It's That Special Time Again

Zeke will be three at the end of next month.

It's time for potty training!

We started last week at Grandma Nancy's house and over her carpet.

It's not going badly, but it's not going especially well, either.

He's dry most of the day. But then, suddenly, he's wet.

And, at least once a day, this is what happens when he is supposed to be sitting on the pot.

Annual Growth

How much hair can a person grow in a year?

If you start with this,

This much!

My Thoughts on the TSA Patdowns

In the last week, I've been patted down twice at airports. I got the patdown because I set off the metal detectors.

Was it like a sexual assault? Let's put it this way:  if my Beehives asked if a boy could touch them that way since he wasn't touching their actual girl parts, I'd say not on your life. No one is allowed to get that close with that kind of pushing and feeling--I don't care what side of the hand they are using. And no one should be feeling around inside the waistband of your jeans without a lot more evidence than "you set off a metal detector." Since I was wearing an undershirt, they didn't touch my skin. Most people would experience a TSA agent going under their clothes to touch their skin. Yuck. Can you say "unreasonable search"?

I did not request a private screening room. Why on earth would you want someone doing the patdown in private with no witnesses?

There is a theme among the pictures I've seen (Friday's WSJ front page, for example) and the people I observed getting the patdown.

It's mostly women who have set off the metal detectors, and for two apparent reasons:

1. A figure that requires supportive undergarments. Both TSA agents acknowledged this to me. The first even complimented the fit of my bra.

2. People with implanted medical devices. TSA agent #2 pushed too hard on my port and demanded to know what it was. She hadn't asked if I had a medical device, and since I don't normally think about it, I hadn't mentioned it. I had to pull down the neck of my shirt to show her my scar and the bump under my skin. It's about three fingers below my clavicle. I explained that it's for cancer, that mine is made of plastic, and that it doesn't have enough metal to harm an MRI machine.

So from my observations, we're scrutinizing curvy women and women with fake knees and port-o-caths. In other words, we're wasting most of our time searching people who are not remotely dangerous. And everybody knows it, including the TSA agents.

This has got to be the easiest screening ever for a would-be terrorist to avoid. Just don't put metal on your body.

Back Safe Home Again

We're back from Boron!

We had a very nice time.

I shot a 44 Magnum and used a scope for the first time.

Victor decided he wants to live in Boron when he grows up because there is a lot of dirt to dig in.

And I got another patdown, this time at LAX. It was even more aggressive.

Victor Is Right

Yesterday we went to the dentist. Zeke hopped right up into the chair, but Victor was wary.

Victor was also correct about something.

He has four loose teeth.

FOUR!

Growing in Love

Jeremy and I have been married for eight and a half years, and I can tell that our love has really grown because we have spent the past two nights sleeping in a tiny queen size bed, and we're not miserable.

Luxury Travel

Yesterday we took a long trip. But since I got to sit next to Zeke instead of a full-size adult, it was no biggie. The main event of the day was when I set of the metal detector for the FIRST TIME in my life.

I got the full pat down.

A Disappointment

Now that I have ample locks, I require hair appointments.

Unfortunately, when I arrived at Ulta this morning, no stylists were there. Apparently, Sarah, who cut my hair last time, "is not longer with us." And it further appears that she deleted her appointments from the system, leaving me high and dry and embarking on a trip to my in-laws sans style.

Boo, Sarah!

Spoon Strategy

In an effort to trick the Irony Fairies into returning my spoons, I have purchased six new spoons at Target.

I'm glad Oneida offers six-packs of teaspoons. Especially as the new spoons nest so nicely with the old spoons.

Spoon Update

Spoon number five has been discovered in a container of freezer jam in the freezer.

Victor thinks freezer jam is like ice cream. Jeremy thought that was odd until he tried a bite. Yum.

Kitchen Shears

Some time last year my Henkel kitchen shears disappeared from their spot on top of the fridge.

I cleared the top of the fridge and cleaned everything. No scissors.

I moved the fridge. No scissors. But I knocked a pine-scented candle off the top and its glass shattered everywhere behind the fridge. That was fun to clean up.  

I searched everywhere I could think. No scissors.

Two days ago I was doing a regular top-of-the-fridge cleaning, and there they were. Right on top. Slightly open. Very dusty.

It is 100% impossible they have been there the whole time. 100%.

Spoons

I assumed that we would start losing teaspoons when the boys got older. Since I'm attached to my flatware, I have been mentally bracing for that day.

It has come.

EIGHT of my twelve teaspoons have disappeared. Since they are not allowed out of the kitchen, let alone the house, I don't know how this happened. Zeke seems the most likely culprit because Victor has been responsibly using spoons for years.

I even asked Jeremy if he has been cooking methamphetamines or crack or something, which I hear requires spoons, just in case.

He said no.

Fun Mom Goes Nonfiction

I hear learning is supposed to be fun, so we got some nonfiction children's books at the library today.

Two books are on desert habitats, in preparation for our trip to Boron. One even has Joshua Trees on the cover. Which is highly appropriate.

One book is on wolves, a subject of great interest since we started watching Beauty and the Beast every day. (Today's question: can wolves swim?)

One book is about nocturnal animals, which Victor studied in school last week.

And finally, a book about the Pilgrims and Thanksgiving, just in case they don't cover that in school any more.

My final thought about the library is this: do librarians take courses in Grouchiness and Unfriendliness? I mean, come on. If you don't want common folk wandering into your place of work and touching everything, library science may not be for you.

Mansfield Fine Design

My very talented Aunt Keeta has a new website for her home design company. Fun! And pretty. Very, very pretty.

Research

I have a little research project going, and I need some female assistants who know Mormon men over age, say 23.

Here is the gig:

1. Go find your YW Medallion.

2. Show it to your husband/father/brother/male friend. This will not work if the male is not Mormon.

3. Say, "Hey, look what I found," and act as if he should know what the Medallion is without revealing its identity.

4. Using cleverness, determine whether or not the male person knows what it is.

5. Report back.

Results Preview: Jeremy had no idea what it was. No idea.

Hallo-didn't

 Halloween is not my favorite thing. Still, I tried to be fun.

For example, we went to a pumpkin patch and took a hay ride. Or, to be more precise, we looked at a lot of expensive pumpkins on a church lawn and then rode around the church parking lot behind an old blue tractor. During this trip I realized the TAMN was right. My point-and-shoot is lame, and I didn't even know it. Oh, well. At least I didn't annoy a wagon-full of people by draping my child over the hay bales while knocking other people's elbows in pursuit of the perfectly staged hayride shot.

 We didn't buy the $35 church pumpkins. We got these instead, at the grocery store. Except for the little one, which spontaneously grew in our garden this summer. We didn't get around to carving them, so they still make nice porch decorations.

 We did get some costumes for the trunk-or-treat. Zeke was a garage-sale lion, and Victor was Uncle Peter.

The truly fun part of Halloween was a visit from Peter and Candice and cousin Laura!