Blue Batman, Black Batman and Perv-y Batman

You see, it is Batman fever around our neighborhood.  So naturally, all the boys ages 2-5 wanted to dress up as Batman for Halloween. All mother's coordinated so we had various Batman costumes.  We had a small black and grey Batman, an all black small batman, a blue batman with a muscle chest, a blue batman without a muscle chest, a couple of batgirls.

What we didn't have was a creepy Batman (or pedophile Batman, as he was lovingly referred to at the party). Brandon was happy to oblige as his one request for this year's costume was (and I quote), "For Halloween this year, I want to wear a costume that involves wearing underwear on the outside of my pants."

A special thank you to Target for having the genius marketing behind superhero underwear for grown men.  If nothing else, the specifically placed Batman logo provided a place for the kids to aim their punches, much to Brandon's dismay.  A side effect we did not anticipate.

Our neighborhood is great for Halloween, particularly one loop. We have a good friend (who happens to live on the loop) who throws an annual Halloween party, and the entire group goes out trick or treating afterwards.  This year our group was 20+ kids and even more adults.  Hope y'all had a great Halloween, too.  Ours was nothing short of perfect.

Cross one off his bucket list . . .

It all started couple of months ago. . . Brandon got a phone call from a guy claiming he was John Elway's assistant.  According to this guy, John was remodeling his home and wanted to use some of Brandon's product in the remodel.  Fast forward a couple of weeks, and I get this text message from Brandon . . . .

"Uhh Wow.  I am actually standing in John Elways house right now looking at his Superbowl trophy"

Fast-forward another month or so and Brandon calls me to say, "DUDE.  I just got invited to go to a Broncos game, sit in John Elways suite box, and watch the game, vs. the Raiders, with John Elway".

And this is how Brandon ended up in John Elway's suite at Invesco Field, watching the Broncos play the Raiders, in the company of John Elway, John Elway's brother (or brother in law, he wasn't sure), John Elway's daughter and daughter's boyfriend, John's caddy, and a handful of Brandon's work associates.   

 

Said Brandon of the experience, "I can never go to another NFL game.  It would never compare"

Happiness is . . . From the book "Eat Pray Love"

I just finished reading the book "Eat Pray Love".  I was hesitant to read this book, as I am not really big into praying and didn't want to get sucked into some religious rant.  I am glad I decided to read it.  It was a different kind of book for me, but it was good for the soul.  There was one particular excerpt from the the book about happiness that I found inspiring and wanted to share:

" . . . people universally tend to think that happiness is a stroke of luck, something that will maybe descend upon you like fine weather if you are fortunate enough.  But that's not how happiness works.  Happiness is the consequence of personal effort.  You fight for it, strive for it, insist upon it, and sometimes even travel around the world looking for it.  You have to participate relentlessly in the manifestations of your own blessings.  And once you have acheived a state of happiness, you must never become lax about maintaining it, you must make a mighty effort to keep swimming upward into that happiness forever, to stay afloat on top of it.  If you don't, you will leak away your innate contentment.  It's easy enough to pray when you are in distress but continuing to pray when your crisis has passed is like a sealing process, helping your soul hold tight to it's good attainments."

From the mouth of a 2-year-old with a big brother

Me:  Coy, will you put your dirty clothes in the hamper and your diaper in the trash?

Coy:  Oh-tay, Mama.
Me:  Thanks buddy. . . .
Coy:  (throwing his diaper in the hamper)
Me:  Coy!  That diaper goes in the trash, not the hamper - Silly Goose!
Coy:  Oh, sorwee, Mama.  My bad.

That's right.  The kid can't properly pronouce his "r" sound, but he knows the appropriate context for the slang expression "my bad".

Look Mama! I NatNat

For those of you unfamiliar with "Coyman-ese", NatNat is Batman.  And yes, his "cape" is composed of a dishtowel and masking tape.

Pete and Re-Pete

Southerners, by nature, have very colorful expressions and words. Add in the southern accent, and you've got a party for your ears.  Living in the south for 6 years, I have come to love these expressions and words as much as I love to mock them.  I have even picked up a few of them in my everyday language, as it is not uncommon for me to use "y'all" and "yes, ma'am".  I will even admit that occassionally I catch myself about to say "fixin" - as in "I am fixin' to leave" (I gasp in horror anytime this happens).  I blame my close friend, Dawn.  She is just about as southern as they come.  On a scale of 1-10, where 1 is Arnold Schwartzenegger and 10 is Scarlet O'Hare, she is a 9.  And she is a plethora of colorful southern expressions with the perfect southern accent to complete the package.  But, of all the expressions I have been exposed to from Dawn, it is this one that I heard from a complete stranger that sticks with me. . . . let me put it in context.

Brandon and Tate walked into our realtor's office back when we were buying our new house.  As they opened the front doors, the receptionist said (in her smooth southern accent), "Well, if it isn't Pete and Re-Pete!"  And the other night, when Brandon and Tate walked into the club for dinner, it never seemed more true.

"Pa-jam-as" or "Pa-jom-as"?

You ever have those times in your life when something is happening and you wish you could hit pause, then rewind, and record the moment that you are living in to watch later when you need a little pick me up?  One of those moments happened tonight, and since they have yet to invent real life DVRs, I will have to settle for writing about it. . . .first of all you need some background info.

A while back Tate said to me, "Hey Mom, did you know that another word for pajamas is pajamas?" (Where he pronouces "jam" in the first instance, like in "strawberry jam", and the second instance "jam" rhymes with mom)
I said "Sure.  It's actually the same word, some people just pronounce it differently. We call them "pa-JAM-as", but other people call them "pa-JOM-as".  It's the same word, just said differently.  There are a couple of words that are like that."  Tate replied, "Yeah, my friend Kate at school calls them "paJOMas".  That's funny, right?  "paJOMas"!?! . . . . . fast forward to today.   

We are getting ready for bed, and Tate hollers to me in the bathroom, where I am brushing Coy's teeth.  "Hey Mom, where are my "paJOMas"? . . .   I can't find my "paJOMas"? . . . . My "paJOMas" were right here and now my "paJOMas" are gone."  Now, each time he says the word "paJOMas" (where the "jam" rhymes with "mom"), Coy laughs.  And, it's not one of those giggles, or chuckles, or superficial laughs.  Its a belly laugh.  A true genuine, warms your heart, makes-everyone-in-room-laugh kind of laugh.  The kind of laugh that only a kid, actually a toddler, can truly pull off.  And each time Tate says "paJOMas", Coy laughs harder, which only makes Tate say it more, and the whole moment made me laugh.  It actually makes me laugh just thinking about it.

If I could record and save this moment for replay later, I would use it when I need a reminder of just how sweet they can be . . . like when Coy is screaming at a decibel level so loud, the neighbors mistake it for the tornado sirens, because I put his pancakes on a green plate, when clearly I should have known that TODAY he MUST HAVE THE ORANGE PLATE.  But, I digress.

From the mind of a 4-year old . . .

Tate:  Mom!  You are missing it.  You have to turn right there. 
Me:  I can't turn there, buddy.  There's a median in the road.  I have to turn up here. 
Tate:  BUT WE ARE MISSING IT!
Me:  It's OK.  We will go up here an do a U-turn.  See?
Tate:  Cool.

(Fast forward a week . . . )

Me:  Tate, I am going to go up here and turn around like I did before.  Do you remember what that is called?
Tate:  Yeah, Mom.  It's a ME-turn.

Only in Texas . . . .

I am sure every city has a Planned Parenthood, but what about a Planned Parenthood Express?  It's for those who need birth control and they need it FAST.  It might also be worth mentioning that is it nicely situated between a donut shop and a nail salon, to fully meet the needs of all their customers. 

The first of many?

I once asked a doctor, "How do you know if a cut needs stitches?"  He responded, "Oh, you'll know."  Turns out he was right. . . .  well sort of.  

This is how it went down.  Coy was practicing his balance on the side of a pool by standing in a toy boat that was hanging half over the edge.  As it started to tip into the pool, Coy tried to catch himself with his chin.  Brandon and I watched from just out of reach as the whole thing happened in slow motion.  I thought for sure he was going to a) bite through his tongue, b) lose his front teeth, and c) split his chin open.  Turns out just his chin split. It also turns out that they can just glue these things back together.  I was amazed at how quickly and easily it worked.  As we were leaving the urgent care facility, I asked if I could get a to-go bag with the glue so I could save myself the $50 the next time (and I am sure there will be a next time).  They said no.