Wordless Wednesday - Gilligan and The Skipper

"Wordless Wednesdays." I think whoever came up with that term did it as some form of torture cause most of the time it is hard to not use words with my pictures!

First, I’d like to apologize for the lack of updates in the past week. Our home modem decided it wanted a holiday off, too, and we’re still trying to get it fixed. Sorry, sorry, sorry.

Now onto Wordless Wednesday. Here’s a picture of my own Gilligan and The Skipper. We are still trying to decide if our Gilligan enjoyed her first turn at being Daddy’s first mate. If the storm hadn’t come up, if The Skipper didn't think he could "beat it back to the dock", and if we hadn't been soaked from head to toe with the rain and the water crashing over the front of the boat while trying to beat the storm...hmmmm.

Wordless Wednesdays ~ Sunglasses

Gone Fishin'

My husband loves to fish. I knew this when I married him. I do not love to fish. Maybe if it were easier to catch those boogers, I'd like it. But I don't have the patience to sit there waiting. And frankly, not to be too gross here, but I've seen a fish brain. I'm not impressed. I'd like to think I could outsmart one without having to spend enormous amounts of time trying to figure out which color plastic wormy thing they prefer or whichaway to jiggle my line to attract them. I didn't put that much effort into landing Hubz and he's not scaly. Well, not all the time anyways.

Hubz hasn't been able to go fishing very much for a couple of years now. Of course, this lack of actual fishing hasn't stopped his purchasing of fishing equipment. He has a collection of bags with fishing paraphernalia in them from Bass Pro Shops and WalMart all over the place. Of course, the bags, or the stuff in them, haven't been looked at, moved, or let alone used but these bags sitting around make him feel all safe and warm inside, I guess.

Anyways, last week I started hearing talk about a great fishing extravaganza with "the guys" scheduled for this past Saturday. [When I hear the phrase "the guys", my eyes do this automatic roll. I can't help it. It's involuntary. I digress.]

You would have thought Christmas was about to come. Normally laid-back Hubz got all kinds of antsy pantsy. He could not wait. He couldn't concentrate. He couldn't complete sentences. He was like a puppy dancing around chasing his own tail.

Hubz went and bought some parts for his dad's boat, some tires for the boat trailer (where's this money coming from???), went online and purchased his fishing license (and hunting license cause you might as well kill two birds with one stone, right?), knocked the dust off his two tackle boxes, moved some of these collected bags around the house, bagged up about 12 fishing poles/rods/thingamajigs (even though the man only has two hands), checked, double and triple checked the boat registration, left the house before 9am on Saturday (I have to threaten violence to get him out of bed that early on the weekends) only to return at almost midnight that night. All of these grand preparations took place and here is a picture of the fruits of his labor:

*I am told this picture is a joke picture between "the guys". That very well may be, but if so, he let it fall into the hands of the wrong party, namely me.

Fight for the Fannies: China Cafe Waikiki, Peachtree City, GA

I have decided that there should be an event in the Olympics for diaper changing.  If you’ve ever had to change the diaper of a squirmy jelly-bodied toddler, you know what I mean.  Now, just imagine having to do this in a public restroom WITH NO CHANGING TABLE!!!

That’s right folks, it’s time for another episode of Fight for the Fannies.  This episode brings us to a small little Chinese restaurant in Peachtree City, Georgia - home of the planned community and golf courses, golf courses and oh yeah, golf courses.  The restaurant in violation of the changing table ordinance enforced here on Pinkie and the Bean is China Café.  This used to be known as China Café 9, but now it’s called China Café Waikiki. (I have no clue.  Maybe they are trying to tell folks that the changing table is in Waikiki, I don’t know.)

So let me paint the picture for you of my latest entry into Olympic Diaper Changing.  I take the Bean into the ladies room.  This is one of those one room bathrooms.  You know, you open the door and there is a toilet, a trashcan, a sink and well...that’s it.  The toilet has no lid on it.  I mean, what was I expecting...if they don’t have a changing table, do you think they are gonna spring for a toilet lid, too???  Duh!  So I’m standing there trying to figure out my best course of action.  The first one that came to mind was to go back out to the register counter and plop Bean on the top of that and change her right there in front of the host.  But I hadn’t gotten my food yet, and I’ve seen the movie Waiting..., so I figured I’d play it safe this time.

And this might be TMI - Too Much Information - but it is part of the story, so I’ll apologize in advance for where I’m about to go with this.  But ever since I was pregnant and even after having the Bean, I can be fine, no bladder alerts or anything, UNTIL I see a toilet.  Then, I got to go right then.  Immediately.  Pronto!  I don’t understand that one, either.

So, there’s a tall trashcan in one corner of the small bathroom, a toilet in another corner and a sink right next to it.  Then you have the door handle that is one of those lever-type handles that all you have to do is press or pull down on it and it opens.  Bean has made friends with each one of these items recently.  She loves to play in the trashcan, loves to wash her hands in the toilet bowl and has recently learned that she can open doors with these types of handles cause the builder of Nanny’s house never considered a toddler like Bean when they installed those door handles on all of her doors in her home.  Sadly though, Bean has not yet learned the meaning behind “stand still”.  So as soon as I see the toilet, I immediately start doing the “pee-pee dance” and am trying to figure out what I should do with Bean while I go potty.

I stood her in the middle of the floor and got myself ready to “hover”.  You know what I mean, ladies.  But there must be some type of gravitational pull between a toddler and all things “off limits” cause as soon as I let her hand go, she is pulled towards the trash can.  I grab her and get her back to the center of the room.  That one wasn’t so bad, but then she takes off to the door handle.  I didn’t know how close I was to becoming the evening’s entertainment at ‘ole China Café, so I grabbed her other arm and pulled her back, almost losing my balance from the hover.  Then she realizes “oh, look what Mommy is doing.  Wait there’s some space in between Mommy and the potty...hmmm...”  I had to make a split second decision here.  Either I could save the hover and yank Bean back from the waterfall she thinks she sees and can play in or I take a chance and go commando on a public toilet seat to keep my kid’s hands out of the toilet.  I take the hit.  That’s right, I threw myself on the grenade.  Full force, too.

By now, I’m infected with the cooties of God only knows what and I still haven’t solved the one problem I set out to when I came in the room to begin with.  I get the Bean up on my lap, while I am still indisposed, and contort my upper body around so that I can grab the diaper and the wipes, almost dropping said clean, new diaper on the bathroom floor.

So this is the picture...I’m sitting on the toilet with my pants down around my ankles, I’ve got a half naked toddler on my lap that is trying her best to wiggle herself to freedom, and a diaper that I am juggling off the tips of my fingers trying to keep it off the floor.

The force was with me cause I never dropped the kid, the diaper, or my mind.  I finally got Bean put back together and put one hand on top of her head trying to keep her in one place while I finished putting myself back together.  It was quite a sight let me tell you.  And then I get back out to the table and my husband just looks at me and says “Gosh, what took so long?”
He came closer than he knows to getting his eye dotted right then and there.

Needless to say, this whole performance could have been prevented to begin with if the wonderful owners at China Café in Kedron Village would have installed a changing table for their patrons.  But I never got to tell the manager about my experience and recommend that a changing table be installed because shortly after returning to the table, Bean decided she wasn’t interested in the Olympics any longer. [That’s sooo two minutes ago, Mom!]  She now wants to try out for the Opera.  She proceeded to put on her best screaming singing performance for the whole restaurant.  Sadly, the performance was cut short by a mother who is not an Opera fan in the least and as soon as Bean and Mommy went out the front door while Daddy got to finish his meal, Bean got stage fright and the performance was quickly canceled.  Isn’t that weird how that happens?

Fight for the Fannies Offender:

China Cafe Waikiki.
1019 Peachtree Pky N
Peachtree City, GA 30269
http://sushichinacafe.com/
No changing table in the ladies' room.

The First Tantrum

I don't think I'm ready for this and I know I probably didn't handle it right but I was so shocked my sweet little innocent child could act this way that I think my brain shut down for a minute.

Bean loves to go outside, doesn't matter what the temperature is, day or night, it doesn’t matter.  I don’t understand this fascination as “outside” is where the bugs and critters are and that’s probably why I am so freaking white but that’s another post for another time.

Anyways, Hubz and I were outside last night after we got home from work and Bean was walking all over having a great time.  I decided to go in to start dinner and figured I’d take her in with me so that my husband could finish piddling around in the yard.  So I take her hand and start towards the house.  She snatched her hand out of mine (what?) and took off in the other direction.  After I caught her, I picked her up, or tried to.  She has learned to do the “jelly body” thing where all of her bones suddenly disappear or something and she slumps down on the ground.  I get her up and as soon as I get her in the house and shut the door, she does the jelly body thing again and slumps on the floor and starts wailing.  Just staring at me wailing her head off.  I decide to let her have at it and I walk into the kitchen.  She gets up and zombie walks into the kitchen crying her head off all the way.  Then she walks up to me and attaches herself to my leg and just keeps on crying and screaming and begging me with her eyes.  She wants back outside.

I am still trying to ignore it but my patience was nowhere to be found so I caved.  Yep, I did.  I picked her up and took her back outside to Daddy.  And wouldn’t you know it, as soon as we stepped outside, my sweet innocent child returned and she was all happy and smiling and saying “hey” to all the trees.  I took her to Daddy and told him to deal with it cause I had to make dinner.  Awhile later, they come back inside and she is walking in with a big ole smile on her face just loving life.  I thought “you little brat”.

Have you seen your child’s alien side yet and if so, how do you deal with these tantrums?  I’ve never been around kids much and sometimes I don’t realize how smart she already is and then other times I give her too much credit and expect her to act much older than she is.