. Then he further blows off the importance of checking identity AFTER I tell him I had my card stolen. THEN he blames his pay grade for not knowing how to check a damn name?

As Jessie said, “They need to take his Service Champion name tag away.”

Little Big Boy

I have this cookbook that I picked up in Montana on my cousin’s suggestion. Has that thing ever earned its place on my book shelf! I’ve had more successful meals from that book than any other in my possession. However, the last couple were kind of lackluster and last night’s recipe just wasn’t sounding that great to me. Granted I’ll be making it tonight so I may have to eat those words (no pun intended), but yesterday I just wasn’t in the mood for polenta and greens. Instead, I made pancakes, veggie bacon and eggs. Bring on the fat and carbs! WHOO!

When I got home from the grocery store (we needed some corn/maple syrup), my little man ran into the kitchen like he always does yelling with his arms held out and a big smile on his face, “Mommy! Mommy’s home!”  You’d think I’d become immune or used to this greeting but it’s a guaranteed mood brightener. Not that I needed one last night, not with pancakes coming. I swooped him up relishing in the feel of him snuggling into my chest as I hug him close and said hello. I put him down and went to say hello to the rest of family, who are usually there with Jonas and found my husband and daughter playing Disney Universe together. Jaden flashed me a bright smile and “Hi, mommy!” and Matt threw me a, “Hey, babe.”

Back to the kitchen I went and started gathering the flour, sugar, eggs, and other things needed. Jonas followed me like a puppy (speaking of puppies, Daisy’s usually the first one to greet me at the door and after a firm, “Down!” from me, I say hello to her, too.) and started talking non-stop about his day but paused long enough to ask me, “Mommy, what we having for dinner?”

“Pancakes, bacon and eggs!”

“YAY!!!” he clapped and jumped up and down, “I WUV pancakes, bacon, and eggs!”

He ran off to tell his sister the good news and I started making the pancake batter. He came in a short time later jumping and clapping his hands over his head.

“What are you doing?” I ask and before he can answer I figure it out, “Are you doing jumping jacks?”

“Yeah!” he says, still jumping and clapping, “Annabelle did jumping jacks with me today!”

“Well, you’re doing a great job, buddy,” I turn back to the counter and Jonas is soon right next to me asking to help make dinner. I give him the job of very carefully mixing the dry ingredients together and adding the baking powder and salt, saying “stir very gently” to make sure he doesn’t go crazy and send the flour flying. After I add the wet ingredients I take over and start virgorously stirring and get admonished:

“Mommy! You have to be bery careful,” he says in a gentle tone, “Be bery gentle.”

I comply and then ask him to set the table while I cook up the pancakes.

“There are clean plates in the dishwasher,” I tell him, “Just put four of them on the table.” He does just that and then puts a fork next to each plate.  As I’m flipping the veggie bacon and monitoring the pancakes I hear some clattering and turn around to see Jonas playing with some knives.

“Oh, nonono, honey,” I take the knives away, “Don’t touch the knives, ok? They’re very sharp.”

“Ok, mommy,” he says, and grabs another knife.

“No, Jonas, I just said, don’t touch the knives.”

“Oh, sorry, mommy.”

After scanning the clean silverware and removing the remaining sharp knives, I go back to cooking.  Next to me, the silverware drawer opens and a little hands comes into my peripheral holding a spoon. I look at Jonas and he’s putting the silverware away.

“Buddy, are you putting the silverware away?” I ask.


“Well, thank you, sweetie!”

After the silverware is put away (he stopped once to very carefully hand me a butter knife and ask me to put it away for him), he puts the clean pots away, hugs my legs and says, “I wuv you, mommy.”

“I wuv you, too, Jojo,” I smile and hug him back, “Thank you for putting the dishes away. That was very nice of you.”

“You’re welcome, mommy!” And he goes back to doing his jumping jacks.


This morning I asked both of the kids to go put their shoes on, assuming Jonas would bring me his shoes and ask me to put them on, like usual. Instead, he comes to my bedroom with his shoes on.

“Dude!” I exclaim, “Did you put your shoes on? All by yourself?”

“Yeah!” he beams and stomps his feet to make his shoes light up.

“Dude!” I kneel down and hug him, “You even got them on the right feet. I didn’t know you could do that! Good job!”

He runs back to the garage door to finish getting his gear on. Soon I hear the kids arguing about something. No yelling, just discussing something. I’m in Jonas’ room turning off his nightlights and hear:

“Don’t call me Jojo, I don’t wike that.”

“You don’t like Jojo?”

“No, my name is Jonas Matthew Bingmar.”

Then I step in, “Jonas, I’ve been calling you Jojo since you were a baby and I’m not going to stop anytime soon. Sorry, buddy.”

Jaden says she likes to call him Jojo. I walk into the kitchen to find Jaden sitting on the floor tying her shoes and Jonas kneeling beside her with his arms around her telling her she can call him Jojo if she wants to and he’s sorry he made her sad. Jaden smiles and kisses her brother and I try not to cry.

Damn. I couldn’t ask for anything more, could I?

Father Knows Best

Jonas has gone through several hair-related trials over the past year or so. There was the infamous “page boy” cut that nearly resulted in us mohawking the kid and DID result in three visits to and my MIL opening a can on Fantastic Sam’s and a super short little boy haircut. OK, that was really the only trial. And it was really more of a trial for me because I love my little boy’s shaggy blond hair. It grew out again quite nicely and I got it trimmed a couple more times, this time at one of those fancy pants kid salon places who know what a “long surfer boy haircut” is. And oh, he was adorable:


This past weekend, however, my husband decided it was time to get the boy’s hair shorn again, due to some super gross cradle cap that won’t go away. He figured maybe the shorter cut would enable us to better attack The Gross with Tea Tree oil and expensive spray leave-in conditioner from the fancy pants kid salon. Plus, the kid’s been asking for a haircut for a while so I figure, y’know, it’s his hair. And really it’s par for the course with this kid and his needing to have a say in how he looks ways.

Matt: “Is that kid haircutting place over by Kid’s Rack?”

Me: “Yeah, why? Are you taking him in?”

Matt: (casually) “Yeah, maybe, I was thinking about it.”

Me: “Are you going to go short?”

Matt: “Oh yeah. Really short.”

Me: (uneasy) “Ok….”

Matt: “Hey, Jonas! You want to go get your hair cut today?”

Jonas: “YAY!!!!!” (much jumping up and down and running around) “I’m go get my haircut! YAY! I going to [preschool gibberish]!!”

Matt: (looks at me)

Me: “I’m going to sit in the fire truck and ring the bell.”

Matt: “Oh! OK. Well, let’s go buddy.”

Jonas insisted on bringing Squeaky Turtle along, wearing his Toy Story sneakers (with flashing lights!), and his golfer’s cap.

40 minutes or so later, the boys came home and I squealed and almost cried. “OH! LOOK AT YOU!! OH! YOU’RE SO HANDSOME! OH! IT’S SO SHORT!”

As you can see, it’s quite short but he wears it well. He looks so grown up now. Both kids have hit a growth spurt over the past month and they need to just stop it right now.


Saturday, I woke up from my nap and heard Matt saying, “Don’t just lick the peanut butter off, Jaden.” And Jaden responding, “I know.”


That evening I went into the freezer to get some ice and found this:

It would appear the knowledge is one thing and actions are a completely different matter.


Sunday we took the kids to the “dollar theater” –so called because it used to cost a dollar, now it’s $3 or $2.50 for matinees—and saw “Puss in Boots”. I would recommend it. Very cute and it stars Antonio Banderas and Selma Hayek who are both just awesome. When we got home the kids asked to play outside and seeing as it’s been 40 degrees in JANUARY in MINNESOTA, we said sure and off they ran. Five minutes later, Matt threw open the patio door and yelled, “HEY! PUT YOUR COATS ON!” and then went out to lecture them:

“Just because it’s unseasonably warm, doesn’t mean you don’t have to wear your coats outside.”

Indistinct protest

“If you get warm, come inside!”

And I laughed a lot.

I love that man.