Whew!

What a weekend! Our good friend Justin came to visit, and we packed our weekend schedule as full as we could. He was a good sport, and was pretty convincing when he told us he had a great time. Our weekend consisted of:

1. Taking in a Suns Game. Mike left the camera in the car, but we were lucky enough to have our picture taken and posted on the Suns Fan website. Woohoo! Miles even dressed in the Suns Grey and Orange colors, and did GREAT at the game. He loved the noises, the people, and watching the players. The Suns won the game, and scored 140 points for the third time in a row.

2. Went to the zoo for an afternoon.

3. Woke up at 4:30 in the a.m to show our support for Mike who competed in a Dualathlon. This was the main reason Justin came to visit, and I was glad he was there. Waiting around for a couple hours for Mike to cross the finish line would have been pretty boring with only a teething toddler to talk to. And he didn't complain when Mike wanted to stick around an extra couple hours after the race for the raffle. But Mike did end up winning a couple pairs of socks...so it was totally worth it. (More info and pics coming soon. This event definitely deserves its own post.)

4. Checked out the new Cardinals Stadium, and the surrounding shopping area.

5. And spontaneously attended the PBR. (PBR = Professional Bull Riders, for you non-Wyomingites not into all things rodeo. Justin was surprised when I mentioned how much I love the PBR. Apparrently, PBR is also the name of cheap beer..Pap's Blue Ribbon. No wonder he was confused. :)

6. And finally, he and Mike went on a long mountain biking ride. (I am not ashamed to say I stayed home and took a nap.)

Thanks Justin for visiting us! It was so nice of you to come, and I know Mike was glad to have you here for his Dualathlon debut.

Why parents should check their kid's homework!

Detox Day 2

The binkie detox is going...um, well....let's just say it's going.

Several months ago Mike was in Tucson doing an away rotation. We were down to one binkie, and I decided once that last binkie was lost, Miles wouldn't be getting any more. We were finito. He lost the last binks the very next day, and that was that.

The whole week I struggled getting him down for naps. And cried every night when he cried for that darn pacifier.

But after a couple days, it was as if the binkie never existed.

HEAVEN ON EARTH!!

And then Daddy came home, and we were so excited to see him! And the first thing he did....

Find some lost and misplaced binkie and plop it right into my son's mouth.

Yeah....I know. I didn't have the heart to start over. So the next time I was at the store, I bought 2 more packs of those dreaded green things.

And when last week Mike decided enough was enough, I CONVENIENTLY chose this weekend to begin Round 2 of the binkie detox.

Why, you ask???

Simple. I'm working. All weekend. Graveyard shifts. Friday, Saturday, and Sunday night, you can count me out of the bed time routine.

Though I was home for the dreaded first night, the night Miles woke-up almost every hour screaming for his beloved binks. The night I sat up with him on the couch from 2:00 am until 4:30 am, while he sobbed on my shoulder, I have missed the rest.

Dad reports last night went well. I think Mike's strategy is to completely wear Miles out, so he just crashes at bed time. The little guy didn't hit the hay until after 9:00 last night.

But he slept.

Keep your fingers crossed that by the time Monday night rolls around, he'll be the sleeping angel he used to be!

"This is going to hurt me more than its going to hurt you"

Growing up, my brothers, sister and I were (for the most part) pretty good kids. We were seldom disciplined (harshly) because there was no need.

Except for the time Rachel and Ben and Adam dripped lines of gasoline in the garage. Then lit matches to see whose line would burn the fastest.

Or the time Ben and Adam burned their spelling books (again) in the garage.

Or the time I was lighting matches in my Grandma Barnard's camping trailer.

Apparrently we are a family of pyromaniacs. And enjoyed incinerating almost anything in our oversized garage.

In THESE instances, discipline was swift. One good SWAT on the rear.

I'll admit, my swat was just a WARNING swat. A cautionary action letting me know what I was doing was infact wrong, and should I continue in my unacceptable behavior, the next spank would be REAL.

And I'll admit, The embarrassment I felt from my dad seeing my bare hind end was more than enough to curb my behavior.

I remember, on occassion, watching a movie where a little boy would commit some kind of crime, punishable by paddling. Dad would march his son up the stairs to his room and inevitabley say to him:

"This is going to hurt me more than it will hurt you."

As a child, this statement dumbfounded me. It couldn't POSSIBLY be true. At least not true in the sense that my little child mind could comprehend.

But I'm no longer a child. And I HAVE a child of my VERY OWN. Now, I couldn't understand more.

We have begun the official and very much dreaded, BINKIE DETOX program at our house. My son's one and only truly loved posession. We just took them all away. All of them. Cold Turkey. AND....I have spent the last hour listening to my poor little guy cry and cry and cry. Because how is he suppossed to sleep without his binks?

The weeping and whaling and nashing of new little teeth has calmed down to a heart breaking, literally brings tears to my eyes, sad little wimper.

SOMEBODY.....MAKE IT STOP!!!

I know, Miles misses that binks of his. I know he doesn't understand why its gone. I know he really is upset that he has to fall asleep without it.

But OHHHHHHHH...how it's killing me!

And I thought of that statement dads make to their derelict sons right before their paddles hit their bottoms.

And now, I know it's true.

P.S. Wish Me Luck!