"she's aged a lot" and shit that doesn't belong in the toilet....

The saga of broken shit continues...

Mac let his laptop sit in a pan of rice for 24 hours. He then spent over an hour replacing the keys on the keyboard before booting the laptop up. At first, it wasn't looking good. The lights all came on, but nothing else seemed to happen. He left it alone for about half an hour, when all of a sudden....it started booting up!! Holy shit the rice trick fucking worked!! Except...he then had the hardest time (and I totally expected the laptop to go flying at the wall and shatter into a thousand pieces, because that would've been really cool to see and also would have been one hell of a way to go and end the life of the Zombie laptop....It's ALIVE!!) entering his password because some of the keys were sticking or stuck, making it hard to type. That seems to have finally worked itself out, for now, but a new laptop (.....*sigh* it was supposed to be a netbook originally, but somehow morphed into a notebook last night when the actual purchase was being made. THAT was not a pretty argument, however I am quite proud of myself for not bringing up my ruined/ forgotten birthday request as an example of how I never get what I ask for and how Mac always gets exactly what he wants.....well until he reads the blog!)

So the Zombie laptop, returned from it's water-drenched grave will be with us until the new NOTE(not net)book arrives, in the next couple of weeks. 

And Nixon's trail of destruction and terror continues.

Yesterday, I made a skype phone call to my grandparents, during which Nixon quietly played in another room. (Danger! Danger! Danger!!) Before I get to the danger, I have to share this awesome conversation with my grandparents about their 54th wedding anniversary:

grandma: blah, blah, blah...very subtle "do you know what the 20th of this month is?"

me: "I don't know...I'm going to guess, I'm sure someone has a birthday that day...I mean someone in the world had to have been born on that day, right?"

grandma: "Well, yes, your uncle tim was born that day...but that's not what I meant."

me: "Well, I wasn't totally wrong now was I?"

grandpa: "Marsha, this will go quicker if you just tell her." (I always love when he drops the Marsha bomb on her ass!!)

grandma: "It's our anniversary. Our 54th anniversary"

me: "Holy crap! You've been waking up and looking at the same face across from your coffee cup every morning for 54 years?!?!? What is that like?"

grandpa: "Well not the same face. She's aged a lot in 54 years!"

grandma: "That is not true"

me: "Do you ever pretend she's someone else just to switch it up?" (sadly neither of them answer my serious inquiry here....)

grandpa: "My sister's been married for 69 years last month."

me: "Well that's kind of a magical number I'll never reach....

grandma: "I don't get it"

me: "...because I got married much later in life than you guys did. But wow! 54 and 69 years. Shit...opps shoot! I was happy just to make it to 3 years this year! Now I'm not feeling so accomplished, thanks gram"

grandpa: "Beck, we all had to get to 3 years before we could see 54 years."

Every now and then, my grandpa says some really deep things! I also love that he said she aged a lot!!  My grandpa is an awesome guy!!

Now back to my story...
While that awesome conversation was going on, Nixon was playing quietly. He was playing car wash. He was washing his matchbox cars. He was washing his cars, in the toilet, and rinsing them in my bathroom sink!! And he was being super quiet about it too! My bathroom looked like a flood zone. Nixon got tossed into the bathtub (after I filled it with water, of course!). The cars were given a bleach bath in the kitchen sink. And I....learned anytime a toddler is quiet AND out of your sight, he's getting into trouble or sleeping! 
Nixon was NOT sleeping.

While writing this blog, Nixon flooded the kitchen...with Nursery Water. Seriously...fuck my life!!!  Is it too late to rethink this whole parenting gig?? Or maybe I should just not be writing blogs while Nixon's awake?? Nah...what fun would that be right?? I mean that's seriously just taking the easy way out!

Here's to another flooded room in the house. 

OR

Another clean floor. 
See...cup half full kind of day! Of course it's a bullshit way of looking at it, but it's keeping me from looking for that donation box......

It's Monday so why wouldn't the world end today??

Haha....So, remember this post  from just yesterday, when I thought I was getting divorced? Yeah that was funny wasn't it? Turns out I was actually predicting the future just a bit too. 

Mac let me sleep in this morning and he got up with Nixon. I love when he does this. (He got cut loose from work early last night, so not only did we get to see each other for a bit, for the first time all weekend, but I knew Mac was home when I fell asleep last night.) It was nice. Until he work me up like this:

Mac: It's 9:30 babe.
Me: (some kind of noise that is totally unintelligible)
Mac: Nixon spilled water on my computer and it won't turn on
Me: Are you serious??
Mac: Yeah (and he left the room)
Me: shit, well I'm awake now

So the story is, Mac left his water bottle next to his laptop while he was fixing Nixon's breakfast. Nixon managed to pull off a couple keys and then spill the water (because the top wasn't securely on...so not totally Nixon's fault). He was so quiet when it happened Mac hadn't even noticed what happened, he thought the powercord came loose at first. Nixon even tried to clean up the mess with wipes, before Mac gave him breakfast. 

The laptop is in a big pan of rice, but it's not looking good. We'll see, but it might really be time for that new laptop. 

And Mac's desk is now an automatic trip to Time Out for Nixon. There's no other option. Also, I'm pretty sure Mac's not allowed to have liquids on that desk anymore either, since this was also partly his fault.

The "best" part??? This all happened while I was sleeping, so this is in no way, shape or form my fault at all!!! It's a wonderful feeling :) I mean I'm heartbroken that Mac's laptop took a bath and all....but wasn't me!

broken shite + facebook will eventually lead to Star Wars...true story!

Before I get to the awesomeness that is the title, let me say my marriage is saved!!! Mac found the V key! Turns out, it had slid under the space bar. And, he claims, he wouldn't have divorced me over a missing key in the first place, since the button still worked it was just missing. Had it not worked it would've been taken into consideration. Apparently. 

On with the story!

To spread the word about my blogs, I post the most recent ones in a link on my facebook page. Today's was no exception. Sometimes it gets a couple "like", maybe a comment or two, sometimes nothing. It is what it is. This morning's blog was commenting genius from my friends and I felt the need to share because I know not all my blog readers are on my facebook friends list. So I'm going to copy and paste the comments, remove the names and the do something creative with colors so you, my entertained readers, can see and identify the commentators somehow other than names. Because trust me, this is pretty common stuff with my friends and you don't want to miss it! And, best of all, it all goes hand-in-hand with the previous blog! Its the circle of life of a blog!
So here it is...Enjoy the mindless and yet deeply potentially offensive thought processes of my friends and myself!

(1)omg- thanks to Owen my laptop is missing two keys, the "up" and "down" keys, which makes it difficult to scroll web pages because those keys are so convenient. Said laptop would be missing more if it wasn't for my scary growl.... well more like I check on him every two minutes if he's not within eyesight. Us women got the screwy end of the deal here! ;) 

(2)quick, Rea, get some black electrical tape and white out...make a new 'V' key and see how long it take him to notice. hehe

Rea Wilcox-Ball Good idea 2! But I think he'd notice a lot faster than you'd think, his laptop has arabic letters on the keys too! lol

(3)Mac will give you shit over it but that's what Mac does. I can't see him being upset enough to divorce you over it. If you had fucked up some of his Star Wars stuff, however... It was nice knowing you cause that shit is punishable by death and it says so in the Constitution.

 Rea Wilcox-Ball haha 3, his Star Wars stuff has been relocated and safely removed from Nixon's reach by myself on several occasions as he's gotten older. I know my role in that aspect.
And to be fair...I was the one whose mp3 player got a coffee bath courtsey of Nixon, so a missing key seems petty in comparison.

(4)I'm still stuck on how he will get a new laptop, because a letter is missing...As a guy, 1 or 2 shits a day is sufficient for me unless something is wrong with my stomach (illness, food poisoning, etc.), nose picking/farting/etc. should only be done in private whenever possible (Manners 101), 4 shits a day and extremely odorous gas makes me wonder what he's eating or what is physically wrong with him and is it a serious illness?, Star Wars are just bad movies (writing, plot, acting (except for Harrison Ford and Chewbacca)). As for the parenting stuff, not there and not a parent.

 Rea Wilcox-Ball haha...4 his laptop's old and he's been pricing new ones for a while. This might be the final push to get him the new one. We're working on the nose picking at home only. Mac eats lots of spicy foods and puts spice on everything.
Chewbacca carried that entire series! :)

(3)Hey now. Star Wars is like the Bible on film. You don't speak ill of the Word. It's just bad luck. And, yeah, Mac's shitting habits are a thing of legend and going more than once or twice in a day is not normal. At least, as far as I've seen. I don't go that often and I have a medical condition that does weird shit to my stomach and intestines.

(5)Effing awesome! We should run off and live happily ever after with Beyonce and leave Mac and Cam to live out their days fighting over the toilet...
(4)Ur right 3..Star Wars is like the bible...full of outrageous stories and inconsistencies...Not to mention incest...Star Wars is horrible, all 6 of them
(3)*sigh* Perhaps comparing Star Wars to the Bible wasn't a good comparison. I actually LIKE Star Wars and I'm pretty sure no one's been killed over it... 

Rea Wilcox-Ball Star Wars and the Bible are both epic works of fiction that have led to millions of stupid discussions about the pointless justification of almost any topic known to man in relation to Star Wars and/or the Bible. AND both Star Wars and the Bible have a figure that came back from death (or close to death Anikan I'm looking at you) to be followed by and defended by thousands of people and it doesn't always end well for said followers. 

Rea Wilcox-Ball And how in the hell did a blog about broken shit spin off into a rant about Star Wars vs the Bible in epic works of fiction?!?!?

(5)Cuz that's what blogs do! Too bad Mac didn't win Peter's laptop giveaway...I could've saved your marriage.
(3)Because, Rea, in the end, it always comes back to Star Wars.

Moral of the story....there isn't one. But my geeky atheist husband isn't ready to get rid of me yet, his computer is fixed, I have a lesbian offer on the table (yeah baby!!) and I probably offended or helped to offended Christians and Star Wars fans alike, all in one afternoon....on facebook...with the help of some friends. All because Nixon managed to pull a few keys off Mac's laptop.

Parenthood, it is so not what I signed up for.

Even Wonder Woman dropped the ball sometimes, right?!?!?

Someday, when Nixon comes to me and asks me why his daddy and I aren't married anymore, I'll tell him the truth....Mommy couldn't do everything at once and Daddy's shit got broken in the process, and we called it a day. See I take the blame, the truth is told and it's not Nixon's fault. 

That day is today, by the way. Not our divorce, but the day Mac's shit got broken when I couldn't do it all. I'm not a goddamned spider, I only have 2 eyes and they happen to be located on the front of my head! Damned evolution has not caught up with parenting toddlers obviously!

I had to unload the dishwasher, reload it with pots and pans so I could make Mac's dinner to send to work with him. We have a storm in the area and it may or may not affect us enough to keep Mac at work longer than his scheduled shift, so better to be safe than starving! Nixon was supposed to be on the sofa watching "mater", I came out to check on him and once walked by Mac's computer. 

And had a "this is the end of my marriage moment". It was missing 4 keys!! I found 3, but I can not find the V. The fucking V is gone!!! I've looked everywhere, Nixon's room, bathroom, kitchen, garbages, cat litter....can not find it. So, I guess, Mac will (a) be getting the new computer he's been eyeing and (b) get all bragging rights to mastering the parenting skills since this happened to HIS shit on MY watch. 

However...in my defense, this would never happen during Mac's watch for a few reasons.
#1. Mac is never NOT in front of his computer
#2. Mac never does anything that requires him to leave the room for a lengthy period of time without me watching Nixon, this includes his 4 daily shits! Yes, count them 4 shits, and he gets to do them in peace. Me? NO, my bathroom is command central as far as Nixon's concerned and since he's potty training he has to "monkey see, monkey do" somewhere, right? So while Mac gets to relax when vacating the hostages, I get to entertain a toddler who likes to get up close and personal during the cleaning phase of that process....yeah, it's, umm, interesting I suppose. 
#3. Mac does not cook, so Mac does not realize that I can not always do it while Nixon is sleeping and have it done in time for Mac to take to work. 
#4. Mac is not Wonder Woman....he doesn't have the breast for the costume. Frankly, neither do I, but I can fake it!
#5. I am home with Nixon all day and I have to leave the room and do other stuff or I'll lose my ever loving mind at some point, Mac has that point as well, but usually I'm around so he never reaches it. 
#6. I had a point here but I lost it somewhere around Mac's 4 daily shits.... seriously, is it all men or did I just marry a really regular one?!?! By the way, this is the same man who has no problem discussing his farts but is trying to discourage our son from picking his nose. Like one is worse than the other?!?!? I have no idea if that's true (farts are worse than picking your nose or vice versa) but I will say, boogers don't make me turn green and almost puke with no warning. But a small breeze in my direction followed by a glance at my husband, with that silly guilty look on his face and him saying "What??? Did you fart??" can have that effect on me.

Okay so the moral of the story is....because I try to do everything and epically failed, Mac now is the proud (well not so proud when he wakes up and sees what happened) owner of a laptop missing the V-key and someday when we get divorced our reason for ending the marriage will be: "Wife is not Wonder Woman"   or "Bitch done lied to me and my shit be ruined!" You'll see us on Divorce Court or in Judge Judy's court room.

The good news is, I found and replaced the Z,X & C keys, honey!

 

 

The bad news is, you don't love me anymore. It's more like you "lo e" me now. And you might not even do that haha

Irony: I write about PMM and then Nixon gets compared to a pet and I cancel my magazine subscription

this is what happens when stupid people breed and then write about it

As a mother of an only child, I turn my cheek to a lot of ignorant and occasionally well meaning comments, about siblings. The link above is fully ignorant and not at all helpful towards any only child. Sure, the author only dignifies only children with a single paragraph, but there was one sentence that ignited a fury in me I still haven't fully put out. 

"Only children are a little like pets, cosseted and lavished with undivided focus."

Now I have heard a lot of insanely stupid children vs. pet comparisons before, but really Nixon is nothing like a spoiled tea cup poodle or whatever the crap those ankle biters are called. Nixon has the comprehension skills to know what "no" means and he actually hears it frequently, despite his poor lonely status as an only child. I mean, it's not like we keep him locked in the basement and never take him out in public. He does go to stores, the zoo, OMG...we even took him to the movie theater AND he had to wait for the previews to end before he could watch the movie!! The horror of it all!! A dog, cat, rabbit, rat, snake or any other pet really doesn't have that comprehension. I don't compare children to my cats. Well, I compare Nixon to our cats, but that's because Nixon doesn't sleep on my pillow and kick me in the head (Amber, I'm looking at you), or try to stretch out so far and take up so much of the bed I'm forced to move onto Mac's side of the bed and give her my side of the bed (Arwen, I'm looking at you). Nixon also doesn't mew while he's trying to curl up onto my ass in the middle of the night (Arwen) or fight/eat my hair when I'm trying to do push ups or crunches on the living room floor (Amber). Finally, Nixon doesn't think attempted murder is an option when he's hungry (Amber, tripping me is not cool...ever).

The result of this article was more than just my anger and disgust. I actually subscribe to Parenting magazine, which printed this article. This is not the first article they've published that has the usual pro-sibling drivel but this has become the last one I'm going to pay to read. I emailed the magazine and asked that they cancel my subscription and explained exactly why I was canceling the subscription. I received a reply within 24 hours, explaining my subscription is good until August 2015 and how I could cancel it. Not one single regretful word in the entire email. Yeah, I made the right choice. It's canceled and I feel good defending my family, my son and only child in general.  

By the way, on the whole, I don't know too many parents who find it acceptable to compare a pet to a child. I know people who do it with the best of intentions but it's just not the same. I love Arwen to death, and honestly  in our wedding vows I told Mac "I love you more than anything...except Arwen. She was here first." And I was not joking. Nixon and Arwen are tied for 1st place in my heart, when Nixon goes to bed Arwen gets to snuggle with me. I rank people who give me advice on how to handle Nixon with tips that work with their pets the same as I rank people who give me advice on how to handle Nixon and they have no children. Umm....it's not real high. I'll just leave it there. 

Kids are not pets.

Kids are not pets. 

Kids.Are.Not.Pets.

 Only child or not, there is never a child who is a pet. Except maybe Jacob and the rest of the wolf pack from the Twilight series. Well, when they're in wolf form. But they'd be big ass pets. And I am not cleaning up after an accident one of them has, so they'd better be housebroken!

  

Arwen- my cat and an actual pet, but don't tell her, I'm pretty sure she's convinced she's really human and royalty at that! But she's a pet none-the-less. She just happens to have some serious travel miles logged over the years!

Jacob Black- the only possible child/pet hybid. Although less my child and more eye candy and drool worthy yumminess. As long as he's housebroken otherwise...there's the door, Eye Candy.

Nixon- my child, who while occasionally acts like an animal is NOT an animal and should never be compared to one!

Owning the Parenthood Walk of Shame!

Note to self: anything that requires taking Nixon into public while pushing his naptime back a bit...is a BAD idea. In fact, tying your own tubes at home with butter knives and tooth picks would be a better idea than taking Nixon out in an effort to push back his naptime. Calling your ex and telling him he's still sexy and all you ever think about....well c'mon now that will get you put into the looney bin, let's be honest. To say that, I'd have to be delusional!!

Get to the point, Rea.....

Since Mac is on midnights, he sleeps before going to work, and I try to get Nixon out of the house for at least an hour, giving him a bit of total silent sleep. Yesterday I decided I wanted to check mail (a good 25-30 minute round trip drive) and grab a box of bleach for my hair since I needed to get rid of the scary roots that were poking through again. Now, I did make one fatal error in judgment when leaving the house. I left without a diaper and wipes.

We checked mail, no issue other than Nixon running up and down the wheelchair ramp three times, giggling the entire time.

Off to the store we went. Nixon decided to take the stairs up to the second floor, so up we went. We grabbed the bleach for my hair and then I let Nixon wander around for a few minutes. (BAD idea...very bad idea!) I smelled something.
"Nixon, did you poop?"
Nixon: "no poop, momma" as he darts off to the toy cars aisle
We wander around that aisle just looking, Nixon never asked for a toy once, just pointed at the different cars/trucks/airplanes and trains. Finally, I realize he DID poop and I DON'T have any diapers or wipes with me so we have to go home now!

This is not going to end well.

I start gently leading him out of the toy section, without a fight. Until he realizes we're leaving and he tries to run back to the toy section! I hold his hand and we stand in one place for a few seconds while I explain we have to go home now.
Have you ever heard a banshee scream?? That high-pitched, ear bleeding tone that goes on forever?? Yeah, apparently Nixon is part Banshee because he's got that noise down pat! He throws himself on the ground and refuses to move. SO I pick him up. And continue walking to the register. There's one open, with a cashier I see frequently who's always friendly with Nixon. SCORE! I beeline for it, carrying a bucking bronco child, formerly known as Nixon, to pay for my one item, when I realize...I have to put Nixon down to dig my wallet out of my enormous purse! Thankfully, still no one else in line behind us. I smile, put Nixon on the ground and grab my id and wallet.

Of course, as I'm swiping my card and almost in the clear, Nixon tries to make a dash for it just as someone gets in line behind us. I grab his arm and lift him up popping him onto my hip without a thought. And the screaming begins again. The cashier, familiar with us, smiles kindly and says "Bad day?"
I shrug and do my best to act like I don't want to drop Nixon off in the nearest donation box, and say "Eh, who knows, he's 2". As he continues to scream and the woman in line behind me is shaking her head. I'm pretty sure my ears were bleeding as I walked away and went downstairs.

It used to be the walk of shame was the morning after a one night stand, going home in the same clothes you left in the night before. Now? As a parent? The walk of shame is leaving any public place with a screaming child and getting the dirty hairy eyeball looks from strangers who you've never seen before but you know think you are the WORST mother in the world at that very moment in time.
There are a couple ways you can deal with the Parenthood Walk of Shame.
*1- hang your head, with your face bright red and utter an apology to anyone around you for your child being a child
*2- OWN that walk of shame.

I do number 2. It makes people much more uncomfortable when they realize you are already aware of the fact you know your child is causing a scene and you are the reason for it. Here's what I did yesterday.
As we were leaving, and people were staring at my screaming child and a part of me wanted to tell Nixon to "shut the fuck up" I fell back on my humor. While holding my screaming banshee son, instead of apologizing to strangers I'd never seen before, I apologized to Nixon...for his mother being the devil and being so mean.
It sounded like this.
Me: "I know buddy. I'm sorry your mom is the devil and is making you leave without getting you a toy. And being the son of the devil means screaming is perfectly acceptable behavior. I get it, but I don't think everyone else around you, listening and staring gets it. Maybe if you scream louder they'll leave us alone."

Yeah, I got a lot of head shakes and eyerolls from people. You know what else? I got the satisfaction of knowing those self-righteous shits were listening to me speaking softly to my son, because I never raised my voice to Nixon, I spoke closely into his ear so he could hear me, over his own screaming. Someone muttered something about "nice parenting", I thanked them.

It's all about owning something. Toddlers, preschoolers, kids in general...they all have bad days. They'll thrown temper tantrums. I should've left and said "the hell with" what I was buying. But I didn't. So I had to deal with the fallout of it all. Thankfully, he's only one kid throwing one tantrum, albeit a very loud and impressive one!

****************************************************************************************************************************
On a separate note, it seems Nixon is getting ready to potty train and we'll be doing it naked and standing up.
It began with his refusal to wear a diaper or undies. Then he started standing in front of the toilet. So far in 3 days: he's spent over 4 hours naked, an hour in 2 pairs of undies, had 5 accidents, cleaned up 2 of the accidents and flushed the toilet no fewer than 15 times in 10 minutes!
His last accident last night, before bed, he came over to me "Momma I nakid!!", he had been wearing underwear prior to this moment. Then I heard "I clean it, I clean it!" I rush over to see what he's cleaning and it's a small puddle right next to the toilet! AWESOME!! No seriously, that's the closet he's been yet!. So we clean it together, he flushes the toilet "bye bye pee" and it's jammie time.

Now if only he would stop pulling on his penis! I swear he's trying to pull it OFF his body!

Pardon me but you mistakenly replaced my baby with this grown-ass child and I'd like my baby back!

A few weeks ago, Mac and I discussed what to do with Nixon's hair. It was growing long again and it turns out, he's got some thick and curly hair (like mine) which does not handle the humidity of the island very well. His whole head sweats, pretty much within minutes of being outside. His hair starts to curl in the back and the summer was only beginning to get hot. I had wanted to let it grow out. But, once again, I agreed to let Mac make a parenting call when he suggested we take Nixon for a REAL haircut this week. I knew it was in Nixon's best interest, because going from hot outside to cool inside with wet hair was only begging for him to get sick at some point...but I hated how freaking upset he got last time we took him to get his haircut.

So, yesterday during his nap, I snuck out and hit the store. I bought: 2 brand new Cars 2 shirts for him (1 that he'd get to choose and wear to his haircut in the morning), 3 new toy cars and a bag of candy he'd never had before but that I deemed safe enough for him to have. The toys and candy got put into his new backpack (which he likes) and the shirts hidden until this morning. Now, to some it sounds like I spoil Nixon, but after his meltdown last time we got his hair cut at the barber shop and how much LOUDER he's gotten in the months since, I prefer to think of it as well-prepared.

This morning Mac came home from work (he had a quick trip in for awards and the usual bullshit waste of an hour plus drive time), we all got ready and off we went. Nixon was excited to see his new tee shirts and got dressed with little fight. A couple pieces of candy got Nixon into the barber shop and the new cars kept him occupied while we waited for a chair to open for him. (Well, we did have one time out in the hallway because he got loud and wouldn't calm down, but it wasn't too bad and it was only once).

Nixon sat on my lap, with his new truck in his hand and accepted pieces of candy from Mac occasionally while getting his haircut. He didn't cry, or squirm (too much), or yell. He sat quietly and played with his truck and watched in the mirror as his hair was cut. He watched it pile up on the smock around him and on the floor at his feet. He was amazing! I'd ask him "You okay Nix?" and he'd reply "yeah I okay".

Then I looked in the mirror.

I saw me and I saw a child that might have been Nixon on my lap, except he looked much older than Nixon. My baby was gone. In his place was a grown child.

Nixon was done. He said "arigato" and gave the woman who cut his hair a tip. She squeezed my arm and said "okay momma?". I said "sure" and smiled. It wasn't until we were walking down the area outside of the barber shop, Mac next to me Nixon happily taking off a little ahead of us, that I felt the tears welling up! He looked too old! Too grown up! Too....not my baby anymore.

Nixon reminded me of someone, with his new short haircut, but I couldn't place it. Not until we got home and I was playing with the pictures I'd taken for this blog. He looks very similar to my nephew Adam, the last time I saw him. Adam was 4.5 when I saw him last and his hair was cut like Nixon's is now. There's a very strong family resemblance between the two, I can see it now. It made me miss Adam (who's with his father out of state, not deceased, just to clear any confusion up), but it also made me see Nixon as a little kid and not just my baby.

And now....... the pictures!!





Mac asked Nixon where his hair was, during a diaper change. Nixon's response?? "Hair gone". That it is, my friend, that it is.