Hide your kittens.

This evening has been one of those times where I want to punch a whole liter of kittens. Bean has been a mouthy punk and it's disappointing because I've gone out of my way to be extra gooey and reinforce him positively all day.

You see, ever since Husband left for Asia, Bean has had an intense separation anxiety. He has improved slightly over the last two months, but he has days where he just suddenly decides to stick it to the man (a.k.a. me). What's interesting is when he gets in these funks, he also refuses to talk to Husband.

This episode began when Bean arrived home from school. He came in the door and decided he didn't want to do homework. He missed school yesterday due to a stomach bug over the weekend, so we had to get on top of it to be sure to catch up since his teacher thinks he needs more homework than my 16 year old brother. As he's writing the numbers two and seven over and over, he looks at me and says "The jerkface kid at school told me to call my friends names, so I missed recess!" I told him it wasn't cool to call people names, especially if jerkfaces said it was. I also told him to stop calling the jerkface a jerkface and if I heard he was being naughty again, I'd wash the naughty words out of his mouth with soap.

This threw him into hysterics. I'm talking, he slammed a couple drawers and the pantry door. As calmly as I could, I told him to knock it off... "or else!". He then screamed in a high pitched, demonic voice, "I DO WHAT I WANT!". This initially created three reactions in me simultaneously. The first was, of course, kitten punching. The second was the urge to laugh. The third was, "Crap. I need to stop saying that out loud."

The night continued with a bunch of his mouthy junk and a bunch of me trying to calm him in a way that helped him see that I understood why he was frustrated, but that it was still not okay that he was acting that way. Then Husband calls via FaceTime. Husband prefers that we turn off all the electronics in the joint when he calls because every single one of us has, at one time or another, gotten distracted and ignored what he was saying. So, as my phone rang, I turned off the show Bean was watching.

Bean throws himself on the ground, sticks his face in a pillow, screams and kicks his legs like a crazy person. I just ignored him and talked to Husband as if nothing out of the ordinary was going on. I told him after Cakes and I had gotten our chats in that if he didn't talk to his dad, I wouldn't turn the show on. He ran away and refused and then screamed in his demon voice again that I couldn't make him do anything and he wasn't scared of me. I promptly got off the phone with Husband and almost literally (but not literally) threw him in his bed. Once he was in his bed, he screamed, "IT'S ALL YOUR FAULT!". Well, I'm not sure what exactly "it" is, but I don't care anymore tonight. I was glad that I got him in bed a half hour early so I could watch Cupcake Wars in peace.

The Jeep that kills dreams

This is Husband's Jeep. It is ginormous. The picture really doesn't do justice to the magnitude of giganticness it beholds. One of my best friends is on the small side (she comes to my shoulder and I'm 5'9"). She stood next to the Jeep after Husband purchased it and noticed that the bottom of the door was above her waist and said, "This thing is taller than my v****a!". So perhaps that can give you a visual. Maybe not the right one, though.

ANYWAY... This thing was made to rock crawl. It can climb rocky terrain with ease. I had my first experience as such just a few short days ago.

I have these kids that live across the street from me that, I've gotta be honest, I'm not a fan of. One of them is mean to Bean every single time they encounter, so I tend to avoid them at all costs and send Bean to other friends' houses when he's hankering to play. These kids also leave their crap everywhere. I've found random articles of clothes (socks and shirts being the most frequent), toys, a TV remote and their razor scooters in my yard more times than I can count. All I can say is that I'm thankful I'm only renting this joint until Husband returns from Asia, because if I had to endure this craziness any longer, I might spaz out.

Last Friday evening, I was due to meet a friend for dinner. We'd had plans for at least a month. My two little sisters were going to watch my dudes, but were also due at a family function elsewhere, so I let them take my Xterra where all the car seats are so that they could take the dudes with them. I don't drive the Jeep much. I start it every week so it won't die, but I think I've only driven it once to the gas station since husband deployed. So, this was going to be my first real drive in it since we left our last military base.

Back tracking, I go walking every weekday morning with one of my homies and our kids. After I put Cakes on his bus, I stuff Bean and The Wee into my old, crappy double stroller and we walk for an hour. This stroller sucks. It sucks bad. It squeaks and it always veers to the right even when you're trying to push it straight. I hate this stroller, but I couldn't afford to replace it, so meh... whatever. After each walk, I park this beast (fully assembled) behind the Jeep. This is where the story resumes.

In my hurry to get to dinner, I totally spaced that the stroller was behind the Jeep. I backed out with ease and I did feel as though I was running over something... but it only felt like something the size of a razor scooter. The very scooters that are left in my yard from time to time. As I recounted this story briefly on facebook, I mentioned that I was slightly happy with this because I am, from time to time, a horrible person. I should have gotten out and looked, but my smug attitude kept me rolling. It didn't feel like much at all.

As I leave my driveway and hit the stop sign at the end of my street, a neighbor stops me and points behind me saying, "Is that YOURS?!". I look behind me to see my still fully assembled, mangled double stroller dangling behind me. Yes, yes it is. I couldn't believe that I had not only run it over, but that I'd mistaken it for a freaking razor scooter! How is that even possible?! Well, I assure you, it is.

As you can see, it leans to the left now instead of the right. So much so, that the front right tire no longer touches the ground and it falls over whenever you try. I know it doesn't look as bad in pictures as it does when you try to actually PUSH this thing, but I assure you... it not longer works. Luckily for me, I was able to barter for a used double stroller that actually works even better than this one did before I ran it over.