Who ARE Those Boys?

"Ainsley, who do you think is in this picture?"

"Ummmmm, Uncle Joshie & Uncle Andrew?"

And that, my friends, PROVES that my sister & I had the WORST haircuts IN THE HISTORY OF ALL TIME from 1984-1991.

[In 1991 we staged a coup & started doing our own hair - this was also tragic - my styling "tricks" included a LOT of hairspray & a curling iron & Julie **gasp** talked my mom into a perm.]

My mom claims this was the super-stylish Dorothy Hamill look, but since I wasn't an ice skater, nor an Olympic aficionado, its popularity was lost on me. 


Back to the conversation with my 4-year-old about this AH-MAZING picture:

"Ainsley!  That's Mommy & Auntie Julie!!  That's us when we're little!"

"Where?  Are you hiding behind Uncle Josh & Uncle Andrew?" (she is dead serious.)

"No.  That is us!  THAT is Julie,"  I say, pointing to my little white-haired "brother" in the photo that is sure to go viral, as you are reading this, under the google search terms "child abuse."

"Well, why do you guys have haircuts that are for a boy?" 

Hmmmm, good question, Ainsley.    

We totally had boy haircuts.  Yes, I looked like a boy.


That's why my mom let me get my ears pierced about 2 hours after someone called me a "little boy" at the library when I was in the 3rd grade, emotionally scarring me for life.  


No questions asked - I left the library in tears & I think my mom drove me straight to the mall to get my ears pierced.

In my mom's defense, when I told her that Ainsley thought we were her uncles, she went on & on about the "quality" of our  hairdos: 


"I only took you girls to a hairdresser who was really 'with it.'  She took her time and really did a nice job on your hair.  That haircut was very stylish at the time."

Really?  


I wonder if this hairdresser was the same lady who told my mom that cow & bear sweatshirts were in style too - because you better believe that Julie & I are wearing our "nicest" sweatshirts in that photo.  

"Ok, we done now?"

The morning of our family photos (our first!), Max smiled for about 4 "say cheese"-es, then asked "Ok, we done now?" & headed back into the house:

Where's Waldo--er, Max?

It was pretty funny & wasn't lost on our fabulous photographer, Katie Trenkle http://designedbykt.blogspot.com/.  

I had no expectations for this photo shoot, just wanted to get a photo of all of us glancing in the same vicinity. 

Even the outtakes from our shoot turned out well - at the end, Max took off on his trike & Ainsley pulled her bow out to let down her hair & enjoy her long-promised (bribed?) lollipop.


Thanks for a fun morning, Katie!

Sugar Highs & Wardrobe Malfunctions

Look at all of that money sunk into Disney costumes-amazing & revolting!

Another Pixar-victory at the Yeretsky house: 

October was officially "Toy Story" month & I couldn't be happier to retire those Woody & Buzz costumes now that Halloween is OVER. 

Buzz Lightyear at his best.

Eight days after Halloween, we think Max has come down off of his sugar-high, although this has not been confirmed.  He has been a DISASTER!

  

By the end of trick-or-treating, Max was asking people, with a lollipop hanging out of his mouth like a cigarette,  "When I eat all my candy, [can] I come back [to] your house & you give me [the] rest of yours?"  

(It sounds a lot funnier if you say it in his little New York accent voice that doesn't pronounce the "r"s - call me if you need a live rendition.)  

While he impressed many middle-aged ladies in our neighborhood, others in the Yeretsky clan did not fare so well.  

The kids talked me into being Jessie, Woody's cowgirl buddy from the "Toy Story" movies.  My friend Austyn, crafty gal that she is, loaned me her homemade Jessie costume from last year.

Hey peanut gallery: hold your "Emmymoo"comments.

Now, most people would try on a costume a few days, maybe even a few hours before they are expected to wear it.  Not me.  Don't have time.  I'm busy thinking about doing laundry, thinking about cooking dinner, or other domestic things I should be doing.   

So, Halloween afternoon rolls around & I put the Jessie cowprint chaps on, then I put on the cowprint vest.  

Funny, I think, this vest is quite large.  In fact, very large.  In fact, so large, that when I wear it with the chaps, I look like a cow.  Oh well, I assume it goes with the costume & go on my merry way.  

Five minutes before we are leaving to trick-or-treat it dawns on me that Jessie doesn't wear a vest.  I grab Ainsley's Jessie doll - nope she wears a white button-down shirt with yellow on the cuffs.  

This isn't Jessie's freaking vest but it's the vest Austyn's mom made for her husband when he dressed up as Woody.  Dear lord.  I do look like a cow.  

And don't worry, that point was NOT lost on my neighbors.  One of my neighbors followed me around our little parade telling me I was "so bovine" & how he would "try not to milk me tonight."  Sick.  Yes, that really happened.  

Next year I'm going as a witch.

I Hate You Pixar.

I've won a lot of battles in this house, but this week Ainsley officially won the war.  

No, Pixar won the war.    

Please see Exhibit A:

Ainsley's newly painted bedroom-she requested "a boy's color"-we settled on yellow.

If you are not familiar with the above Space Ranger (consider yourself lucky),  that would be a 3-FOOT TALL BUZZ LIGHTYEAR WALL DECAL that stares me down every time I walk out of her room, smugly saying, "Gotcha!  You lose, Mom, I run the show now!"  

Buzz is taller than my 2-year-old & almost as big as the room's occupant.  Brad had to follow instructions to put him together.  I'm pretty sure Ainsley will be 10 before he comes down. 

And the worst part?

I BOUGHT THAT DAMN THING WILLINGLY.  

At Costco.  

So you know what that means?  

There are about 25 other little annoying Toy Story gang members that will eventually take over that wall & also stare at me, reminding me what a sucker I am & the money I have wasted away on Toy Story movies, toys, coloring books, potty training rewards & this month, Halloween costumes (Ainsley is Woody & Max is Buzz).  

I once had dreams of beautiful stencils in Restoration Hardware paint colors that coordinated gorgeously with her pink quilt.  

Dream gone.  

I hate you Pixar.  

You produce kiddie crack & should be ashamed of yourself. 

(p.s. I just heard that Steve Jobs started Pixar - in no way am I bashing him - he is fabulous & will be missed - do not send me hate e-mail please)

How To Make Your Kid's Teacher Hate You...

Ainsley excited for her first day of Pre-K - warning: do NOT call it Pre-School!

...by picking her up 30 minutes late on the first day of school.  

Yep, that's what I did.  

Now, I'm not going to blame it on the school's somewhat confusing schedule, because honestly, I spent 3 years in Law School preparing to dominate the Pre-K pickup schedule.

Not to brag, but I'm a master at carpool, grape slicing & stain removal & can only credit those skills to that juris doctor degree that certainly pays off every single day.  (It does Brad, it does!!)   

What I do blame for my tardiness is the blissful state I was in that day.

Not only was Ainsley in school all day long, but so was Max!  (He refused to be photographed because "It fee-zing, Mommy, it fee-zing!"  It was 72 degrees.)

I think the school saw the desperation in my eyes & agreed to let Max start Parents Day Out in September instead of waiting until November when he turned 2 1/2.  

I know, I know, how could I ever get sick of this little frat guy, right?

And why did they think I was desperate for a break from my little troublemaker?  

Hmmmm...well, it may have been the bags under my eyes, the baseball hat covering the unwashed hair, or I probably just told them.  

I do have a history for sharing a little more than I should with teaching staff...you may recall the "Max erection" incident - which is NOT about my baby & an erection, so get your minds out of the gutters sickos.  (It is a funny story though:  http://3goingon13.blogspot.com/2010/03/max-has-what.html )

So anyway, on the first day of school it turned out both kids were to be picked up at 2:30 pm.  I picked up Max on time & even saw Ainsley & her teacher, but killed time with Max for 30 minutes because we knew Ainsley wouldn't want to miss any of the exciting Pre-K action.  

Whoops.  That action ended at 2:30 & we found Ainsley following her teacher around, setting up for the next day (big shocker).  

Some kids would cry, thinking their mom forgot them, my child was thrilled to play teacher for 30 extra minutes.  

And her sweet teacher did her very best to slap on a smile, abstain from giving me dagger eyes & not make a comment about how people should pass a test before they can become parents.

All in all, a great first day of school!

Hell Has Frozen Over

Hell has officially frozen over.

Ainsley ASKED to take a ballet class, TOOK said ballet class & LIKED IT!

Since age 2, I'd ask if she wanted to take a dance class.  


She'd turn her nose up at me & reply a snarky "no!"  Recently it was followed by a "when do my football/karate/violin/baseball/tennis lessons start?"


But not this time.  


My Masterful Mommy Manipulation techniques finally worked: "Ooooh, look at your friend Eileen's leotard, she must have come from dance lessons;" "Wow, look how high Nora can jump, I wonder if she learned that at dance?"


And lo & behold, September 3, 2011 - a day I will always remember:


My little girl, who often requests to be called "Andy" from Toy Story & plans to be Woody for Halloween said, "Mommy, I want to take ballet."  


Success!!!

Tiny Tim

When you are 2 & only weigh 23 pounds you get to do special things - like have your dad & sister shove you in a gift bag so you can repeatedly pop out like a jack-in-the-box for everyone's entertainment. 

* * * * * * * *

This was also the day Max learned to put his shorts on "all by himself."  

He only missed the mark a little, turning said shorts into a backwards loin cloth/skirt-type of thing that he wore around the house all day.  

So close.  So very close, buddy. 

Lollipops & Kiddie Tranquilizers

How many lollipops does it take to keep my 2-year-old quiet on a 4-hour flight?

Only 8.  

I was surprised too - I think I had 30 in my purse.  And I was ready to use all of them if it meant a quiet Max on the plane.  

But don't think I relied solely on Dum Dums to keep a 4 & 2-year-old happy on a plane ride.  

Brad & I were armed with an iPad, a laptop, possibly a bottle of Benadryl (I'll never admit it in print), 12 DVDs, books, stickers, crayons, blankets, new toys & many, many Southwest drink tickets (for me & all the passengers around us).

Three Bloody Marys later (mine, not the children's), Max & Ainsley were still awake,  Brad was shaking his head at me in disapproval as he read his book while sitting next to the kids (they kicked me out of their row shortly after takeoff).

Do you think Max & Ainsley would let me READ A BOOK while I sat with them?  No - which is why I plied myself with alcohol (in case I had to go back & sit with the little monsters!).  

So, 4 "short" hours later we made it to the Oakland airport. 

Our pack mule (Brad) managed to haul 2 heavy car seats & 2 suitcases to our rental car ("real men" don't use Smart Carts?), while our dazed & confused kids asked, "How much longer 'till we get to Auntie Cil Cil's?"  

And so we began what should have been a 1 1/2 hour drive to Sonoma County, but the Yeretsky crew managed to make it in 4.  

OH. MY. GOD.   

One would think this would have been a peaceful drive, that my kids would have fallen asleep since they had been up for over 14 hours with no nap, but no peace was to be found in the tiny Kia that Budget tried to tell us was a "medium size car." 

Max would not stop talking the whole drive (clearly he is my child).  

Ainsley had her fingers in her ears yelling, "Stop talking Max, I'm trying to sleep, Mom make him stop talking!"

And finally, about 30 minutes from my aunt's house it happened - SILENCE!  


Next time we're talking to the doctor about kiddie tranquilizers - they make those, right? 

"Mommy, when will I turn into a real pirate?"

We're baaack!  We're having a fun summer - Ainsley loves that we aren't tied to a tight schedule & she can wear a leotard & cowgirl boots whenever she wants.

Here are some new Ainsley funnies to make you laugh:

          ******

After Brad vacuumed the car:

"Mommy, Daddy is a HERO!"

"Yes he is," I reply.

"Max & me are heroes too. But not you mom, you're not a hero, mom, you are just a mommy."

          ******

After coming home from Grandma's:

"We got to eat candy at grandma's because it was a special occasion!" Ainsley proclaimed.

"Why was it a special occasion?"

"Because you and Daddy weren't there."

          ******

"Mommy, when will I turn into a real pirate? When I grow up?"

          ******

"Ainsley, what are you going to be when you grow up?"

"I am NOT getting big!" she yells.  "I'm going to stay little FOREVER!"  

(This was the standard response to this question for about 6 months, until this beautiful gem, below)

          ******

Big dreams:

"Mom, when I grow up, I'm going to work at the dry cleaners & wash cars," Ainsley informs me in the car one day. 

"Hmmm, do you mean you want to work at the car wash and wash cars?" I reply.

"Yeah!  And then when I'm done, I'll work at the dry cleaners to wash the clothes.  It will be the best jobs ever, Mom!"

          ******

Having a heart-to-heart with Grandma:

"I want to stay little forever, but my brain keeps making me grow.  I'm fighting my brain so I can stay little forever, Grandma."

          ******

Randomly, on the way to school one day:

"Mommy, your tummy looks big, are you sure there isn't a baby in there?" Ainsley asks, trying to look at my stomach from the back seat.

"No, Ainsley, I am not having a baby," I reply.

"Well, when you have a baby, I will take very good care of it & we can put the crib in my room & I will wake up & give it a bottle, Mommy, & it will be so great & you will never hear it cry & I will change its diapers & you will never hear it at night & it will be so great & I will be a great big sister---"

"Ainsley, I'm not having a baby.  We are not having another baby right now."

"Well, are you sure?  Ok, when you are ready to, me & Max are going to take care of it & put the crib in my room . . ."

          ******

Ainsley comes downstairs, backpack packed (with God only knows), insisting we take a trip to Wyoming at 7 am:

"Mom, we are going to Wyoming this weekend & I am going to bring my backpack to so I can be ready for action."


(Umm, we've never been to Wyoming, nor were we planning a trip there.)

           ******

Max finally started talking a lot, so he even has something worth repeating:

"Mommy, why Ains-wee cry-ing?" Max asks from timeout, with a huge grin on his face.

"She's crying because you hit her, Max.  And that was naughty," I said. 

"No, Max bite.  Max bite Ainswee.  No hit."

In case you were wondering, it's really fun living with a 2-year-old vampire.  

A Day in the Life of Max

Max's birthday is right around the corner & he has perfected 2-year-old behavior already.  


He is into everything & loves to make mischief & keep me on my toes.


Here's a sampling of just some of his daily activities:

1. Eating paint.  Why just put it on the paper when apparently it tastes so good?

2. Stealing accessories from his sister.  Right now he favors Ainsley's fake Louis Vuitton purse.  

"That is MY PURSE & it is VERY SPECIAL because Auntie Colleen gave it to me & MOOOOOOOOM, Max took my purse AGAIN!"

     

Oy vey.  Can't we all just get along?

3.  Sure, they can get along.  They get along well when they pretend to be puppies & eat Cheerios off the floor together.  Wow.  That looks like a clean activity.

4. Our notorious shoe caper.

5.  More food on the floor.  He figures if he throws yogurt raisins on the ground, he gets to eat more.  He's a sneaky one, that Max.