Whose Underpants Are These?

An actual photo of Pumpkin Pie on Mismatched Day in preschool. His father and brothers did not notice anything different.

You may remember that Pumpkin Pie has some issues with clothing.  You can read about that here, here, and here.  More recently, he has developed an aversion to underpants.  You read that right, underpants.  If I want to be sure that he is wearing underpants to kindergarten, I have to check.  Every. stinking. day.  I told him that it is the law that he has to wear underpants to school.  I actually find this very amusing and I mentioned it to his teacher one day so we could share a giggle.

Imagine my surprise when a month or two later I got an email from Pumpkin Pie’s teacher (I need to mention that I adore both of his teachers and not just because one of his teachers’ email address assigned by the school happens to be the name of a national brand of fabulous cookies).  The message casually mentioned that they found a pair of underpants in the bathroom at school and while she was certainly not accusing him of anything, she immediately thought of Pumpkin Pie and knew I would laugh.  I tried to.  I really did.  I got the message from his teacher after I got home from work and Pumpkin Pie was snuggled up, commando, in his gorilla costume pajamas fast asleep so there was no way I could know if he came home with or without his entire outfit.  I barely waited until the next morning to asked him about it.

Me:  Good morning!  Hey, did you happen to leave your underwear behind at school yesterday?

Pumpkin Pie:  Nope.  Angela (awesome sitter extraordinaire) asked me already yesterday.

Me:  Oh, okay.  Are you sure?

Pumpkin Pie:  Yes, I’m sure.  Why would I leave my underwear at school?!?

Me:  Hmmmmm.  You have a point.

If they were *that* comfortable, people wouldn't be abandoning them in bathrooms. Maybe that is why they come in a convenient multi-pack.

That afternoon I saw the teacher at pick up and just to be on the safe side asked if the found garment was spiderman blue with a red band.  I happen to know that was the pair Pumpkin Pie had been sporting the day prior as I had to check to see that he was wearing any underwear at all before taking him to school.  Duh.  I then had to send him back upstairs to put them on.  After a couple of false starts, I finally had to watch him put on said garment.  Pumpkin Pie’s teacher (incredulous, it fit so perfectly if they were Pumpkin Pie’s pants!) revealed that indeed the found underpants were classic tighty-whiteys.  It was then that I laughed.  I laughed and laughed and laughed.

Posted in Dressing Preschoolers, Parenting Boys, Pumpkin Pie, Underpants | Tagged , , , | 3 Comments

Exciting Lego Heroica

Pumpkin Pie recently discovered some random Lego dvd we had lying around the house and decided to watch it.  He has been enjoying it and for my fellow Lego buffs out there, it has sections of Lego Ninjago, Hero City and Heroica videos.  Good clean Lego fun.  I say that without actually having watched the video because as far as I know, Lego dvds were invented so I could cook dinner free of nagging children.

Lego Heroica. Say it with me Heh-ROH-ih-kah. That's right.

Pumkin Pie watched a section of the video today and when it ended, he came to find me to ask me to put on another section.  He wanted to watch the Lego Heroica, which he unfortunately pronounced, “Lego Erotica”.  As in, “Mom, would you please put on the part with the Lego Erotica”?  Huh?  Am I missing something in this dvd?

I am happy to report it was a brief misunderstanding which was cleared up before any words even left my lips.  Words such as, “Lego Erotica?  That is a pretty specific fetish“, or “Lego Erotica?  What are you doing in Daddy’s sock drawer”?

The end.

Posted in Funny Parenting Blog, Legos, Parenting Boys, Pumpkin Pie | Tagged , , , | Leave a comment

An Actual Conversation: Fashion Stop at Kohl’s

Yesterday I had 45 minutes to run out and buy a much-needed bra to replace the two I threw out because they were old and stretched out and the girls deserve better than that.  Wearing my usual uniform of a sweater, jeans and my favorite warm and awesome black boots, I headed out to Kohls.  It was a precision strike and I headed straight to the lingerie area when I was distracted by a cute top that would match my blue pants.  I grabbed one in my size and was returned on my path to the Maidenforms when I overheard someone in the nearby dressing room.

Unknown Kohl’s Shopper (loudly addressing friend in the dressing room while walking toward me):  I just don’t like the way those look on you.  They don’t look goo- um, they don’t show off your figure!

Unknown Kohl’s Shopper(To me):  What kind of jeans are those?

Of course! Why didn't I buy a special product that would keep my pants tucked securely into my pants? Oh, right. Because it's stupid.

Me (looking around b/c I don’t understand why she is talking to me):  Huh?

UKS: What kind of jeans are those?  Boot leg?

Me:  No.  They are tapered so they can fit into the boots.

Unknown Kohl’s Shopper whom I shall rename Rude Kohl’s Shopper:  Okay, see how they are bunching up at your knees?  Right here (pointing at my knees).  That is what I am talking about (to her friend).  You don’t want this.

Me: (silence)

Rude Kohl’s Shopper:  My friend is looking for jeans to wear with boots.

Me (inspecting my knees):  I tucked mine into my socks, but…  You have to get the tight skinny jeans for that and I am not comfortable in those.

Rude Kohl’s Shopper’s (now embarrassed) Friend:  Me, neither.

Rude Kohl’s Shopper started to say something else, but having been humiliated enough for the day, I walked away.  I headed over to try on bras because nothing is better for a woman’s self-esteem than staring at her bare breasts in the cold harsh fluorescent lighting of a Kohl’s dressing room.

I just hope when I am featured in the back pages of Cosmo’s Fashion Don’t section, they have the decency to black bar my eyes.

Look! Another product to buy and then lose in your drawer!

I am opening a forum.  Please feel free to leave a comment as to what I could, nay should have said to Rude Kohl’s Shopper.  I was dumbstruck at the time and dropped the snark ball.  I have had a few ideas since, but it will do my self-esteem some good to hear from you all.  Please, help me right this wrong even if it is only here in this nice safe space.  Bring it!!

(Image Credits:  BootStraps available at sageclothing.com here. Stirrupz available at lorisshoes.com here.  Buy them both so you don’t have the same fashion disaster I did.  Save yourselves, people.)
Posted in Fashion Disaster, Funny Parenting Blog, Kohl's, Rude shoppers | Tagged , , , , | 7 Comments

Sink or Swim Starts Now and I Pretend I Don’t Care.

A year ago almost to the hour, I published a post about deciding whether or not to let our ADHD kid fail (that kid would be Sweet Pea in case you are just joining us).  Well, Husband and I have spent the last marking period operating over capacity at Sweet Pea’s homework with an increasingly sour attitude from the very child we are trying to, you know, help.  I must admit, it involved calling Sweet Pea a Buttface behind his back with startling regularity.

This kid looks euphoric compared to Sweet Pea doing homework.

Here is how this went down.  I am at work 2 evenings out of every week, so it falls on Husband to work one-on-one with Sweet Pea to drag him through his homework those nights while simultaneously cooking a delicious, nutritious dinner and parenting the other two boys.  Exhausting.  I have no idea how he has kept it up so long.  I handle HW the other 2 nights and we sort of share it on the weekends.  This involves hours of our time and constant re-direction of Sweet Pea.  A typical conversation would go like this:

Parental Unit (sweetly):  Sweet Pea, what homework do you have tonight?

Sweet Pea:  None. I’m going downstairs to watch TV.

Parental Unit:  Come back here, please.  It says here on the eboard that you have to read pages 45-60 in Boring Book 4 and answer questions 10-15.

Sweet Pea:  I did that already.

Parental Unit:  Great!  May I see it, please?

Sweet Pea:  I left it at school.  I am going outside to play Manhunt.

Parental Unit:  Stay here, please.  That’s a shame.  So no TV for tonight.

Sweet Pea:  WHAT?!?!  WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT YOU ARE ACTUALLY TRYING TO MAKE ME MISERABLE NO ONE ELSE HAS TO DO THIS MUCH HOMEWORK HOMEWORK IS SO STUPID I DON’T KNOW WHY WE HAVE TO DO IT!!!!!

Parental Unit:  If you want to have a tantrum, please do it upstairs in your room.

Sweet Pea:  Oh, I found the assignment.

Parental Unit (taking slow, deep breaths):  Great!  Can I see it?  Hmmm.  Looks like you only answered a couple of the questions, and these 2 answers are too messy to read.

Sweet Pea:  WHAT?!?!?!  WHY DOES EVERYTHING HAVE TO BE SO PERFECT?!?!?!  I CAN READ IT JUST FINE MAYBE I AM JUST NOT A SMART ENOUGH PERSON TO GET GOOD GRADES!!!!!

Parental Unit (through gritted teeth):  Upstairs.  Now.

(Stomping, loud mumbling and complaining fading into the distance)

Parental Unit:  Buttface.

After a half hour cooling-off period, this process is repeated until either Sweet Pea goes to bed or the whine wine runs out.

It even looks scary when written for children.

The over-extending on the part of husband and me had made all of us grumpy.  The younger Shorties weren’t getting sufficient attention and the kitchen wasn’t getting cleaned after dinner and the dog hardly ever got fed.  Well, not any more!  Time to sink or swim, dude.  Sweet Pea has now been relieved of his parents nagging supervision of homework and missing assignments.  Do the homework, don’t do the homework, it is up to him.  We still care, but we just pretend like we don’t.  I suspect my mom-friends who have teenagers have already discovered this.  Husband and I are just kind of slow.  That is how we are handling the buttface oppositional piece of this puzzle.

The next piece is the motivational problem.  Sweet Pea has never found grades particularly motivating (dammit) beyond the exact moment he receives the grade.  Because of this, we had to go to big guns:  TV.  If any of his average class grades, as reflected in Progressbook (online grade book kept sort of up to date) fall below a B, he has no privileges at home.  That simply means that Sweet Pea doesn’t get to watch TV or play any video games.  Don’t want that to happen, Sweet Pea?  Figure it out.  Motivation?  Check.

Let me tell you, the kavetching was off the charts when we unveiled this little plan to Sweet Pea.  OMG, you would have thought we asked him to remove his own kidney with a spoon.  He even suggested that maybe he just isn’t that smart and can’t get good grades.  That was fantastic!  Sweet Pea loves him some screen time and the threat of taking it away has always affected him.  But his tirade died down pretty quickly and he headed to school.

That was almost a week ago and you may be wondering how it is going.  Well, the marking period started Monday, and by Tuesday he had a D in math because he bombed a test.  We suggested (in a very nonchalant way, of course) that he consider attending the Math after-school-homework-help if he wanted to, of course.  He refused.  Doesn’t matter to me, I pretended.  We wondered aloud if he would do the corrections for the test so that his grade would be improved.  He said he had done them.  (We will see if they ever get turned in.)  We conversed with each other in Sweet Pea’s earshot about how a teacher might react if you asked nicely for extra credit to bring up one lone bad grade.  No comment.  We suggested he might ask Husband to work with him on some problems to prepare for the upcoming math test.  Sweet Pea accepted that one.  Doesn’t matter to me, I pretended.

Ultimately, I am happy to report that I am seeing more swimming than sinking.  Although his grades are a A, B, C, C,  and he hasn’t seen a screen in 6 days, he has been much more pleasant to be around.  Sweet even.  Sweet Pea also went and talked to his science teacher to follow up on a missing assignment and ask for extra credit (I know, right?!) That visit ultimately brought his F up to a D+ and he hasn’t even gotten the extra credit work yet.  Sweet Pea also requested help and studied with Husband cooperatively for his most recent math test which he did not entirely bomb.  It is dicey to watch our kid potentially sink and Husband and I fret about it when we are sure no Shorties can hear.  But I am certain it needed to happen.  We couldn’t keep up that kind of homework pace.  There are five people (and one Doodle Dog) in our family and 85% of our parenting was going to one child’s schooling.  This child simply needed to get his act together.  Better than in high school, that’s for sure.

This is the only Lifesaver you are going to need from us, Sweet Pea!!

As it stands today, we are happy with our decision to chuck Sweet Pea into the water but if we need to throw out a life preserver, I suppose we will.  Right now he doesn’t need one at all and Husband and I couldn’t be happier.  We have more free time and less stress.  What could be better?  I may even have to find someone else to call Buttface.

(Image Credits:  Homework pic borrowed from the Engineering school at UMass here.  Sink or Swim by Valerie Coulman and Roge Girard available at Amazon here.  Wint-O-Green Lifesavers available here at Amazon who should seriously give me a kick back for all the damned product placement I do for those nubes.)
Posted in ADHD, Funny Parenting Blog, homework, Middle School, Parenting Boys, Sweet Pea | Tagged , , , , | 6 Comments

Bodies: An Actual Conversation

Occasionally Sweet Pea will send me a text while I am at work.  Usually it is to ask to do something he knows perfectly well he is not allowed to do, or to complain that he doesn’t have an iphone.  Last week this is the text conversation we had:

Follow the signs to the hospital to buy bodies for $5. Gross.

Sweet Pea:  Pumpkin Pie thinks they sell bodies at hospitals! Angela (our sitter) told him they didn’t.

Me:  Funny!  You used to think they gave out hugs there.

Sweet Pea:  I told him they cost $5 and are quite tasty.

Oh dear Lord.

Me:  You are awful.

Sweet Pea:  Yup.

And this is why Pumpkin Pie’s oldest brother is a bad influence on him.  Don’t worry, Pumpkin Pie knows better than to believe anything Sweet Pea tells him, anyway.

Posted in Funny Parenting Blog, Parenting Boys, Pumpkin Pie, Sweet Pea, texting | Tagged , , , , | 1 Comment

Alarming Smoke Detectors: A Long Story

To avoid fire and any chance of pinpointing a malfunctioning smoke alarm, please have multiple alarms within 2 feet of each other. Make sure they all have identical beeps.

Let me first say that smoke detectors save lives.  I am sure of this fact because if it weren’t so, we would certainly beat them all with bats like the printer in Office Space.  Having duly noted that they save lives and we really all need them in our homes, I can’t help but wonder how it is that we can put a man on the moon but we can’t develop a smoke detector that doesn’t alert me to its battery problem exclusively in the middle of the night?  Clearly we need to get a crack team of scientists working on this.

We bought this house 2 years ago, so it is up to code with the number of smoke detectors it has.  Which, suffice to say, is A LOT.  Per the current code, there has to be a smoke detector in each bedroom as well as at the top of the stairs.  For us, this means that there are four smoke detectors and one carbon monoxide detector keeping us safe within five feet of each other.  Everything was fine until the firefighters from Our Town went knocking door-to-door checking smoke detectors.  They went around with a broom handle and tested them all and replaced any that were expired (evidently they expire, which is not at all annoying).  A couple of days after that, things started to go south.  Here is how it went:

Day 1:  Firefighters checked all the detectors and replaced two that were nearly expired.  Thanks guys.  And to answer the obvious question, no, they did NOT send out the hot firefighters for this detail.

Not the firefighters they sent to my house.

Day 5:  In the middle of the night I was troubled by dreams that involved intermittent beeping.  An undetermined number of hours went by like this and when Husband got up to go to the bathroom, I woke up enough to realize what was happening.  I took down the one from our ceiling, took out the battery and went back to sleep.  45 minutes later, another chirp.  You see, when these damned things turn bad, they chirp once to wake you up.  Then they wait for 5 minutes and chirp again so you really wake up and get up to find out which one has gone rogue.  Once you’re up, they rest for another hour so you get bored and start to question if you really heard something or not and go back to bed to start the entire process over 40 minutes later.  I know, it’s truly diabolical.

After I took the nuisance detector out of our ceiling in my sleep muddled daze, I went back to bed.  An hour later, same damn thing.  I woke up faster this time though, and ran to the hallway to see which one it was.  Like I said, there are five possible suspects within five feet of each other.  I got there in time to wait for the second chirp and when it went, I still had no idea which one it was.  At this point, I didn’t know the details of their evil plan to rob me of precious sleep, so I stood there and waited for the next chirp.  Then I sat down to wait.  Then I lied down on the carpet to wait.  Then I said, Screw this.  I must have imagined it.  and went back to bed.  This process repeated until morning.

Day 6:  Of course the first thing I did the next morning was to complain on Facebook about the evil nature of smoke detectors.  Most people commiserated, which I appreciated.  I have one especially informative helpful FB friend (who will remain nameless) who went on about how that’s why she changes all the batteries in her smoke detectors every Christmas and 4th of July or some other such annoying nonsense.  I thought, Yeah, fine.  Be all organized or whatever.  Like they really need to be changed every 6 months.  Or do they?

Please don't make that horrible noise again. It upsets my delicate constitution.

Day 8:  This time, it was not beeping that woke me up.  It was Doodle Dog jumping into my bed.  Now, Doodle is a good dog, but he is not allowed in our bed and he knows it.  He never gets up there, certainly not at 3:00 in the morning.  When he leaped upon our sleeping selves, I woke with a start and thought that something must be terribly wrong.  I sent Husband downstairs to be sure that Darth Vader wasn’t trying to break in or whatever.  While Husband was downstairs, I heard the five minute beep.  For crying out loud!  Again?  Seriously?!  I really didn’t know what to do because I knew the detectors would do their best to keep me from finding out which one was squawking.  Eventually my head cleared enough to take the batteries out of all of them and be done with it.  Hopefully none of the children were planning on smoking in bed later that night.   Back to bed.  Of course, Doodle had other plans.  We dragged him off of the bed and he stood next to it shivering and shaking.  I got in bed and hung my leg out of the side of the covers so I could pet him with my foot.  That helped and eventually he calmed down.

To really spice things up, later the next day, the detector in one of the bedrooms (I never figured out which one, of course) started going off after one of the boys took a shower.  That was really helpful for Doodle Dog’s nerves, as you can imagine.  He was on me like white on popcorn.

Day 9:  Because I am not as big of a moron as you think a moron, when I headed to Facebook to kavetch, I remembered the wise advice of my FB friend that I paid attention to ignored and thought, Crap!  She may have a point!  It has actually been almost 2 years since we moved into this house and I have never changed these batteries.  And the dissappointingly not hot firefighters went around and made them all beep which used up whatever juice they had left.  No wonder they are all kicking the bucket at the same time.  So I went around with the battery tester and tested every single battery in every single smoke detector in the house and replaced the ones that weren’t fully in the green.  Problem solved due to my extremely slow innate genius, right?  Yeah, right.

Husband and I were both happily asleep at 3am. (As a side note, why is it always 3am? What does the universe have against 3am?  If one of my kids is going to wake up barfing, it is going to be 3am.  Loud cat fight outside the open bedroom window on a nice night?  3am.  Kid wets the bed?  3am.  Every. stinking. time.) 3 am I heard the beep closely followed by a dog in my bed shaking like the special dog he is.  What?  Why?  How could this possibly be?  I wasted no time taking all the detectors down and I took all the batteries out of them.  Problem solved for now.  I would deal with their demonic selves in the morning.

I wish I could say that was the end of the story, but nope.  Not just yet.  About an hour later guess what happened?  You know it.  Chirp went the alarm and into the bed went the dog.  Again.  It turns out that when I cleared the ceilings of smoke detectors, I forgot the one lone carbon monoxide detector which happens to be hiding in plain sight on the WALL instead of the ceiling, just to confuse further a terribly confused person me.  I know, ridiculous.  To figure this out I had to go stand in the hallway and be confused for several minutes, my caveman brain thinking, How this happen?  Og already smash those!  No understand!  Then I caught on and took the carbon monoxide detector down disemboweled it and went back to the comfort of our bed and the shaky dog to try to sleep with one leg hanging out of the covers.  Awesome.  The end.

P.S.

Day 14:  I sat down to write this blog post and searched youtube for the clip from Modern Family where Phil freaks out about the smoke alarm beeping and smashes it with his college cheerleading baton.  (I know, it was really, really hysterical) I watched it (bummer, it was only a part of the bit I wanted to see) and in it, of course, the smoke detector beeped a couple of times.  Don’t you know, the dog rockets toward me and hides under the desk quivering like a Jello.  That is really the end.

Until Christmas and the 4th of July when I change the batteries again.

(Image Credits:  Smoke alarm plan from wikipedia, Backdraft movie poster available from movieposter.com here.)
Posted in Funny Parenting Blog | 1 Comment

Things My Youngest Child Will Never Have, For Better or Worse.

I was at a birthday party for a kid in Pumpkin Pie’s class recently.  I have been doing this “Parenting Thing” for over 13 years now and while I am no expert, I am certainly experienced because 13 years of screw-ups, bad judgement, survival participation makes me old experienced.   In Sweet Pea’s class, I am the young(ish) mom.  In Pickles’, I am middle of the road, but in Pumpkin Pie’s class, I am the Old Mom.  By and far the Old Mom.

The party we went to, (did I mention it was at Chuck E Cheese?) made me realize that there are certain things that Pumpkin Pie simply has different than his brothers.  There are 5 years between Pickles and Pumpkin Pie and 7 1/2 years between Sweet Pea and Pumpkin Pie.  No matter how we try to raise our kids fairly, it doesn’t mean raising them the same.  Here are some examples:

I found out recently that the teachers call Chuck E Cheese, "Chuck E Disease". Nice.

1.  Pumpkin Pie will never, EVER have a party at Chuck E. Cheese.  Of course we all freaking HATE Chuck E. Cheese.  (Although the pizza was surprisingly tasty!).  However, at my Advanced Maternal Age, I am old enough to realize that because I hate it I will never again pay several hundred dollars to host another birthday party there.  Don’t get me wrong, Pumpkin Pie had a great time today.  The birthday boy and the birthday parents were all delightful, wonderful hosts who provided pizza AND sandwiches for the parents (I know, right?!) in addition to a hand-crafted beautiful Lego Indiana Jones cake.  But that place makes me feel like I am going to have a seizure and Pumpkin Pie will never have a b-day there.  Sorry, Pumpkin Pie.  I know Pickles had one of his birthday parties there, but you will not.  Ever.

2.  Pumpkin Pie rarely has clothes I picked out for him.  With 2 older brothers and a network of people sending us hand-me-downs, pretty much Mamaw is the only one who buys Pumpkin Pie clothes just for him. I enjoyed choosing clothes based on how adorable Sweet Pea looked in sweaters or how good Pickles looked in olive green.  It just doesn’t make sense for Pumpkin Pie.  The upside of this is that Pumpkin Pie couldn’t care less!  He hates shopping and when he needs clothes, I pull a bin out of a closet and viola!  Six new (to him) pairs of pants to choose from!  He loves the variety and he loves to see what is coming up when he grows to the next size!  He is also helpful at weeding out extraneous clothes as in,  Mom, I don’t like stripes.  That can go to Munchkin (The Brothers’ youngest cousin).  Saves time and storage space!

3.  Pumpkin Pie will never have to break-in his parents.  Nope.  We are already broken broken-in, alright.  We are so broken-in that Husband would say that we look like we were rode hard and put up wet.  Sweet Pea taught us that sleep is optional and Pickles taught us that travel is optional.  What else is there?

Pumpkin Pie will not be featured in this book.

4.  Pumpkin Pie will never have a picture of himself screaming on Santa’s lap.  Been there, done that.  Have the photos.  I don’t ever need to do that again and here’s why:  I hate the mall, I hate crowds, and while the guy in the Santa suit is not as creepy as the guy in the Easter Bunny suit, he still ranks right up there.  I asked Pumpkin Pie when he was old enough to answer if he wanted to see Santa and get a picture of him on Santa’s lap.  He looked at me as if I had lost my fool mind and stated plainly, “No.”  I took him at his word and we have never bothered.  We are both happier humans for it.  Pumpkin Pie can shoot Santa an email if he doesn’t trust his gift-choosing judgement.

If Husband and I are willing to read nothing but Magic Treehouse books for over 4 weeks, you know we are devoted to reading to Pumpkin Pie.

5.  Pumpkin Pie will always have someone eager to read him his stories at night.  Don’t get me wrong, Husband and I love to read ourselves, and have always enjoyed reading to the shorties.  Having said that, by the time bedtime rolled around when the older boys were Pumpkin Pie’s age, we would flip a coin to see who did books, and who held the couch down.  Now, not so much.  I think we have gotten to the point where in addition to not being so freaking sleep-deprived, we realize that we don’t have all that many years of snuggling up in bed reading to them.  It is a snuggly, relaxed, intimate part of the day.  Unless we are totally wiped out or still at work, we aren’t rock/scissors/paper-ing to see who gets to park it in front of the tube.  In this respect, Pumpkin Pie is lucky that we are worn outworn in.  We are tired enough and smart enough to grab a nice snuggle whenever we can get it.

An actual photo of Pumpkin Pie on Mismatched Day in preschool. His father and brothers did not notice anything different.

6.  In the same vein as #2, Pumpkin Pie gets to wear whatever the heck he wants to.  As long as he is sort or appropriately dressed for the weather, I don’t really care any more.  Im my defense, Sweet Pea couldn’t have cared less what he wore as a little kid, I could have put him in a dress and we would not have even noticed.  He probably would have liked the air on his naughty bits.  I dressed Sweet Pea in cute sweaters and jeans and socks that matched his outfits!   I can’t even imagine such a thing now.

Pickles didn’t care much either, as long as he had sweat pants to wear on Mondays.  (Don’t ask, I never found out what that was about.)  But Pumpkin Pie, likely in an effort to NOT be like his brothers, has always had very specific ideas about what he is willing to wear.  For example, he has certain favorite articles of clothing, and he also prefers costumes.  Pumpkin Pie has also declared underpants his enemy and I have to actually check his bum any day I want to be certain he wears them.  He has also gone to the grocery store dressed as Darth Vader, Batman, Spiderman, or wearing swimming goggles more often than he has not.  Of course I find it adorable.  Luckily, I am too worn-in to care what anyone else thinks.

(Image Credits:  Chuck from chuckecheese.com, Scared of Santa available at Amazon.com here, Magic Treehouse books also available on Amazon.com here.)
Posted in birthday parties for kids, Brother Rivalry, Dressing Preschoolers, Funny Parenting Blog, Parenting Boys, Pickles, Pumpkin Pie, Sweet Pea | Tagged , , , , , , , | Leave a comment