An upside down world...yet it feels very familiar...

I've gotten a lot of responses regarding yesterday's computer story. I've even gotten one prank phone call from a friend, who will not be named (rhymes with Spangela), who asked me to whip up some quick graphics work in pdf form. Ha, bloody ha... (giggle!) The conclusion to that story is that I was forced to purchase an update for Photoshop and an update for InDesign. Goodbye $400, hello new software. I'm planning on writing a very tart letter to Apple, which I'm sure will help line their golden trashcans. On to the funny things...

I found out today that not only my kids are funny, but shockingly my hubby is too! We took his car in to be looked at and he was talking to the mechanic on the phone. Luckily the mechanic isn't a sister company of Apple, and he will not be bleeding us dry, and even luckier, our car is still in good shape. Anyways, Jason was telling him to go ahead and put the key under the mat but not to lock the doors because we don't know where our spare key is. The mechanic called back a few minutes later to inform Jason that he put the key in the car, and that he located our spare key, under the mat in Jason's car...hhmmm...

Ben's new favorite game is from his Meena and Papa on his Leapster. It's a Pet Pals game that uses your math skills and letter writing skills to take care of one of three dogs. It reminds me of a little toy my sister had that was very similar where you had to pet, feed and walk your dog, or it would get sick or die on you. I guess kids didn't get nearly as attached to the computer dog, and my mom, surprisingly wasn't allergic to that type of dog. Anyways, Ben has to give these dogs basic care too. So I'm on my computer, while he's playing on my bed, and he says, "Mom can you pick up this poop?" Excuse me, do I not pick up enough garbage around here already?! It ends up that his pen wouldn't quite click on the poo for it to be removed. But he thought it very hilarious that it pooped in his virtual living room. Crisis averted, the next thing I heard was the game saying, "Your dog has already eaten. He won't be hungry again." Then I hear, "Filling up the dog bowl with 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10 scoops of dog food. The food is falling on the floor." I turn around and say, "Ben, your dog's not hungry, why are you feeding it?" Ben replied, "But he's eating it mom. I want him to poop again, but this time outside." Ok, ewww. It's also funny to note that every time the dog poops, Ben turns his head away and shuts his eyes!

Right around that time, Andrew came walking in and stood in front of me and started pointing back at the door and speaking gibberish. He is very emphatic, but it just doesn't make sense. So I said, "Andrew, I don't know what you want, I can't understand you." So he just looks at me for a minute, then he turns to the desk, pulls out the bottom drawer, stands up in it (about six inches higher than he was on the ground) and again points his finger at the door and repeats the gibberish. I can just here him thinking, "Are you going to make me get up in your face, mama?" That time I got up and followed him.

Ben has also found a new way to embarrass his mommy this week. He has gotten into the habit of asking perfect (female) strangers if they have a baby in their tummy. One of the girls was in high school, and one was in the doctors office. Both women we obviously not pregnant, he just likes to see his mom blush, I think. The first time it happened Jason was talking with some teens and he said the word "Baby." Which made Ben think that someone had a baby. That might have been an honest mistake. The problem was that in trying to correct him, he managed to repeat the question over and over, raising his voice level every time. The second time I was able to brush off because we were in the doctor's office and I don't think she heard him. So, ladies, if for some reason, my son asks if you are pregnant, that isn't because you look pregnant, it's because he thinks all women either have babies in their bellies, or that they should!

Why, you ask, were we at the doctors? We were at the doctor's office for Ben's five year old check up. You will all be pleased to know that Ben is still growing at mammoth proportions. He is 47.5 inches tall (just under 4 feet) and he's 55.5 lbs. Both measurements are "off the charts". Which basically means that in proportion to other five year old's, he's the first one picked for dodgeball. :) I very knowingly kept it from Ben that we had this appointment planned until that day. He loves the doctor, but the doctor's office is the "House of Pain" for Ben. And he knows it. When I told him where we were going his first question was, "Am I getting a shot?" I now know the effectiveness of my own mother's vagueness, and I'm am happily enjoying using it! "Um, I'm not sure, we'll have to see when we get there." When we got there we found out that he was slated for three shots. Here comes the demise of my brilliant plan. As the nurse is bringing in the shots, I'm looking at Ben's eyes go wide, then they start to get moist. He asks her, "Are those shots?" His voice is thick when he says it, and it catches. As I'm looking at him, I'm thinking, NUTS!! I'm going to have to hold him down. Do you remember me saying that he's nearly 4 foot tall. Hello. I'm about a foot and a half taller. I don't have much of an advantage. I go over to comfort him and tell him it will be alright, but as soon as I touch him he dissolves. I ask him if he wants me to hold him, and he replies yes. Unfortunately for him I meant "Do you want me to hold you down?" As soon as I wrap my arms around him, he panics and starts bucking off my lap. The nurse neatly captures his legs between her own to stabilize him. As I'm holding him all I can think of, while I'm watching Ben's hand feebly grasp her scrubs, is that this is the downside of motherhood. Thankfully I didn't cry. Ben's screams however were heard all the way to the front desk. He was more than receptive to my cuddles afterward, but he very promptly said, "I HATE DOCTOR'S!" We had a good conversation on the way home about the importance of vaccinations and that it means that he won't get sick as often, and that without these vaccinations, he could catch something that might send him to the hospital. He'd listen but then he'd say that he still hates doctors. So when we got home, I showed him some pictures of measles, mumps and chicken pox so he could see what he'll never have to get one day. After that, I didn't hear any more anti-doctor sentiments. If any of you have any suggestions as to how to better handle the shots, I'd like some suggestions before his six year old shots!