Son exposed

Dear Amy,

My lovely son, has a problem keeping his clothes on. We’re not just talking about at home we’re talking school, and public. We’ve tried everything and the only thing that seems to work is footie pjs. He just turned 3 and I know he can’t live the rest of his life in footie pjs, what should we do?

Dear Jenn,

First off, Dear Amy should begin by saying she sees no real problem with this. Little boys just don’t seem to like clothes, and let’s admit it: It’s a lot cuter now than the full-grown streaking version, like the nightmares I’ve been having since catching a glimpse of “Frank the Tank” in Old School. Personally, I say just let him be free (balling). You don’t even have to worry about breaking him of the habit, as a bunch of Mayans apparently got together and said we’ll all be gone come 12/21/12 anyway.

But should you really feel the al natural look is unacceptable, Dear Amy’s only suggestion is to dress him in things he simply won’t want to take off (or can’t). I have a few examples for you:

"I can't put my arms down!"

This is classic 1970’s circa attire that he will never be able to take off. And if he does, he most certainly should earn a “major award.”

Seriously, what kid doesn’t want to dress up as a scary, ugly mouse that serves insanely bad, over-priced pizza?

Darth Toddler

“Hmmmm. The Force is strong with this one. Remove his clothes he can. Be afraid. Be very afraid.”

This outfit even comes with easy access for all thing toileting. If he wants to take this one off, I would simply banish him to a pineapple under the sea.

And last but certainly not least, this outfit is modeled by my absolute favorite toddler at age 2, Matt:

Elmo's World

You could probably do the fireman, too, although the simple pants and jacket get-up are far too amateur for talented and elusive 3-year-olds.

I sincerely hope this helps. If not, you could prepare him for a future career as a Chippendale. From what I’ve heard (and seen 🙂 ), there is a lot of income potential in the stripper arts.

As always,

Dear Amy

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Macaroni ‘n’ Cheese

Me holding crack

Tonight’s startling revelation: The boys like Target’s Market Pantry mac ‘n’ cheese just as much as they like Kraft! I will add this to their inability to tell Kroger and Meijer brand block cheeses from Kraft, too! This is saying a lot considering I have two sons who are very, very into cheese. You know that cute commercial where the little girl leaves Santa cheese instead of cookies? Yeah… that commercial is really about my boys. As a matter of fact, dinner was so yum-a-licious tonight that both boys rolled their shirt sleeves up past their biceps, brought said biceps to their mouths and gave dinner “two very enthusiastic farts up.” Luckily daddy was absent for dinner tonight… or he may have joined in!

Tonight’s hot stock tip: Time to sell your Kraft shares; this family is moving on!

“I’ve got a poopy diaper”

"Get a whiff of this, ma!"

"Come back and change me!"

Thank God my children are out of this phase. But in listening to my beloved Adam Levine I was so inspired to write this (not sure he’d appreciate it). You should know when I was younger I always envisioned myself as a female Weird Al Yankovic. But alas, I cannot sing, and was also never discovered. But the desire is still there to be a parody pop-star (watch out, “The Voice,” here I come.):

I’VE GOT A POOPY DIAPER (c) 2012
(Sung to the tune of “Moves like Jagger” by Maroon 5)

I run out the door
in my pull-up.
It leaked on the floor…
Please don’t throw-up.
It made a mess…just like the rest…
I must confess…

I pooped in the car:
I won’t hold it.
The toilet is far:
And you know it.
You scream not to go
But here comes the flow
And I run the show.

Now it’s time you know

(chorus)
Take my by the legs
and hold me.
Take a deep breath
don’t scold me.

For a poopy diaper.
I’ve got a poopy diaper.
I’ve got a poo-oo-oo-oo-00-oo-oo-oo-py diaper.

I won’t even try to hold it.
In between my cheeks I’ll mold it.
It’s a poopy diaper.
I’ve got a poopy diaper.
I’ve got a poo-oo-oo-oo-oo-oo-oo-oo-py diaper.

Just break out the wipes
from that fat bag.
They feel really nice
like a cool rag.
Just wipe away… I don’t want to stay…
I wanna go play..

You wanted me trained,
And I hate it.
It gives me no pain…
I won’t fake it.
You say that it’s time…
Have you lost your mind?
‘Cause I like my grime…

Now give me your time

(chorus)
Take my by the legs
and hold me.
Take a deep breath
don’t scold me.

For a poopy diaper.
I’ve got a poopy diaper.
I’ve got a poo-oo-oo-oo-00-oo-oo-oo-py diaper.

I won’t even try to hold it.
In between my cheeks I’ll mold it.
It’s a poopy diaper.
I’ve got a poopy diaper.
I’ve got a poo-oo-oo-oo-oo-oo-oo-oo-py diaper.

(bridge)
You wanna know, how to make me stop?
Gimme MnM’s, or a lollipop.
But if I share my tinkle…
(More than a sprinkle)
Make your forehead wrinkle…

It’s just poop…It could be worse.
Like the day I barfed, right in your purse.
But if I share my tinkle…
(More than a sprinkle)
Oh your forehead wrinkles (hey, hey, hey, HEY!)

So it goes like this

Take my by the legs (Take me by the legs)
and hold me.
Take a deep breath
don’t scold me. (No, no, NO!)

For a poopy diaper.
I’ve got a poopy diaper.
I’ve got a poo-oo-oo-oo-00-oo-oo-oo-py diaper.
(Oh yeah!)
I won’t even try to hold it.
In between my cheeks I’ll mold it.

It’s a poopy diaper.
I’ve got a poopy diaper.
I’ve got a poo-oo-oo-oo-oo-oo-oo-oo-py diaper.

Sleepeating (a photo montage)…

… or why my 4-year-old still needs a nap.

Sluggin' back Italian dressing

Naked Noshin'

Caviar nights & Cupcake dreams

Insert Thumb

Kickin' back old school

Fruit snacks

First off, I must truly apologize that I don’t have a picture to accompany my lovely story. However, the picture would not have been as lovely. Earlier this week Matt had a MAJOR meltdown because I would not let him have fruit snacks for lunch. Not minor: I said major. As in 20+ minutes long. Screaming. Wailing. Declaring I wasn’t his mother anymore and that life was beyond unfair.

I don’t know how much more clear I can be with my son.

This is fruit:

This is not fruit:

That is not fruit. That is something that never really resembled fruit in the first place, throw in lots of sugar, squash it down flat with a heavy piece of machinery, and then call it fruit. Yes, it still says fruit on the box. I studied advertising you know: I know what packaging concepts AND false advertising are. It’s like calling fish sticks “fish” sticks, when everyone knows they took some unidentifiable sea particles, mashed them together and breaded them.

Let’s try this again.

This is healthy:

(And pretty, too!)

This is not healthy:

Oh sure. We’ve all been there. Try to tell yourself it’s all right because you bought the Mott’s All-Natural Fruit Snacks made of fruit and vegetable juices. Or the expensive Clif Natural Fruit Ropes. Well… those might be better, but they’re not the real deal. And they will not increase my son’s fruit repertoire which consists entirely of bananas, red applesauce, raisins and fruit juice. He won’t even eat plain applesauce anymore. It has to be red. Once I tried to get him to eat plain applesauce with a smidgen of food coloring in it. I kid you not he gave me a dirty look and asked me if that was my natural hair color, too. Need I remind you he’s FOUR.

You know how you know you’re in too deep? When you wake up one morning around six, there’s ten to twenty fruit snack wrappers in the garbage and both your kids are bouncing off their bedroom walls. What’s even worse is when you go and hide this “nectar of the Gods” in some locked down cabinet and one brother runs for a baseball bat while the other heads right for dad’s tool chest. I’ve often pictured Nate or Matt being arrested for some sort of petty crime, but I never dreamed it might be armed robbery of fruit particles.

So needless to say: We are going on a fruit snack hiatus. I may not buy them again: E-V-E-R! Oh you vile fruit things, oh you tempting and foolish — wait a minute while I take these fruit snacks out of my mouth: I can’t eat and type at once — morsels of sugared crack: I curse the day you were born!

Coming next week: fruit snacks part II, or why I stupidly purchased them again…