That stinks!

We’ve known about Vincenzo’s aversion to wiping, flushing, and washing his hands when he drops a deuce for quite some time now.  We weren’t inclined to do anything about it until Christmas Eve when, shortly after this picture was taken…


…it was time to put pants on and go to church.  Unfortunately, Vincenzo’s two pairs of jeans were in the laundry, reeking of three-day-old skid marks.  It was either wear a scrubby pair of sweat pants to Christmas Eve service or wear the poopy pants and as the bible mentions a lot about what God sees but virtually nothing about what God smells, I opted for the stinky jeans.  (This is why there is a series of books called “Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants” but there should never, ever be a “Brotherhood of the Traveling Pants.”)

It’s unfortunate that the church was as packed as it was.  It was like we were a can of sardines, and some jerk sardine had farted in the can.  Every time V stood or sat during the service we were all reminded of what the stable where Jesus was born truly smelled like.  The guy next to me kept checking the bottoms of his shoes, presumably for dog poop.  I kept pointing to the kid in front of us and holding my nose.

So this week I made Vincenzo a long overdue chart.  I’m sure you all have similar types of chore charts where your kid does something good and then gets a reward.


Now, Vincenzo gets a chocolate chip at the end of each day that he wipes, flushes, and washes.  And the rest of us get peace of mind that the brown smudges on his fingers are chocolate rather than fecal matter.


Lasagna (that I never made last week)
Peas with roasted onion and mint
Peppermint chocolate ice cream cake

I’ll have nothing to blog about after Christmas.

But until then, you can enjoy our family’s merry Christmas anecdotes.

1. Despite Vincenzo’s iffy belief in Santa this year, we happened upon one at a mall and there was no line so we walked on up to him.  It went downhill from there.

Santa: Is there anything special you’d like for Christmas?
Vincenzo: I’d like an ordament. 
Santa: An ornament?
Vincenzo: Yes.  I want you to hide an ordament on the tree on Christmas morning.
Santa, gesturing to a store across from him:  Ho ho ho, and there are so many nice ornaments right in this store here called Hallmark.  You could go over there and buy one for yourself right after you talk with me!

‘Tis the season to be commercial.

2.  Every year when I go to put lights on the tree I somehow get electrocuted by the Christmas lights.  Kevin doesn’t believe me.  Every year this happens, every year there is cursing and hopping around holding my wounded hand, every year there is Kevin touching the same broken light that zapped me and saying, “See?  Nothing.”  Well this year I actually got an electrical burn to prove it.


Do you see it?  Just WNW of the freckle?

Yeah.  Kevin doesn’t see it either.  But it’s there.  I just hope that next year I remember all the electrical burns of Christmases past and put on my rubber kitchen gloves before getting electrocuted instead of after.

3.  Sorry we missed your call…


4.  Just before leaving for the Christmas Eve service, I asked Vincenzo to put on some shoes.


I’m not sure which problem I should address first…the red heels or the lack of pants.  But, as the mathematicians know, two negatives make a great blog post.


Going out

The Nativity in the Eyes of a Child

Over the past couple weeks Vincenzo has delighted in arranging and rearranging the Christmas nativity scene…while I myself have delighted in taking pictures of the various arrangements and adding commentary.  Merry Christmas early, everyone.






Dungeness crab risotto
Roasted red pepper and tomato soup (from a box)
Something vegetabley
Santa Claus cookies

3 Things You Should Know

1.  My husband, I may have mentioned, has a serious wooting problem.  I’m sure you’ve all been to the woot website—I’m sure you all go there several times a day, as my husband does—but I’m also sure you have better taste and judgment than my husband and you resist that urge to “Want One!”  Last Christmas I gave him a certificate to woot one thing over the course of the year.  He wooted three gigantic, blow-up airplanes, three flying helicopter thingies, two knives, one computer, and a half dozen shirts with sayings that are only funny the first time you read them.  He couldn’t help it.  He has a chronic case of Wootitis.

2.  Vincenzo’s nickname is D (he named himself D when he was 18 months old and it’s just kind of stuck).

3.  Today, Kevin sent me this poem.

We dwell on the past, while living the present
But I admit, the past was unpleasant
Full of ups and downs, less pleasure more pain
We wished for the sun, but only got rain
We both made mistakes, put pain in our hearts
But here we are again, promising to never part
Counting our blessings and letting go of the past
Starting all over and making it last
I may have just wooted for D
I hope you can forgive me
Feelings and memories flow deep in my mind
Of those days our love was genuine and kind
Holding you close, feeling your skin
You look into my eyes and make my head spin
Those feelings are back, but stronger than ever
I know you’re the one I wanna hold on to forever
We both smile again, nothing’s better than this
Kissing you again was like our second first kiss.

– Giselle Simental –

So Kevin, if you’re reading this, I have a little poem for you.

Roses are red
Violets are blue
If you woot one more time
I will divorce you

Crab stuffed potatoes
Hopefully some other things that magically appear

Christmas Card, MrsMouthy Style

Christmas card time!  For those who didn’t pay your MrsMouthy taxes and receive a hard copy in the mail, here’s the soft copy version.


And the letter:

I knew it was going to be hard to get a smiling Christmas picture with a baby and a preschooler so I decided to get a picture of all of us with binkies in our mouths and then make some reference to the song “Silent Night.”  Of course, for the first time in his LIFE, Rocco decided not to put something in his mouth.  It just goes to show that with kids, nothing is ever quite like you expect it will be.

Take Vincenzo, for example.  We started 2010 with a four-year-old boy who thought he was a turtle.  We are ending it with a five-year-old owl with zombie tendencies.  If I go out for a run, I never know whether I am going to come home to a boy with large, blinky eyes saying, “Hoot hoot,” or a staggering, vacant-eyed boy saying, “Bwains…bwains…”  It’s really quite unsettling.

And then there’s Rocco.  The question people asked most often a year ago was, “Is your baby always this calm?”  Now people are more likely to ask if he’s always this crazy.  Rocco is obsessed with cars.  I get him out of bed in the morning and he looks at me and says, “CAR!  CAR!” to indicate he’d like some milk.  Later I put him in his high chair and give him some noodles.  His face lights up and he yells, “CAR!”  Kevin walks into the kitchen and Rocco points at him and yells, “CAR!”  We play with toy cars so much throughout the day my lips are calloused from saying, “Vvvvvvvvvv.”

Other surprises from the year include hearing a scuffing noise at dinner and turning to see Rocco crawling around the kitchen using sticks of Crisco for ice skates.  There was also the time we drove to a friend’s house for dinner and unbuckled Vincenzo from his car seat only to discover he wasn’t wearing any pants.  Thank goodness for underwear.

Kevin and I haven’t changed quite so much over the year.  I still spend too much time thinking about what color to paint a room then changing my mind; Kevin still spends too much time painting various rooms in the house then repainting them when I change my mind.  But whether we go with “malted muesli” or “sullen mist,” we both appreciate that our friends and family are here to tell us it looks great.  Or not.  That’s why we love you so much. 

Have a very merry Christmas, everyone!

And the outtakes: (Rocco would put his regular binky in his mouth but not the funkier ones I had bought for the pictures.)




Plain pasta—stomach still isn’t too sure about food

Another barfy blog post

Ahhh!  What is going on?  First I got the Thanksgiving cold, then the early December flu, next the mid-December mastitis, and now I don’t know what I have but I woke up in the middle of the night and started puking, out of the blue.  Three times!  Kevin thinks it’s from my antibiotics.  My sister wants to buy me a pregnancy test.*  And I, of course, think it’s cancer.

Kevin took the day off of work and now spends his time responding to my gastrointestinal needs, Rocco’s crying, Vincenzo’s demanding imagination.  He keeps bringing me glasses of Kefir, which is a great way to tell someone you really, really hate them.  I keep dumping it in the cat’s bowl.  The cat, who drinks out of the toilet and eats his own fur clots, wants nothing to do with Kefir.

Anyway.   I took these pictures of Rocco and it didn’t even occur to me that yet another of my sons was shirtless during our tree decorating extravaganza.






I think he pulled it off though.


*Don’t get all worked up.  The whole cold/flu/mastitis thing has kind of wiped out most forms of intimacy.  (I still let him rub my feet, but I don’t think that’s how you get pregnant.)