Kole's Bad Habit.

Kole loves to eavesdrop.
Maybe it's part of the "learning process."
But I've had it up to here with the learning process.  Kole is learning more than a boy his age should learn.
Like, most mornings after breakfast Kole asks, "Gonna pump a bottle, Mom?"
Um. Awkward.
Or, if we're planning on not going anywhere Kole will say, "Put your bra on, Mom?"
.....is it funny?  Or crossing a line?  Or learning?  I don't think a 2-year old needs to learn about the lactation process or anything boobie related.  But my 2 year old knows way too much about it.
Back to eavesdropping.
First, I always thought it was ease-dropping.  As in, "Look at the ease with which I am overhearing this conversation."  Hmm!  Live you learn.
Kole has always been really quiet if I am on the phone.  I always just thought he was brimming with good manners and chivalrous conduct.  Turns out the little bugger was just eavesdropping.
I've learned this because after I get off the phone Koley gives me his re-cap.  Always in question form.  I hope that's a phase.

Joey drives Mommy nuts?  Sometimes?  At night?
Ken is at work?  Coming home?  Take out meat?
Gweta get better?
Anni more happy?
Gwamma's house Friday?

At first I was just impressed.  He can pick up so much so quickly.  But things have taken a mischievous turn.  For instance.  If I am on the phone with Ken and I call him "Ken" instead of "Dad" (saying Ken just comes naturally.) Kole will call him "Ken"  for the rest of the day.  "Ken coming home soon?"  "Ken cookin' dinner?"  "Ken changing his clothes?"  "Ken give me bath?"  He says it all with bright eyes and a big smile... like I know I'm supposed to call him "Dad" but come on.  We're all grown ups here.
Yesterday he had been calling Ken... "Ken" for about an hour and just giggling every time. I told him he needs to call him Dad.  More giggling.
I said, "You need to call him Dad or I'll take your trucks away."
It got real quiet.
Then a smile ten miles wide....and he said:
"Okay, Patty."

Reasons to Go to the Gym

Ken signed us up for a Gym Membership.  Couple things here.
First, did I correctly capitalize that? "G"ym "M"embership?  I gets a little caps crazy.  But it does seem title worthy.
Real First.
I'm not obsessive about weight.  At all.  It's a number and it means nothing.  When I lived in Europe I learned the key to looking good is to simply wear your size.  Nothing tight and nothing baggy and you'll look fantastic.  Sorta been my motto.  Something to stand firmly by when I tell a size 0, 95 pound trainer... that I am a size 12 and weigh 167.  I say it with no guilt and no shame.  Not quite proudly... but I'm not embarrassed.
And I get an opened mouth look.
A look I have never known how to interpret.

Second.
I am my same "pre-baby weight."  Which also means nothing.  Because, for those of you who haven't had kids, you can be that same weight you were pre-child and look totally different.  For those of you who have had kids... quit hating.  I just lucked out.  And am married to someone who was obsessively strict about what I ate when I was pregnant.
Words to describe how I look: Saggy.  Droopy.  Downwardly.  Slack.  Floppy.  Baggy. My boobs are there but not perky like when I was 20. or 21.  or 22.  or any age before I had Kole.  (< 26).  And my butt?  Hangs out with the back of my knees.  Even my arms have become...dangle-y.
I realize these problems can be solved with a new bra, some Spanx, and a tanning pass.  That's my normal go-to.  (Add whitening strips to the mix.)  But a nice new bra would get ruined (and stinky) from breast milk and I tried to get my Spanx on.  *sigh* They aren't going past my knees.  I can't justify paying for a tanning pass when it's still sunny and hot here.  But the double down side it my Jergens Natural Glow just ran out.
Dead end.  Dead end.  Dead end.
Then Ken comes home with this Gym Pass.  (<--- Caps again. ??)
Therein lies my salvation.
Generally I would label myself as a Non-Gym Rat.  I don't like gyms all that much.   Or should I say I don't like gyms much at all. Mostly because I sign up, pay the fee, and then don't go and I feel like I wasted my money.
However!
I've been going everyday for a week.
Minus the one day I didn't go.
After going once, and realizing confirming that "It is true.  I don't like to work out"  I have still kept going for 2 reasons.
1.  No kids are allowed at the Gym.
2.  Every machine has its own TV.

Who WOULDN'T go work out?

When I come home Ken asks what I did.  Elliptical.
How far did you go?  Hmmm.  I don't know.
How many calories did you burn?  Oh! I don't know.
Were you in your target heart rate?  Beats me.  Did you know Kourtney wants to have a water birth?
Is Kourtney someone you met at the Gym today?  No.  She's one of the Kardashians.  That's what I watch when I go.

And poor Khloe had to go and watch a real water birth with Kourtney.  Psht.  Tough stuff.
Ken says I should go and focus on my long term goals.

.....

Goals like buy my own TV so I can watch it at home without putting on work out clothes?
Good goal.

(I am down 3 pounds in one week.  Something is working.  Oh!  ME!  I'm working...out.)

What Am I Missing Here?

I watched The Artist last night.  
(Look at me!  Putting the kidlets to bed and enjoying a night in front of the TV.)
I was in the mood for something... artsy.  And with the given title and the Academy Award backing it up I felt confident it would be golden.
I was let down.
Was I missing something?
I like to think of myself as an Intellectual.  A Renaissance Woman.  Some call me a Brainiac.
*sighs*
Fans.  I'm only repeating what they have said.
So being the Deep Thinker that I am I felt like this movie should have spoke to me and my sagacity.
Eh eh.
Nothing.
Sure, I enjoyed it.
But I didn't "Picture of the Year" enjoy it.
I wasn't moved to make changes in my life or to treat people people or to donate to ASPCA.
I wasn't even moved to watch more black and white movies or listen to 1320 AM.
I was just moved to return it to the RedBox and hope it returned my $1.28.

Image Here.