alone time.

Since the day my son was born, I have probably pottied (is that a word?! Or have I officially become a 2 year old!?) alone only a handful of times.

Usually my shadow is right beside me. Giving me the plate of food he made for me. Asking me if he can hold me. Telling me that the sound of my tee-tee is making his "body" (ie. bottom) need to tee-tee too.

You get my point.

And if it's not pratt that's visiting with me, it's my cat. Yoda. Tapping on my hands with her hands, begging in her little cat voice to be rubbed...










I guess there's plenty of alone time when we're dead, right?

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why...

when you ask pratt any question that begins with "why", the answer you get goes something like this...

because santa claus is busy at the north pole making presents for little girls and boys and will bring them to mommy and daddy's house next year if pratt is a good boy.


i have NO idea why.  i remember us talking about santa making presents for next year one day.  it was because he asked me if we could go see santa.  and i told him that he was back home.  but that we would see him next december.

it's so crazy.  like, you can say, "why is orange juice orange?" or "why is daddy's beard scratchy?" or "why do ace and scout bark?"

you get the exact same answer about santa each time.  and it's in a really high pitched squeaky girl voice.  and he shakes his head back and forth and laughs the entire time.

what a weirdo...

the cutest weirdo ever.  but still, a weirdo...

mickey mouse cake.

the creative gene skipped right over me and landed on my sister.

i can't pick out window treatments.  i can't pick out furniture.  i can't pick out paint colors.  heck, i have a hard time getting dressed in the morning.

so when it comes to decorating cakes, i'm not your girl.

but pratt doesn't get that.  to him, i can do anything.

so when i asked him this morning what kind of cake he wanted to make for clint's bday, he said, "a mickey mouse cake, mommy!"

so...this is all i could come up with.

but i am certain that clint will love it.  and sure it will be his favorite birthday cake of all time.

look how proud pratt is.  i iced it and he added sprinkles.  looks perfect to me!

i pee outside.

last night, around 8, pratt walked into the kitchen with no pants on.  he had his shirt on.  just no pants.  and no undies.

might be weird at your house.  not here.  pratt doesn't dig underwear.  and if it were up to him, we would all be pantless.  he must get this from clint.  idk. it's NOT from me.  i'm fully clothed all the time.

anyway, i didn't think much about it.  i asked him where his pants were, and he said, "in the wiving room".  living room.  he can't do the l.

i might have asked him to go put them on.  that his "body" was dirty and no one wanted to sit on the couch after his bare "body" sat on it.  he calls his bottom, his "body".  let me say here that your "bottom" is your front butt.  and your "butt" is your back butt.  glad i got that cleared up.  he might have rolled his eyes and ignored me. yes, he's rolling his eyes these days.  clint says he gets that from me.  i'll accept that.  i'm afraid he's right about that.

about 5 minutes later, clint walks in from the garage.  he had been working on getting the smoker ready for tomorrow's football game.  he comes in the kitchen and says, "uh..pratt peed in the garage."

so i look down at pratt and ask him, if in fact, this is true.  he said, "uh...yeah.  outside.  i pee outside."

that picture is taken looking into the garage from the mudroom.  that little booger discarded his undies in the living room, opened the back door, stepped onto the mat, and freaking whizzed right there in the garage.

and into a question mark, none the less.

i'm not sure if i should be upset, or call jim carrey and tell him that we have a new riddler on our hands...

old lady.

the beginning of the year always makes me feel old.

ESPECIALLY yesterday when i was watching cbs sunday morning, and they said something about how 2001 was ten years ago!  what!?  what!?

that's the year i graduated.  or as clint said, "graduated COLLEGE".  yes, graduated college.  high school was 14 (i just threw up) years ago.

how is that even possible?!  how am i really that old!?  i'm 31.  i'll be 32 this year.  32!!! eight times four.  that's old.  really, really, really old.

and while my body is covered in stretch marks.  (both purple and silver...yes, new ones and old ones).  and my gigantic, drive in movie theater forehead has wrinkles all over it.  and well, i can't straighten out enough to get rid of the cellulite on the back of my legs....

i really, honestly, wouldn't change it for the world.

high school was hell on earth.  HELL, i say.  i have already started praying for pratt.  and his high school experience.  i hope boys are easier on each other.

college was wonderful as far as friends go.  i had/still have the best college girlfriends anyone could ask for.  but as far as learning about myself...and about what direction my life was supposed to take...well, my 20s were hard.

i don't know how i got to this place here.  i don't know what happened.  i know people prayed for me.  i know my parents worried for years about me.  about my happiness.

but more than ever before, with all the "old" on my body, i'm happier than ever before.

maybe it's pratt.  and being pregnant again.  and knowing that clint loves me even though i'm chubby in weird areas.  like above my knees.  idk.

i just know that i wouldn't have it any other way.

now...let me go and put some more collagen on my forehead.  and make an appointment for some botox come may of 2011...

dear pratt.

dear pratt,

tonight you said something that i never want to forget.  it has such a deeper meaning than what you may realize at first glance.

you napped from about 1215 to 330.  when you woke up, i had the oven ready for tator tots.  i knew you'd be hungry as you didn't eat much for lunch.  so after about 18 minutes of waiting so patiently, they were ready.  i had your santa plate all ready with ketchup on it.  as i scooped the tots onto the plate, you ran into the living room and said, "daddy, mommy is such a good cook! she made me tator tots!!"

i've never been more proud of something i "made".  as soon as the words came out of your mouth, daddy validated what you said.  and repeated it.  something like, "yes, she is such a good cook.  we are so lucky to have her."

it occurred to me then that THAT is why you say the things you do.  because you've heard them from him. for all the grief i give him, he is such a wonderful daddy.  so loving to me.  and therefore, so loving to you.

i'm already getting nervous about this new baby.  daddy and i were talking the other night about having you and a new baby, and i told him that i was worried.  because i'm the best at having babies.  i would pray that you became a toddler fast.  because i knew i could handle that.  and so for all the complaining i do about your fits and you ordering me around 24 hours a day, i wouldn't change it for the world.  and i would love for you to stay 2 years, and 3 months forever.

i love you bear.
mommy.

happy new year.

on my stove is a pot of black eyed peas.  with 3 strips of bacon in it.  cooking away.  there is another pot of cabbage.  and yet another big red pot of paul prudhomme's seafood gumbo.

and in the oven is jalapeno cornbread.

there is a fire in the fireplace.  crackling away.  clint is in his recliner.  pratt is on the couch.  and i can't wait to snuggle up under pratt's blanket with him.

my resolution is to slow down.  and enjoy each day.  how great would it be if each day were like this day!?

happy new years!

here is a picture of clint and his first niece.  sweet baby jayce and her momma.  she was born yesterday.  clint said that holding her got him all excited about our baby.  i started crying when i heard that.  everyone knows i'm no good with babies.  so i'm so thankful that he is!

and there is a picture of pratt and his favorite new hex bug.  he plays with them all day, every day.  bugs, bugs, bugs.  maybe i should call the bug man pest control and see if they could special order him a uniform.  he would DIE.