NEW HOST,WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!

SOOOOOOOOO,so your original host [Abby]passed BABY BOK CHOY on to the star of the pack,
ME,NOAH DIZON-MAUGHAN.

That's not really how it works, son...

About a month ago I had to explain same-sex marriage to The Boy.  One of my future business partners is married to another woman.  The partners and our spouses get together not infrequently, and Noah has hung out with us a number of times.

The last time we had the group at our place for dinner, Noah asked me about J and E.

     "Mom, J is a girl, right?"
     "Yes, she is."
     "And she's married to E?"
     "Yes, they are married.  They are married, and they have kids."
     "And E is a girl?"
     "Yes, she is a girl, too."
     "So, a girl is married to another girl?"
     "Yes, J, who is a girl, is married to E, who is also a girl."
     *silence*
     "Mama, girls can be married to girls?"
     "Yes, as long as they love each other, girls can marry girls."
     "Girls can marry boys, or they can marry girls?"
     "Yes."
     *silence - a very pregnant silence*  But, I didn't want to push it.  I wanted to see where he was going with this conversation.
     "Mama...  If a girl can marry a girl, can a boy marry a boy?"
     "Well, yeah.  As long as they love each other, they can.  What do you think about that?"
     "I think that's pretty awesome!"

Noah hasn't brought up the subject since...  Well, until Saturday.  The Boy is only allowed to play video games on the weekend, and only for an hour.  I know.  I am a mean mom.

I asked him to turn off his game because it had been an hour.  He was not happy.  He wanted to finish the level, but I wouldn't let him.  In his anger, he turned to James and said, "Dad, I wish you would divorce mama!!  I wish you would divorce her and marry another boy so that we can all play video games together!  Apparently GIRLS don't like video games."

Just Don't Panic, Alright?

Tonight Noah put the toilet paper tube in the toilet and flushed it. Yeah. It was not awesome. After spending about five minutes telling him, not yelling at him, that what he did was wrong, how it was wrong, and that some privileges were going to be taken away, he said to us:

"Mama, Dad, I feel ashamed. I am sorry that I put the toilet paper thing in toilet, but right now is not the time to panic. If you panic, it will only make the problem worse. If you don't panic, then you will come up with a solution, and it will be fixed. I am sure by tomorrow it will all be better."

No one was panicking, but I am sure he is right - by tomorrow everything will be all better. :D

I did my very best... This time!

I spent the better part of the day today cleaning the house, top to bottom. James was at a conference, and there is no better way to spend a sunny, warm Saturday than cleaning. And when I say "cleaning," I mean CLEAN-ING! I always try to involve Noah, so that means rinsing and stacking the dishes, cleaning picture frames, and cleaning his room.

Today was a particularly hard day to get him to clean his room. I had no problem getting him to do anything else, including mopping. He just didn't want to do clean his room. No matter how much bribing, then threatening, then just full on yelling could get him to clean his room. Finally, I closed the door to his room while he was in there and told him he could only open the door if he was cleaning. He cried. I felt bad. But not bad enough to open the door.

After a couple of minutes, he finally stopped crying, opened the door and said he was ready to clean his room by himself. Fine, I told him.

He came out of his room about five minutes later and pronounced that he was all done. He cleaned his room. I told him I just needed to finish washing the dishes, then I would inspect his room. I asked if he tried his best, and he assured me he did.

"So, if you tried your best, everything is cleaned up, right?"

"Right."

"And that includes the stuff on your bed, right?"

"Uhhhhh. Yeah. But, there might be stuff on my bed still."

"If you tried your best to clean everything, then there shouldn't be anything on your bed."

"Okay."

"But, if you didn't try your best, and you lied to me about trying your best, what should your punishment be?"

"No video games today."

"Sounds like a fair punishment."

*Pause*

"Uh, I better double check to make sure I did my best."

About five minutes later: "I really did my very best this time, mama!" With that assurance, I went to his room, and he really did his very best! Noah cleaned everything. He even took the sheets of his bed.

Apparently, making him choose his own punishment is what "motivates" him to do what is asked of him. Let's see how long this works!

Conversations with a five year old boy...

As Noah was getting ready to go to Lolo and Lola's house today, he asked me what the "pocket" in his underwear was for. I don't know. I don't have a "pocket" in my underwear, how would I know? I asked him what he thought it was for.

"Is it to put your hand in?" No...

"What if your titi itches and you have to scratch?" Still no.

"Well, I think it's for your titi to come out for air." Absolutely not.

My answer to his question? "Ask your dad. His underwear have the same thing. He knows what it's for."

Things I love...

While in class, perusing the interwebs, I came across this post on The Pioneer Woman's blog. And it inspired me. Yeah, I know that Valentine's Day was a couple of days ago, but I don't care. It's nice to remind myself of the things I love. As a law student, I feel as though I am losing a bit of what makes me human, what makes me me. The law is so dry, so detached. So rational. And I hate that I am forgetting that I used to be a loving, compassionate and passionate woman.

And I was just called out by a very close friend for acting more like a "lawyer" than a "sister." It kinda sucked hearing that.

Soooo... This list. I write it to remember the things I love. To remind myself of who I am, what keeps me grounded, and the things that make me happy. This list is ever evolving, as it should be. And I hope that I can remember to keep it updated.

And finally, the list. I love:

James.

Noah.

Codie, but only when he's been freshly groomed and isn't trying to eat my food. Okay, not just then, but all the time.

My mom.

My dad.

My seesters, even though they are crazy. And they drive me crazy. But, I am crazy, too. And it's all good.

MY GORGEOUS AND BRILLIANT NIECES.

Red booty shoes.

Grey knee-high boots.

Purple fleece pants.

Pink earbuds.

MacBook laptops. In particular, MY MacBook laptop.

My besties.

Kare-Kare.

Bagoong.

Spicy vinegar.

Homemade quiche.

Blue fine tip pens with caps.

Good teachers.

Passionate professors.

The interwebs for this opportunity to share this list with you.

Oh, and I love you, whoever you are (Vangie).

Noah-isms

Noah: "Mama, I really want to say a bad word. Can I?"

Me: "No, Noah. Absolutely not."

Noah: "Please! I really want to!"

Me: "Noah. I said no."

Noah: "Pleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaaaaaaasse! I really want to say A-S-S."

Me: "No!"

Noah, covering his mouth with his hands, in a very loud whisper: "Aaaaaaaaaaassssssssssssssssssss."

Then, with a very satisfied look on his face: "I said it."

Tonight, as I was trying to get The Boy ready for bed, he ran and hid from me. He's not that sneaky, and hid behind the door in the bathroom. I walked into the bathroom with his pajamas and underwear in hand, closed the door and told him, "Noah, it is time to get ready for bed. Please stop playing around." Disappointed that I discovered him, he asked how I knew where he was hiding. I told him, "I am your mama, I always know where you are hiding." His response: "Mama, you aren't that smart. I know they don't teach you that in law school."