Go, Cooter, Go!

This afternoon I was checking my blog statistics and saw that I was getting a ton of new people hitting this site from Google. One of my lovely visitors got here by searching for "the cooter and the pooter at once". Wow! I was very curious as to what they were looking for, so I did my own search. If you remember, my mother had a fabulous little nickname for Mikayla.

After a little bit of research, I found a variety of meanings for the word cooter. Use your imagination and read this little bit from the Cooter Fest website:

"Cooter" Handler Rules:

1. Once race begins Cooter handlers may not touch their Cooter. Pushing, pulling or rubbing one's Cooter will be grounds for disqualification.

2. No drugged Cooters will be allowed to compete. If the judges suspect a Cooter has been drugged and the Cooter Veterianarian verifies, the parties responsible will be fined, or better yet, sentenced to clean up the Cooter Race Track Area after the race.

3. No foreign substances such as grease or oil can be placed on one's Cooter to increase its speed.

4. Shouting, yelling, and coaxing one's Cooter during the race is encouraged.

5. Cooter handlers are required to provide a safe environment for their Cooters before and after the race.

6. The Cooter Committee will provide a Cooter holding tank for those Cooter handlers unable to return their Cooters to their natural habitat after the race.

7. Cooter handlers found mishandling or mistreating their Cooters will automatically be disqualified.

8. Any violations to the Cooter Race Rules will force the Cooter judges to disqualify the Cooter Handler from the Race Competition.

9. Decisions of Cooter judges are final and there are no appeals.

Hehehehehe! Nice! I think I laughed for about ten minutes after reading that. The mental pictures alone....Wow. That's it. Just...WOW!

And (in case you didn't catch it)...a "cooter" can also mean a gopher turtle. I know, I know...not as funny.

The Demon Makes a Crank Call

"Poppi! Nanny! Peeeeeeseeee!"

This is what Mikayla screamed at me right before pegging me in the head with the phone leaving me with a goose egg. Oh, yeah...that last part was "please".

So, I picked up the phone, dialed the phone number and handed the phone back to her.

Please, said the Demon in Toddler Clothing? Like I had a choice!

For the next ten minutes, Mikayla walked around the house jabbering on the phone.

"Nana. Poppi. Paaahhhhh-pppppiiiiii!" Jibber, jabber, gobble-de-gook, blah, blah, blah...."

"Dee-Deese?" That means Gee-Gee - Mik's great granny.

She brought me the phone with a very confused look on her face. She pointed to the phone, shook her head and said, "No! No!"

"Hello?", I said.

"Hi! She had the wrong number, but it was too cute not to talk to her. She's just precious!"

Yay. Go, me. I dialed the wrong damn phone number.

Another Example of Parents Screwing Up Their Kids

When I lived at home, my Dad had a very specific way he wanted his drinks made and he could tell when they weren't made properly. Six cubes, Pepsi to just below the rim, handle on the right and sip opening on the bottom. Really. I'm not kidding.

"Don't gulp the Pepsi! It makes it flat!"

"I'm not gulping the Pepsi, Dad!"

"Yes, you are. I can see it!"

OR

After taking a small sip, "You gulped."

"I didn't gulp."

"Yes, you did. I can taste it...no bubbles."

Gulping was when the drink didn't pour out of the bottle smoothly. It rather...well...gulped.

To this day the sound of a drink gulping out of a 2 liter makes my skin crawl. It takes every ounce of me (that's a hell of a lot of ounces) not to rip the damn cup out of their hand and throw it across the room. Instead, I puncture a hole in my lip and rip the skin off of my hands.

Mmmm...Tastes Like Chicken!

Mikayla was sitting on Cullen's lap yesterday using her Chubby Crayons to draw on his face. She liked the feel of his scruffies and kept rubbing her hands over his face. She ducked down and licked his chin. She looked up at him and said, "Mmmmmmm!"

Don't Let the Bed Bugs Bite!

Yesterday was a very long day for Mikayla.

I have been having problems with my back for about three weeks now. The doctor believes that it is just a pinched nerve and I'm hoping she's right. I have been ordered by Cullen not to do anything except sit on the couch (please don't tell him that this is what I do all day anyways).

Usually, Mikayla and I run around the house, throw balls, crawl on our hands and knees...stuff like that. Since I wasn't able to do much, Mikayla had to keep herself entertained. We found out when we moved here that if we stomp our feet and tell Mikayla, "I'm gonna get you!", she takes off running down the hallway and into the kitchen, laughing her butt off. I must have said this 100 times yesterday afternoon and she apparently tired herself out.

When it was time for her snack, I cut up an apple and plopped her in her highchair. I flipped on the TV for some background noise and started checking my email. About 5 minutes later I heard Mikayla snoring. I started picking up the apple bits on her tray and wiped her hands and face, without waking her up. She started mumbling (she talks in her sleep like her Daddy) and some apple pieces fell out. So, not wanting her to choke during her nap, I proceeded to try and wake her up to spit out the apple. She would crack her eyes and say random words like, "Kitty," and "Elmo". She refused to wake up enough so that she could comprehend me saying, "Spit. It. Out." My voice got gradually louder and louder. Finally, when the neighbors were wondering if I was killing her, she opened her eyes and said, "Mama!". How dare I wake her up! She spit out the apple and pointed to the stairs, "Ni-Ni." (sounds like hi, but with an "n") which means Night Night. Holy Jeez! My kid just asked for me to put. her. in. her. bed! Red Letter Day! I walked upstairs and placed her in her bed. She immediately rolled over on her belly and hugged Elmo tight. She turned to me, waved and said, "Bye!"

In that one second I was so very happy, yet, so very sad. Happy because it was great that for the first time, she was able to communicate to me that she wanted to goto bed. Sad because my little girl is growing up and is showing such independence. Before I blink, she'll be driving and graduating and having her own brats.

Again With the Craziness!

I turned the page to the alarm manual and I just had to share it with you.

Currently, our car is set to be actively set, meaning, we push the button and it beeps. If we choose to set the passive arming device, we have to follow these procedures:

1. Before you begin, open the driver's door. Close the remaining doors and the trunk or hatch. Unlock all doors with the inside lock switch. Remove the key from the ignition switch.

2. Insert and remove the key from the ignition key cylinder 3 times.

All of this must be completed within 5 seconds and the remaining steps have to be completed within 40 seconds.

3. Close the driver's door.

4. Lock and unlock all doors 3 times by key or remote control (this requires you to push your remote control lock button once and the unlock button twice to unlock all doors - this 8 freaking button pushes!).

5. Open and close the driver's door.

6. Lock, then unlock the driver's door inside lock button 3 times.

7. Open the driver's door.

8. The system locks the door in 2 seconds. If this does not happen, start over.

9. Unlock the driver's door knob.

10. Close and open the driver's door 3 times for a 0 second arming delay, 4 times for 15 seconds or 5 times for 30 seconds.

11. Lock then unlock the driver's door inside lock button 1 time.

12. The system locks the door in 2 seconds. If this does not happen, start over.

Programming is now complete.

Oh. My. God. I swear, I copied this procedure in its entirety, directly as it appeared in the manual. Can you imagine?! I told Cullen that when we do this, we need to make sure we video tape it. You know? For YOUR enjoyment!

Tell 'Em What They Won! A New Car!

Okay...so maybe we didn't win it, but we finally got our new car two weeks ago! Yay for us! It's a 2007 Toyota Camry SE and I love it! I'm really diggin' the fact that I am no longer only developing my left calf muscle. You know? From the clutch up these freaking mountains? Now...I'm developing NO calf muscles! Wait...maybe that's not such a good thing...

Anyways, the new car has a remote engine start. Something that I thought would be really nifty. We've tested it out a few times and I have decided that I hate the damn thing. It's really simple to turn on, you just have to press the LOCK button twice within two seconds and then hold down the LOCK button on the key for 3 seconds and then it just starts right up. However, if there is any attempt to get inside the car, the stupid thing turns off. Now, I understand what they were trying to accomplish...the whole "we don't want people to steal your car" thing. As I was reading through the manual, this was mentioned several times and the dealership was very proud of this "anti-theft" feature.

What I want to know, then, is why in the hell does the damn car turn off when you put the freaking key in the damn lock or push the UNLOCK button on the key?!!! Obviously, if a thief has your effing key, that feature doesn't really help a whole lot now does it?!

I guess we will basically only use it in the cold winter (we have those in Washington - say goodbye to 85 degree Christmases). We can set it to turn on the defroster and the heater. I guess that's one good thing about it...the only good thing about it.

Embarrassing Nicknames

When my aunt was pregnant with my now 16-year old cousin, I remember them being torn on what to name their baby girl. The first choice was Elizabeth and their second choice was Shelby. My aunt and uncle were afraid that if they named her Elizabeth, classmates would call her "Lizzie the Lezzie with a Woodcock", becase Woodcock was their last name. I bet Shelby is very happy that she wasn't named Elizabeth.

My aunt and uncle basically gave me my first lesson on how to name your child. When we chose the name Mikayla (because it is the feminine form of Michael - my father) we went through the possibilities of embarrassing nicknames. Thankfully, we weren't able to find many, and the ones we did think of weren't really that bad.

When I was pregnant with her, I called her my womb-mate. When Mikayla was teeny-tiny we had lists of nicknames that we called her: Mik, Mik-a-Nik, Mikelodeon, Kayla, Mickey, Mik Mik, Monkey Toes, Monkey. For the most part, these were pretty cute nicknames, nothing that would cause harm.

Leave it to Nana, though, to cause emotional scarring by calling her...drum roll, please..."Cooter Pooter"! We think, and she says, that she really meant to say "Scooter Pooter" all those times. Just think about that one: Cooter. Pooter. Poor kid.