I have a confession.

I could totally write about how my little Cakes used the potty for the first time EVER today with his ABA therapist. It was awesome and exciting and many other adjectives of the positive nature. I could totally write about how husband being home for a mid-tour break from Asia kicked ass and magical memories were made and how badly it sucked when he left again. I could TOTALLY write about how I have consumed enough coca-cola for nine people in the last week, but I won't.

Today, friends... I have a confession.

When I was 13 or 14, I became obsessed (and I mean... stalker obsessed) with a band. I bought BOP magazines and I cut their pictures out and I hung them on my wall until two of my four bedroom walls were literally wallpapered with these people. I joined their fanclub. My entire pre-pubescent allowance was invested in listening to, looking at, reading about and watching this band. Not once, though, did they come in concert where I lived. My best friend bought their concert tape (YES, VHS, GET OFF ME!) and we watched it and screamed like we were there. We also laughed as we realized the lead singer had a dance that made it appear as though he had to pee whilst playing the keyboard standing upright. It was delightful. All of it.

So, two nights ago, I get a text message. My little sister, who was probably six at the time, tells me they're coming to town in concert. I contacted my BFF from the old days to tell her and we just bought tickets. That's right, friends.

WE'RE SEEING HANSON IN SEPTEMBER! 

This is where you stop judging me and just listen. I have waited fifteen years to see these people and I don't care that they look like girls or that they've since had 17 children each or that my husband shook his head at me during a FaceTime and said "Wow" when he really meant  "Yikes". You. Just. Stop. I don't care that I'm practically almost menopausal (if almost-30-year-olds are menopausal) or that I just spent $34 of my husband's hard earned money. This is happening and you can't stop it. I swear to everything holy, if they don't play MmmBop, I will kill myself.

Beanisms

I have to write down (i.e. copy and paste from my personal facebook) all the ridiculous stuff my six-year-old says before I forget and I have nothing to blackmail him with. Here we go... 

My sister's dog was just neutered last week. My eldest son, who is six, had some questions.
Him: Why is Aubie wearing that cone? 
Me: Because his boy part got cut off. 
Him: What?! I would die! 
Me: Well... he still has his wiener. They just had to cut off his balls. 
Him (totally serious, by the way): Are you sure his butt didn't swallow his balls? 

Me: (in traffic) Come on over, douche canoe! I'm surrounded by idiots! Oh... Don't say the naughty words mom says, kids!
Him: Then don't SAY them, MOM. 

Him: Mom... Don't speak Spanish.
Me: What? Why? 
Him: The new girl, Fernanda, doesn't know what the heck I'm saying. She takes her books out at the wrong time and I'm like hey! Wrong time, Fernanda! But she's like... Spanish. So, don't speak Spanish or you won't know what I'm saying. 
Me: BAHAHAHA!

Me: Do you like my new shoes, buddy? 
Him: Mom, you are so stylish. 

Him: Did you know there are people in this world that don't want kids?!
Me: Really? Why not?
Him: Because they buy cars with only two doors!

Him: Mom, you know what's really stupid? 
Me: No, what?
Him: People sleeping in [Asia] when they don't live there. 
Me: .....yes.

Him: Mom... it is not okay to poop in the bathtub. 
Me: .....????

Him: Guess what mom said I can say?
Sister: What's that?
Him: Oh my gosh!!
Sister: Oh my gosh?
Him: Yeah, like, OH MY GOSH WE'RE GOING TO DDDIIIEEE!!!!

Him: Look at this Halo (as in the video game) guy over here!
Me: Oh, that's cute!
Him: MOM. It is NOT cute. It's awesome... (Sigh)

Me: Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious! Even though the sound of it...
Him: Stop!
Me: You don't think my singing is cool?
Him: It's beautiful, but it is NOT cool.

Me: It's time for bed, dude. Seriously. 
Him: I will sleep when my heart tells me it's tired!

PC Laptops Commercial: "... because we love you!"
Him: WHAT?! Fix 'puter guys don't love people! Uggggghhhhh!

Him: Were you little when you married dad?
Me: Little???
Him: Well, not little... medium sized? Were you?

Bean got a to-go style barf bag when we left the hospital after a minor surgery. He never used it, so I threw it away. Then this ensued...
Him: Can I eat the rest of my candy in bed? 
Me: No, I don't really feel like cleaning up your barf in the middle of the night. You can have a cheese stick or you can just go to bed. 
Him: Mooooommmm! I. HAVE. A. BARF. BAG. 
Me: I threw it away, you didn't use it!
Him: WHAT?! I never barfed in it! Seriously!?! I could have used that! 
Me: (blank stare)

Me: We aren't leaving your room until you've cleaned the whole thing. 
Him: Mom, you're annoying me.

Husband: Do you want some burrito? 
Him: Oh my gosh, I told you to stop speaking spanish!

I only scrolled back to December of last year, but I figured these were enough gems to get me through his first date. You're welcome.

The touchy subject...

I felt compelled to stand on my soap box about what seems to be a touchy subject. The one subject that can REALLY get me riled up is autism, but that's not what this is about. Today, I'd like to talk about my thoughts on the gay community.

Before you start sighing and huffing and puffing and virtually throat punching me, just wait a second. I'm came across a post today that a friend of mine had "liked" on Facebook  The post was a cartoon drawing of some one talking to God. The basics of were that the person was asking God if our country was being punished because of the gay community, but God said he was punishing us for how we were treating them. Out of sheer curiosity, I read the comments on this picture.

I'm sure any of you that have ever read a conversation between Christians and the gay community will know this turned out exactly the same. Those who either were gay or were supporters of gay were bashing the Christians and the Christians were bashing them right back, but using the Bible to do so. I'm kind of tired of this.

I was raised in  and practice the LDS Christian faith. Husband is also a Christian, but is not of the same faith as I am. We were both raised with the same basic beliefs, however and I think we both feel pretty similar on this subject. When it comes right down to it, I don't have a problem with people who are gay. One of my first bosses of my working career referred to himself (and I quote) as "gayer than a $2 bill". I'm still not really sure what that means... but he was rad. He was hilarious. He was a good boss and treated my coworkers and me fairly. I didn't look at him and think about what he did in his free time or who he loved and/or was in a relationship with. I saw him as a person.

I think Christians are too caught up on this subject. We're too busy worrying about how (insert adjective here) we think it is and aren't practicing what we preach. Am I going to advocate on capitol hill for gay marriage? Probably not... but that doesn't mean I can't love all of God's children regardless of their sexual orientation, race or otherwise. What, exactly, is the point of arguing about this? It sure as hell isn't Christ-like and posting a comment that is verbally abusive in either direction isn't really that great plea for your case. I'm also fairly certain that quoting the Bible isn't going to change a person's mind in that one instant because chances are, they've heard it before. This is a path they've chosen (this goes for both gays and Christians) and what you say to a complete stranger on Facebook isn't going to suddenly make them realize that you're right and they're wrong. Especially those comments that are negative.

I think that this can go for many things, if you think about. Gun control, politics, you name it. You won't change a troll's mind, so how about we all agree to disagree and stop wasting our time and energy on people you will more than likely never meet. You can't beat a dead horse. I guess you could, but it'd be pointless and therein is my point. Whether you're gay and/or support gays or you're a Christian who believes otherwise, it's not our job to force any agenda/opinion on those that don't want to hear it. Even in my own religion, the missionaries don't force doctrine down the throats of those who say they don't want to hear it. If they're told no, they move on. Why is the internet any different?

PEOPLE OF THE INTERNET!!! I hope we can just enjoy our own personal journey and improve ourselves for the better instead of arguing that everyone around us needs to be up to our personal standard. I have a different opinion than a lot of people on a lot of things, but I'll never tell you I'm right (even though I believe that I am). Worry about you. Your grass can be green if you take the time to tend to it.

One Uppers

I don't know if you've ever met a military spouse, but we're a bunch of one uppers (most of us, anyway). I'm totally guilty of this nonsense, by the way. I've learned to take it down a notch over the last year or two, but I find myself regularly wanting to one up my very own friends when I sift through my facebook news feed.

It's not even on facebook that I have to bite my tongue. There are a bunch of very well-meaning ladies in my currently civilian-only neighborhood that try to sympathize with me and I find myself having an inner battle to keep my mouth shut. It usually has to do with how long our husbands have been away from us. Now, let me just clarify before I go offending people I know and love... If your husband travels regularly, I know you have an idea what I'm going through. Having no husband around when you actually like the dude is not the funnest junk ever. What I hate is the "Oh, my husband left for ten days once, so I TOTALLY know what you're going through!" type stuff. I have learned to not say it out loud, but here in the anonymity of the interwebs, let me just say... No. No, you don't.

Husband has been gone three months with nine months remaining on his stupid deployment to Asia. I knew this would come eventually. In his career field, it's inevitable. I just had hoped that after him being gone 200+ days a year for the last three years with the air demo team, that they'd let me see his face for longer than a few days before sending him off. In fact, we planned The Wee's pregnancy specifically around him leaving the air demo team so that he could actually watch one of our kids grow up. THANKS UNCLE SAM! YOU DOUCHE!

I just really wish I could stop even having these ultra lame thoughts of wanting... nay... needing to one up people. It's almost like all the hormonal rage I didn't explode all over people in my 29 years wants to come tumbling out of my mouth in one moment. It was at it's all time worst while I was pregnant with The Wee. My best friend's husband was deployed to Afghanistan (also while she was pregnant) and Husband was on a six week tour to Europe at the tail end of our three years of his never-ending travels. I had posted something like "Three weeks down, three to go" and she and I then had a super fun battle of one-upsmanship via my facebook wall. We worked through it, of course. We always do. I just look back and think, why was I arguing with a woman who was about to have her third child without her husband being present while he was in the middle of the desert? Husband was in EUROPE, but I was arguing that I'd had it worse because Husband was gone cumulatively longer than hers. What?! In hindsight, I am really dumb.

So, let's turn my idiocy into a public service announcement, shall we? If you ever run into a military spouse (or you are one who is dealing with another who is like me), just know that she probably doesn't intend on one upping you. If she has even the smallest conscience, she probably also feels bad while doing so or perhaps even after the fact. Sometimes we crave a pat on the back for doing hard stuff alone and go to great (and stupid) lengths to get it. So, pat a military wife on the back sometime. Instead of saying "Oh man, that must be hard for you", say "You are rad. Seriously." and you'll have made her day. Bring her some cookies. Take her kids for a couple hours. Invite her to a girls night out. Just don't give her an opportunity to one up you if you like her even a little bit because chances are, she will take it.

Adorable. Freaking adorable.

This is Bean. He is five. Today I'm going to share with you the ridiculously adorable (but mostly ridiculous) things he says wrong, but I don't have the heart to correct. I know that someday he will be all big and smelly and teenagery, so I'm choosing to cherish this junk as long as possible.

I'm going to have to spell the incorrect words phonetically... both because they aren't real words and so you can get the idea of what it is he's saying. There are a few cute phrases as well. Here we go...

1. Brave-orite (Favorite): "Batman is my brave-orite!"
2. Moozed (Used): "I moozed the crayons at school."
3. Zizzors (Scissors): "I need to cut with the zizzors."
4. Nember (Remember): "I nember him from my old school."
5. Tah-got (Forgot): "I almost tah-got my coat."
6. Reg-yer (Regular): "I want some reg-yer milk." (as opposed to chocolate milk)
7. Mame (Name): "What's your mame?"
8. "I don't know idea."
9. "I don't want to listen to Christmas season right now!" (Christmas music)
10. Mare-cuh (America): "Look at this Captain mare-cuh!"

I know there are a couple more that he says that crack me up, but my brain stops working after 9 PM, of which it is. I will correct him soon... but let me enjoy this for a minute! Jeez.

The new "R Word"

When you look at this little boy, what do you see? I see a boy who has a hold of my whole heart. I see a little boy who has one of the best laughs in the entire universe. I see a little boy who has grown more in a year than most people do in a lifetime. I see a little boy who I couldn't live without. I see my sweet little Cakes. Do you know what I don't see when I look at this little boy? Autism. But guess what? He has it.

Tonight while Husband was on his lunch break clear the hell in Asia, we had a quick video chat. He told me a story; a story that both choked me up and infuriated me at the same time. It goes a little bit like this...

Husband recently overheard a conversation in his shop between some guys, one of which was drawing a picture. Somebody asked, "Are you an artist?" and another fellow said "No, he's autistic.". Husband ignored this first encounter. He thought it perhaps seemed innocent and he was irritated, but bit his tongue. Tonight the same fellow was on the computer at work looking for some one on the internet to ask them a question. While doing so, he referred to said person he was in search of as autistic much like the other conversation, but this time in a much more derogatory manner. I can't remember the exact phrase he used as I was in too much shock from hearing the story to recall. This time though, Husband approached him and said "Excuse me, why are you saying that?! My son has autism and it's not [bleeping] funny!"

Autism is not funny. It's heartbreaking and it is not something I'd wish upon anyone. My beautiful little boy does not have an easy life. He goes to full-time preschool Monday through Friday from 9-4. He has two hours of behavioral therapy three days a week. He's done all of this for a year straight. In this year, he went from saying zero words to 15-20 words. He's gone from having a complete meltdown both at home and in public to hardly any meltdowns at all. He's gone from injuring himself when he's overwhelmed or overstimulated to calming himself rationally. He's four years old and he's learned all this. Is he "normal"? No. Has he met the "milestones" set for his age group? No. But you know what? He's by far the smartest kid I know. He may not do typical things the way he's supposed to, but if you met this little boy, you'd understand that he's far beyond his years in intelligence. What's more, this little boy is one of the loves of my life and I will fight to the death for him.

Autism is not a derogatory word, joke or put-down. It is is a developmental disorder that appears in the first 3 years of life, and affects the brain's normal development of social and communication skills. It is not funny. It is not something to be taken lightly. It is not the new "R Word" and I will do my best to make damn sure it never gets to be that way. 

Beanisms

My five-year-old says some CRAZY junk. I had to document said junk for future blackmail as well as for your entertainment. So thus begins the Beanisms (at least the ones I can remember, anyway)...

Upon seeing a wiener dog: That thing is so cute, I might DIE. 

Me: You know you're awesome, right?
Bean: Yeah. I know you're beautiful, 'specially for dad. 

Bean: Mom, do you like helping kids? 
Me: Yes, sometimes, why?
Bean: Can you help one now? (Long pause and a sigh) It's me. 

My sister is watching my kids while I'm taking a night off. Bean rubs up against her unshaven leg...
Bean: I think you might be turning into a boy!
Sister: Why?!
Bean: Because you have hair on your legs!

Me: You're my favorite five-year-old.
Bean: Ugghh... I KNOW.

I was crying (happily) because some one anonymously paid to fix our car.
Bean: Did some one die? 

I got home from a party I did for the direct sales company I'm a consultant for. Bean shows me the above picture as he's cuddle up next to the cute, blonde teenage girl who babysat him and yells, "MOM! It's me and her! She told me she LIKES me! She's my lady!"

We pulled off the freeway to go to my parents for dinner. A homeless guy was standing next to the exit holding a sign asking for money. I said nothing, as this was a common occurrence at our last military base in Las Vegas. Bean: Looks like that guy needs a job. 

I'm certain I'll recall more or add more as he says more random stuff. So, this list will probably grow over time. For now, that's all I've got. He's so rad.

What happens on the freeway, stays on the freeway?

I was an obnoxious kid. I can't say that I've overcome this particular trait entirely, unfortunately. I was the kid who did weird stuff to embarrass my mom at the grocery store. I did a lot of weird stuff by myself at the grocery store, actually. Exhibits A & B...

This was me about 8 years ago. This character was lovingly named Regina Phalange. I'd wear a hoodie and stick my friend's dummy head used for practicing hair cuts in the hood on top of my own dome. I can't tell you how many times my friends and I got booted from stores for rocking Regina. I once walked through Wal-Mart (you know, since this kind of stuff seems normal there) as Regina yelling "I'M BEAUTIFUL!" while my friend held my hand and led me along because, despite popular belief, I can't see a damn thing in there. I'd imagine my friend should have felt more embarrassment than I did, but usually whoever was with me was cool with it.

This is a really long introduction to the really short story I have to tell. So, yeah... I'm pretty obnoxious from time to time. Not as much now that I'm 29 as when I was younger, but the trait hasn't completely dissipated.

Earlier today, I had to run an errand about fifteen minutes from my home with my sister's company. We got on the freeway and started our journey. We're chatting about nothing in particular when we pull beside a school bus. I glance over as I'm driving due to a lot of movement out of my periphery. I then see what I'd guess is a nine or ten year old girl waving hysterically as she smiled at me with crazed eyes. Most adults would shake their head and ignore the kid... not me.

I matched her expression as best as I could, but I'm pretty sure mine was more maddening. I waved as though my life depended on it and my eyes got wider and my smile got crazier. Soon, this little girl not only stopped, but she looked confused and, dare I say, a little bit scared. I'm not sure if I taught this little girl a lesson or scarred her for life today, but either way... mission accomplished.