You Know It’s Bad…

…when you resort to singing “Soft Kitty” to your child at bedtime because although you love it, you can only sing the Razorback Fight Song so many times in a row.

…when your child is so picky about the songs you sing, that regular things are unacceptable, yet “Soft Kitty” is asked for repeatedly.

…when your repertoire of lullaby songs is dwindling so much that you actually consider singing “Pants On the Ground.”

**PACI UPDATE**

Yesterday morning, Caedmon and I were playing in his room and found his broken bah in his bed. (It had been left in there when he got up.) He (again) told me it was broken, and I took the opportunity to talk about how when things are broken and we can’t fix them, we throw them in the trash. I asked him if he wanted to throw his paci in the trash. “Uh-huh, otay,” was the response and he ran off to put it in the kitchen trash can.

At naptime, he asked for his bah and we talked about how he had been a big boy and thrown it away because it was broken. I handed him Curious George and put him down…and heard not a peep from him.

At bedtime, he asked for his bah again, and I reminded him what we had done that morning. He was ok with it, and as I was laying him in the bed, he said, “I a big boy.”

Yes he is.

You Know It’s Bad…

…when your Husband reads a Curious George book to your 2 year-old as Brian Fellow, and he likes it.

You Know It’s Bad…

…when your 2-year-old boy throws a fit because he got jelly on his shorts.

…when you wipe the jelly off, leaving of course, a damp spot and jelly stain, he is upset because his pants are damp.

…when you tell him it will dry soon and all will be ok, all he can do is cry and say, “Dry! Dry!”

…when you finally give in and take the jelly-stained shorts off your child, thus ending the crisis and realizing that indeed, the apple does not fall far from the tree.

**I promise there are more stories and pictures from our vacation coming. But as I have just a tiny shred of my sanity right now due to lack of sleep and approximately 79 loads of laundry this week, it will probably be next week before I can actually get myself together enough to make something cohesive. How’s that for a run-on sentence? See? Tiny shred.

You Know It’s Bad…

…when your child, instead of eating his fruit snacks from a bowl, prefers to eat them out of the dog’s Kong.

…that while you wonder how much old, crusty, doggie-slobbered-upon peanut butter he got with those fruit snacks, you’re not really worried about it.

…when you have to constantly remind your child that the dog’s Nylabones are only for the dog to chew on, even if they do taste like chicken.

…when you consider just buying the boy his own Nylabone so the dog will actually get to chew on his own toy.

You Know It's Bad...

...when your son has had breakfast, second breakfast, licked the beaters from a cake, half a pint of strawberries, and he STILL tries to steal and eat the biscuit the gas meter guy gave to the dog.

You Know It’s Bad…

…when your son decides one of his favorite toys is a baby doll.

…when “Baby Feels So Real” is so heavy, your kid struggles to lug it around the house.

…when the baby is wearing your son’s clothes. That don’t fit. At all.

…when the boy wants to show off his “Bebe.”…when Daddy breaks out some of his prized Star Wars Action Figures (which were, until now, sealed in their original packaging) and the boy doesn’t want anything to do with them.

…when Momma buys the doll new clothes. And they still don’t fit.

On the upside, the boy really does love his “Bebe.” He makes sure that baby gets to watch Curious George. He’s actually pretty gentle with it. And he’s not once left it outside or in the dog crate, which is more than I can say for most of his other toys.

You Know It's Bad...

You know it's bad when during the middle of Tropical Storm/Depression/Flailing Wind and Rain Ike, the dog wakes you up at 3:30am to go out.

Not because he needs you to let him out (doggie door), but because he wants YOU to stop the rain.

Either I've become god-like to him or he's that much of a sissy. Neither of which is probably a good thing.

You Know It's Bad...

You know it's bad when someone who doesn't even use the potty still finds the need to use excessive amounts of toilet paper. I think I know where he gets it.

You Know It's Bad...

You know it's bad when your faux-hawk adds 10% to your height. Definitely time for a haircut.

You Know It's Bad...

You know it's bad when the coolest thing in your electronically overclocked house is a 99 cent springy door stop. And no, he didn't eat the white thingy on the end. I took it off. I'm not a completely horrible mother.

You Know It's Bad...

You know it's bad when your kid wants to chew on the arm rest of your office chair instead of his teething toys. And you let him.

You Know It's Bad...

You know it's bad when you catch your kid with the dog's Nylabone and discover he'd really rather chew on that than any of the 73 "baby" toys he owns.

You Know It's Bad...

You know it's bad when your child's dinner finds itself on the bottom of his foot hours after he's eaten. I guess that's what happens when you suck on your toes.

You Know It's Bad...

You know it's bad when because of the aforementioned new tooth, Chickster is chewing on a frozen teething ring and you turn around to catch the dog also licking the icy toy and wonder if it's the first time or the 73rd.