Click here to read my 5 Minutes With a Mom interview on NWAMotherlode. When I went to the photography class that they sponsored a couple of months ago, Shannon and Gwen asked me to do the segment on their site. I was pleased with the way it turned out and it was fun to do.
Retail Shock Therapy
One Sunday afternoon in October as cooler weather was looming, I decided that I needed to get to some stores to get some pants and long-sleeved shirts for Caleb. Nola's fall wardrobe was pretty much taken care of when I hit up the Rhea Lana consignment sale, but Caleb's closet was a little bare when the shorts and t-shirts were removed. I headed out to all of the usual suspects: JCPenney, Old Navy, Children's Place and - yes - WalMart. I've always gotten the bulk of Caleb's clothes at JCP. They carry these great mix & match separates made by Okie Dokie. Without fail, I've been able to get several shirts and several pairs of pants. Well...not anymore. He needs size 5T - which is very hard to find and the styles of the Okie Dokie stuff are not as cute as usual - lots of monster trucks and skateboards - not really what I prefer. Old Navy and Children's Place totally threw me for a loop because they didn't even have 5T. The next option is to move out of the toddler clothes and into boys. Sizing got a lot harder. Is he a size 4 or a 5? What is a 4/6? Is he an XS or a S? When things fit around his middle, the pants and sleeves are too long...and let me just say - those clothes look huge. Caleb is not an overweight kid, but he's not skinny either. He's solid and pretty average-looking when he's out there on the playground with his friends. Why is it so hard to buy clothes for him? I ended up finding some 5T stuff in the Garanimals mix & match section at WalMart that is just perfect for daycare. It's not all that cute, but he's going to daycare, so I'm not worried about him making a fashion statement. I did find a few things at the other places that fit him and will be good for church or other outings. I am not looking forward to next year when everything has to come from different stores. Who has that kind of time to shop for a kid's clothes?
On a much easier note, though, I had a giftcard in my purse to Melody's Choices. I'd been hanging onto it since Nola was born - looking for just the right thing to spend it on. Lo and behold, I found these shoes:
and you know that I just about died right there in the store. They were waaay more expensive than I ever would've considered if I'd been spending my own money, but it wasn't my own money. It was giftcard money, which is like Monopoly money. I ended up spending $15 out of pocket and holy hog calls, these things are cute. They do happen to have squeakers in them, which I typically can't stand, but since she can't walk, it doesn't matter.
My Car is a Magnet for Dents, Dings, Scratches and (apparently) Golf Balls
Anyone who knows me knows that if given a choice of color, I will always choose red. It's not all about the Hogs, I just really like the warmth of a deep red, cranberry, not-quite-burgundy. So, my car is red. Actually, my last 3 cars have been red, including the Tribute that Rudy drives now. Red is a beautiful color for a car, but it does show every little imperfection and every speck of dirt. During the month of October, we've added 2 new imperfections to the ol' Mom Wagon. In addition to the many door dings, scuffs and small scratches, the passenger side of my car now sports a big scratch all the way down both doors. It's interestingly right at the height of a certain 4-year-old's motorized 4-wheeler that just happens to have a home in the garage on the passenger side of my car. Coincidence? I think not. When I noticed the scratch, I asked Caleb about it and - to his credit - he didn't lie. In his egocentric preschool nature, he simply said, "You were parked too close. I couldn't get out." It never dawned on him to ask for help. It never dawned on him to tell someone. He wanted to get the 4 wheeler out and did whatever he had to do to make that happen. I was sick and parentally perplexed. It was a true accident. He didn't do it maliciously. He just made a mistake that he didn't realize the gravity of. He has no idea that a car costs a lot of money and that fixing a scratch down the side of a car costs a lot of money and he really doesn't care. I opted for the heart-to-heart talk over a punishment. Punishing him wouldn't make my car look better and it wouldn't make him understand any more than he already did.
A couple of weeks after the 4-wheeler incident, there was the golf ball incident. One of the roads that I travel to and from work every day runs right alongside a golf course. I was driving down that road on a Monday afternoon with the kids in the backseat when I heard a loud smack and then another one and I saw something coming towards my window. It took me a couple of seconds to realize that a golf ball had hit my car and folded my side-view mirror inward. I pulled over at the first logical place and got out to see what had happened. Apparently, the ball hit the front quarter panel of my car (leaving a dent and a white scuff about 3 inches long), then hit the plastic that wraps around my mirror hard enough to fold it inward. My mirror is on a hinge so that it can be folded in for car washes, etc. It is not easy to fold, though. I have to put a lot of force behind it to do it by hand. On the black plastic casing, there is a honeycomb impression left by the golf ball. Here's the kicker: the guy who hit the ball stood on the course watching this whole thing unfold. He watched the ball hit my car and laughed as I got out to look at my car. I was shocked by the whole thing, but called Rudy to tell him what had happened. He, in turn, called our insurance agent to ask if there was anything we could do about it. The agent told him that nobody is liable for the damage. Seriously? Our deductible is $250 - should we choose to have it fixed. I can think of a lot better things to do with $250, but it still makes me mad. The worst part is the "what ifs." What if the ball had been 6 inches higher and had come through my front windshield? What if the ball had hit further back and had broken the window right next to Nola? It seems to me that golf courses should have nets up to keep balls from straying into the road, but I guess there's no reason for that since they aren't liable for the damage done to passing cars.
Knock-Knock
Rudy recently started teaching Caleb how to tell knock-knock jokes. The process was much funnier than the jokes. His timing was waaaay off and his delivery of the punch lines left a lot to be desired. For instance...
C: knock-knock
R: who's there?
C: banana
R: banana who?
R: banana who?
C: knock-knock
R: who's there?
C: banana
R: banana who? (this part continues a few more times - often a few too many times, then finally...)
R: banana who? (this part continues a few more times - often a few too many times, then finally...)
C: knock-knock
R: who's there?
C: orange
R: orange who?
R: orange who?
C: orange you happy that I glad I not said banana anymore?
Hmmm...not quite the way it's supposed to go. His other favorites are the one about "boohoo - you don't have to cry" and one about an interrupting cow that requires some pretty good timing. When Caleb tells it, though, the cow usually doesn't actually interrupt, thus throwing the whole joke out the window. He thinks it's all hilarious though - and that's really what matters.
Caleb's Weekend in Tulsa
I don't have a whole lot to blog about Caleb's mid-October weekend in Tulsa, because I wasn't there. I do know that Jan and Bill took him to the aquarium and to a pumpkin patch and that they carved a jack-o-lantern. My favorite story of the weekend is that Caleb refused to watch the OU football game on TV. He told Bill, "That's not my mama's team." I've never been so proud.
Caleb's Weekend in Tulsa
I don't have a whole lot to blog about Caleb's mid-October weekend in Tulsa, because I wasn't there. I do know that Jan and Bill took him to the aquarium and to a pumpkin patch and that they carved a jack-o-lantern. My favorite story of the weekend is that Caleb refused to watch the OU football game on TV. He told Bill, "That's not my mama's team." I've never been so proud.
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