Happy New Year!



Play a Kazoo, Happy New Years to You!

I just wanted to take a few moments away from my swinging New Years party that I am hosting to wish you all a very Happy and Healthy New Year.  I hope that 2012 brings all of you happiness and other nice things like Ipads, nice cars, found winning lottery tickets, fine cheeses, aged beef (not with the previous item, I am a kosher baby), nice weather, no delays when flying, only moderate traffic, and last but certainly not least, that your favorite TV show does not get cancelled. 


Liana LOVES NEW YEAR! 
(see the gap in her teeth?)

Next year, expect more Asher a Day on a variety of topics.  I will talk about my resolutions (there are many), my favorite things (there are many), and my favorite people (there are many).  Thank you all for making 2011 great and I am looking to spend 2012 with you all. 

Be safe tonight.  And if you can not be safe, please be careful!

Asher Out!

Gillian = Iron Chef

As Jews, food is very important to us.  This is currently a season where it is very acceptable to fry anything and call it a holiday tradition.  I am enjoying Hanukah.  We have had latkes two out of three days so far and there will me more in the future.  This is a great season.  Food part is going swimmingly I would have to say.

The gift part is not so much.  I think my mom must think I am a dummy.  Liana and Gillian have been getting night gowns, cool blanket characters, Littlest Pet Shop, and thumb print art and ink pad.  They are loving Chanuka.  Ask me what I got, I dare you.  My haul equals an activity book that is not age appropriate, a blanket that I had already gotten when I was younger, and two books taken from the bag of out-of-circulation books in my room (one about learning to pee).  My mom must think I do not realize this, but I do.  I act excited because you want me to be.  I would enjoy a new car though.  Does not neet to be fancy, but I would enjoy heated seats.  Apparently if you play a certain tune, a gift-wrapped Lexus appears in your driveway.  Dad, play that funky music!

Back to food.  Gillian's preschool class made a cookbook.  "We are good cookers!" The Lizard's told their teachers how to make their favorite foods.  This is Gillian's:

Brownies by Gillian
Ingredients:  Chocolate in a box, 2 eggs, 3 butters, 1 cup of milk.
Directions:  Crack the eggs in a bowl.  Pour in the milk.  Put the chocolate in the milk and melt it.  Put it in a bowl and stir it wth a big spoon.  Scoop it into a pan.  Put it in the oven - make it kind of hot.  Cook it for 12 hours.  Use mitts to get it out.  Cool them and cut them.  Then you eat them.  They taste good!

MMMMMMMMMMM.  Burnties!  Here are two of our other favorites. 

Turkey
Ingredients: 2 eggs, a little bit of yogurt, some bones, turkey
Directions: Mix it all and put it in the oven.  The oven should be a little hot, not hot-hot.  Use gloves, like my mom has, or outside gloves, to get it out.  You have to cut it with a sharp knife.  Put it on a plate with honey mustard and ketsup and then you eat it. 

Chocolate Chip Cookies
Ingredients:  1 cup sugar, 5 cups pudding, 2 eggs, 3 cups milk, 7 chocolate chips
Directions:  Mix all the things together in a bowl with a spoon.  If you put it in a blender it will all pop out.  Scoop it with a spoon and put all the big dots on a pan.  Put it in the oven at 40 degrees for 40 hours.  Take them out - use big gloves.  Blow on them then eat them.

I hope you are all having a great holiday season and not letting your four year olds do the seasoning.  I love word play!

My Sisters are Famous Artists (aka, "We Love You, Parry Gripp!")

In the past I've written about my family's love for the musical genius of Parry Gripp (you can see the posts here and here). I mean, for those of you who know us well, you know that "Space Unicorn" is basically our family's theme song and the girls will often break out their "marshmallow lasers." You can also ask Gillian how a space unicorn says "Shabbat Shalom." Well, the love has reached a new level. My parents finally got it together enough to help the girls enter one of Parry Gripp's drawing requests, and the girls not only drew pictures of "Slushy the Slushball," but they made it into the video. I have to warn you that "Slushy" is a Christmas song, but it's about a slushball. And how can you not love a slushball? Check out the video below. Gillian's drawing is at 0:45 and Liana's is at 0:52.

In case this is is your first exposure to Parry Gripp, be prepared to be astounded and amazed. If you decide you love him and want more, here are some recommendations:

I love "Fuzzy Fuzzy Cute Cute" (I like to pretend to fall asleep at the end like the bunny), "Boogie Boogie Hedgehog," "Nom nom nom nom nom nom nom" (there's a car in it), and "Hamster Yawning in Your Face" (I also like yawning in your face).

Gillian's favorite is "Robot Dog is Coming Home," much to Liana's dismay. Liana can't stand Robot Dog, but Gillian loves it because there's a picture of Robot Dog marrying Space Unicorn.

Mom is partial to "Chicken Tender," despite the misspelling at the beginning. Say "hinky dinky do!"

Dad likes "Overweight Hedgehog."

This is just to get you started. Every song is amazing. I hope that I have enlightened you.

Suckas Gotts to Know!

This is a shout out to my Dad's best friend John wishing him a very happy birthday.  John has been like an uncle to me since I was a tiny tiny tot.  He visited me in the hospital, helped my Dad on Sundays when Mom worked by hanging out, and is around at all our birthdays.  He is part of the family and a really great guy.  I know Dad gives him a hard time about some of his obsessions, but they are what gives him character. 

So, on behalf of the the whole Asher A Day Staff, Happy Birthday John!  In honor of your birthday, I post images of some of your favorite things.  This will increase my random hits and also will also act as a birthday surprise.

The Smashing Pumpkins:

This is is John's favorite band.  Why does that guy in the front look like an incomplete extra from American Horror Story?  And why is he not wearing the giant hoop skirts everyone else is wearing?  And why is the guy in the back so far away from the others? And why does the guy in front look like Batboy?  So many questions, so little time.

The Smashing Pumpkins:

This photo was unwrapped.

The Saint Louis Cardinals:

This one does not make sense to me.  How can watching this guy play baseball be fun? 

The Blues:

 

 He looks surprised to have made this list.

Any team that plays against a team from Kansas or Kansas City:

John will root for his favorite teams and then any team that plays against a team from Kansas or Kansas City.  He will not eat Kansas City bar-b-q.  He is committed.



John Likes US History.



John also likes Hacksaw Jim Duggan.

Happy Birthday John from all of us!

Give Me Some Corndogs!

I guess my mom felt like being unhealthy tonight, so she gave in to Dad's suggestion to make corn dogs, which was brought on by Gillian's insistence on having baked beans. (The corn dogs were kosher hot dogs, homemade non-dairy cornbread batter, baked in mini-muffin tins, so not as unhealthy as they could have been.) Dude, this was the best meal ever. The girls ate a couple of the mini cornbread muffins that didn't have hot dogs in them, Gillian ate a couple bites of plain hot dogs and a few beans, Liana ate one very dramatic bite from a hot dog, but I was the king. I ate three whole mini-muffin corndogs, plus the leftover hot dog from Liana. Why has this meal not happened in our house before? I'm tired of all the tvp, tofu and other meat substitutes, not to mention the pasta and quesadillas (which seem to be the only things the girls will consistently eat). Give me my meat! I'm a growing boy.

I want meat!

Mom: Hero or Klutz?

When we picked Gillian up from school today, the first thing she said was, "Mom, did you throw Asher down the stairs at baby school today?"

So here's that story:

Last Tuesday Mom and I were at baby school and it was time to go downstairs to the big room for gross motor play. You know, lots of big balls to throw and kick around, scooters to surf on, trampolines to dance on--general awesomeness. Normally I walk down the stairs, but Mom was carrying me because I had been insisting on "booping" down the stairs on my butt and was taking too long. I was only taking too long because I wanted her to boop with me, but she wasn't playing along.

Anyway, halfway down the stairs, Mom lost her footing (maybe due to me being squirmy, but that's not an important detail), and slid down a couple steps. In the process of trying to grab the handrail and not throw me down the stairs, her foot folded under her and crunched. I'm pretty sure at that point Mom knew something was wrong, but she didn't want me to miss my play time, so we went to the big room and threw around balls, all the while with her foot swelling up in her shoe.

Now there are not a lot of things that keep Mom down, but when we got home that day she sat down on the couch with an icepack and pretty much didn't move the rest of the day. The next day Dad didn't go to work and we had another adventure at the hospital where I got to spread my awesomeness around even more and then have a huge tantrum in the middle of the hallway. (I wanted to throw my Cheerios on the ground and then eat them like a dog, but Dad wouldn't let me, and there was only one x-ray tech working so it was taking forever.)

Never fear, Mom's foot was not broken, but a week later she still isn't moving much, so we'll see how that one turns out. Take away from the story? Mom saved me from being thrown down the stairs even though she was the one who almost did the throwing.

All About Hanukah

My big sister Liana is in kindergarten and is somehow the only Jewish person in her class. Mom doesn't quite understand this because she grew up in this school district and there were a ton of Jewish kids. Anyway, Liana has been feeling nervous about being the only Jewish person, but she recently discovered that her teacher's husband is Jewish, so her teacher celebrates Christmas and Hanukah. So, Liana decided she wanted to teach her class all about Hanukah, and she wrote a book to share with her class. Here it is. (Sorry my mom did a bad job with the scanning--I will translate. You can click on the images to see the full size.)

All About Hanukah

We light the menorah for eight nights. We eat latkes and jelly doughnuts.

 

We play dreidel. We give presents.

We tell the story of the Maccabees. A great miracle happened because the oil lasted for eight days instead of one.

We eat chocolate gelt. We have parties.

We give tzedakah. We like Hanukah. "Yay." "Yay."

Another Photo Shoot Gone Wrong

Just look at this series of photos. No explanation necessary. (You should be able to click on them to see the full versions.)

The Daddy on the Bus Says...what?

I go to what my sisters call "baby school" once a week with my mom. It's pretty awesome. I get to hang out with a bunch of other dudes my age. We parallel play with cars, steal the grocery cart from each other, throw balls, and make big huge messy art projects our moms would never allow at home. We also have music class as part of the morning. I'm not as interested in music class as you might think--I would rather stay in the classroom with the huge bucket of cars. There are a couple xylophones that have wheels on them though, so that usually keeps me occupied.

My beef today is with the lyrics to a song we usually sing: "The Wheels on the Bus." You all know the song, so I don't have to explain it to you. So, the mommies on the bus say "I love you." Fine, that's accurate. Then, the grandmas on the bus (we have a lot of grandmas who come to baby school) say, "I love you more." I can handle that too. Then we get to the daddies, and what do they say? "Way to go." What? Why can't the daddies say some version of "I love you" also? My daddy says "I love you" all the time. Maybe whenever the song was first invented (or when our music teacher was little), daddies were too macho to say "I love you," but I don't think that's the case anymore.  I wonder if we would say that if a daddy was actually at school with us? Hmmm...I might have to see if I can experiment.

Don't box me in!

They're After Me

People are searching for me. Through Google, that is. I like to check the stats for my blog every day so I can keep track of how many people are being enlightened by my musings. My favorite part of the statistics is the "search keywords," which tells me how people found my site. While most of my readers are my parents' friends and family, I do occasionally get the random stranger. And those strangers are searching for some interesting things.

The most popular search that brings me traffic is "care bears" or some version of those two words. That search brings up this post. (All these links will open in new windows, so don't worry about losing your place!)

The second most popular is "8 point star filter" or "cross star filter," which is a kind of filter that you can put on a camera. That search brings up this post, containing a photo taken with the star filter.

Then we have "liana dresses." Apparently someone with the last name of Liana designs wedding dresses. But, if you go to Google Images and do that search, among all the models in their wedding dresses, you will see an adorable picture of Gillian in a ridiculous dress our parents found at a thrift store. Check it out here.

And that brings us to the strange ones. Like "ashy person." Try it in Google Images. See my awesome photo from this post.

Last, but not least, my favorite..."wedgie life jacket." When I first saw that, I thought it might have brought up this photo,

but I don't know if I ever used that photo on the blog. Instead it brings up this post.


Google Images is freaky. So are the people searching for wedgie life jackets. But I like that people are reading my blog!

Christmahanakwanzika is all ___________________.

Blessed Christmahanakwanzika everybody!  Maybe. Your pint sized purveyor of everything awesome has some complaints.  I was looking at my parents' Facebook pages and I saw some people posting this diatribe about "Putting Christ back in Christmas" and "Down with Happy Holidays."  Here is an example:

"I'm inviting all my Facebook family and friends to join me in returning to the traditional greeting of "MERRY CHRISTMAS" instead of the politically correct "happy holidays". If you agree with me, please re-post this message. Merry Christmas!"

Here is another one:

Now, I might just be a baby, but what is wrong with "Happy Holidays?"  I understand it is PC, and that PC has its own concerns, but what is wrong with it?  Am I a "bleeding heart liberal" if I say "Happy Holidays?"  Am I a "so called do-gooder?"

Why can we not treat people nicely and acknowledge that what makes us different is what makes us special?  When I say "Happy Holidays" to my friends at baby school, I do it to acknowledge all their special days.  I want to wish people a festive season.

And attacking Christmas?  This whole country is built around Christmas.  It's a national holiday. You don't have to worry about using up vacation days at work or missing school to celebrate.  My dad worked from 11pm on Thanksgiving Night to 4pm the next day.  Why?  Because people needed to start shopping at midnight.  While I type this, every other commercial on TV has mentioned Christmas.  So, which holidays need protecting my friends?  (Don't even get me started on the out-of-control materialism of the whole season.)

To me, "Happy Holidays" is simply acknowledging the fact that there are many holidays celebrated during this season. I don't necessarily know what you celebrate (if you celebrate anything at all) and I'm just trying to be nice and cheerful. I'm not trying to take anything away from anyone and not trying to proclaim that one holiday is more important than another. If I know what you celebrate, I will be happy to wish you a "Merry Christmas," but the fact of the matter is that we don't know a lot of the people we greet in the course of a day (at stores, restaurants, etc.). When you say that "Happy Holidays" is offensive and we need to go back to wishing everyone a "Merry Christmas," you are excluding me and a lot of other people in the world, and that's just ridiculous.

I Want to Be a Dog

This has been coming for a long time. I have always been a big fan of my Aunt Louie's dog Casey. "Woof" was one of the first consistent sounds I made. I have a beautiful, soft head of hair. I'm fast on my hands and knees. I do not like wearing pants so I can easily pee and poop on the floor.  I often drool all over the place. I am super cute. There really is no denying it: I was meant to be a dog.

I still don't have quite the vocabulary to express it to my parents verbally, so I've been giving them plenty of cues. Whenever we are with Casey, I make sure to drink out of her bowl. I also like to play with her toys. When we are not with Casey, I simply dump whatever food I am given on the floor and then eat it there. Bowl of Frosted Mini Wheats (no milk--Mom has picked up on my patterns)? Dump it on the floor. Mac and cheese? Dump it on the floor. Granola bar? Crumble it up and dump it on the floor. I tried dumping some water on the floor today also, but that didn't work out as well.

It's just the way I roll. I'd rather get down on my hands and knees and eat with my butt up in the air. I want to be a dog. They are drooly, lazy, and awesome.

Throw a stick for me!  Woof.

Let the Wild Rumpus Start

Everyone was off school today, and since it was Wednesday, that meant we all got to go to story time at the library. The theme of this week's story time was "Where the Wild Things Are." So, of course we read that book, as well as other books about monsters, and we sang monster songs, danced monster dances, and made monster masks. I also had my monster truck with me (but that was just a coincidence since I bring it most places) until the librarian yelled at me for vrooming and not sitting and then Mom had to take the truck away. (But, really, librarian? You yell at a 21-month-old for not being able to sit through two long and not age-appropriate for me stories? There were plenty of other younger kids there who weren't sitting perfectly still.)

Anyway, the culmination of the morning was The Wild Rumpus. And did we have said Rumpus in the story time room far away from the main part of the library? Oh no. We lined up, all 30-40 of us in our monster masks and our parents, and paraded through the whole library, growling and rumpus-ing the whole way. I'm sure that's exactly what the other library patrons had in mind when they decided to go spend a nice quiet morning at the library.

If You Don't Like It...

Today was one of Dad's Best Buy nights, which means Mom is left on her own against us from about 7 am to 11 pm. Most days she does a good job defending herself from me and my sisters, but this afternoon we were especially crabby. We're coming off the weekend, which included an early Thanksgiving celebration with the extended family and Liana's birthday (party on Saturday, plus party at school and going out to dinner on Monday). We're all overtired and almost everyone is snotty with a sore throat.

Liana and Gillian were fighting with each other (which is normal, but more tears were shed today). Liana kept trying to build a structure in her new Angry Birds board game and every time she got ready to launch a bird Gillian knocked it over. Everything was making me cry. I wanted chocolate milk and when Mom gave it to me I wanted juice, but then I wanted chocolate in my juice and instead just climbed into the fridge and perched myself there to throw things at Mom. Mom gave up trying to make everyone happy and put videos on the computer while she went to make dinner.

She decided to make pasta and made the mistake of asking the girls for their input. Liana wanted spaghetti, Gillian wanted rotini, so Mom chose penne. She got the box out of the pantry and put it on the counter while the water heated. Something must have distracted her because she left the kitchen for a minute and when she returned she could not find the box of pasta. She looked all over the place for it, but could not find it. She asked the girls about it and they said they had not seen it. So, she chose a different box of pasta.

After she put the pasta in the water, Liana said, "Mom, did you ever find that box of pasta?" Mom said no and the girls started making up songs about the Missing Pasta Box Mystery.

A couple minutes later, Liana said, "Mom, I just wanted to let you know the pasta is in the play room. I didn't want that kind, so I just threw it in there."

So, Liana got the box out of the play room and I started running around the house using the box as a maraca.

A New 'Do

You all know my friend Azer, the Kung Zhu ninja hamster I love to hate. You have also heard about my sisters' normal Zhu Zhu Pets Nugget and Spottie (who is no longer called Sottie because both Liana and Gillian can now miraculously say their s-blends), who are not as cool as Azer because they are not ninjas. Anyway, all the hamsters have bright yellow stickers on the bottom of them with this warning:

"CAUTION: to prevent entanglement, keep hair away from wheels."

Yes, the second part is in bigger font on the sticker also. You might remember that Nugget met her demise partly because of picking up hair from the floor in her wheels, and partly because Mom thought she was a robot veterinarian (read about it here). Well, Azer is a Kung Zhu, so I wanted to test him and Mom made the mistake of handing him to me when I was in a particularly feisty mood. Needless to say, Azer conquered Mom's hair and Mom ended up with a hamster dangling from her head for a decent part of the afternoon (by that, I mean about 5 minutes). Mom's hair is crazy anyway, so you can't really tell where Azer left his mark, but we won't forget.

Now we know why that font is so big.

Changing the Game

I am not happy. I recently discovered some information that changes everything. Yesterday morning we were eating breakfast--the delicious combination of toast and peanut butter--and Liana's starts complaining about her tooth hurting. Now, Liana and Gillian are always complaining about various phantom pains and ailments, so we didn't pay much attention to her. A moment later, she yells,"My tooth is wiggling! I have a loose tooth!"

Mom and Gillian rush over to her to investigate and sure enough, one of her bottom front teeth is wiggling. I think a trip to the dentist is in my future, but she starts jumping up and down, cheering. "Yay! I can't wait for it to fall out so I can use my tooth pillow and get a prize from the Tooth Fairy!"

What now? You're telling me that I spent the last year of my life suffering as my beautiful teeth pushed their way through my gums and now they're just going to fall out when I'm five? Not acceptable. I've currently got four molars coming in, so my normally pleasant demeanor has been replaced by a crabby one that can be set off by anything (today I cried any time I dropped something on the floor and any time someone left a room). But now I've discovered that this pain is all in vain. What's the point?

I'm not happy with you, teeth. This is not the end of this.

P.S. Liana brought home the news from her classmates that the Tooth Fairy is now paying $5 per tooth. Maybe I'll reconsider.

A Day in the Life

Doing a post like this last year was a big hit, so I thought I'd try it again. Sorry the day didn't include any pooping on the floor or vomiting. I did my best. Happy birthday to Gila and happy "Wear Your Ramah T-Shirt Day!"

7:15 am: Wake up to Gillian's screaming. She has already lost her dress for the day (one of the biggest consequences she can get), and now she has lost TV for the day. Oh, the horror.

7:16 am: Dad gets me from my crib and realizes I am covered in jelly goo from my diaper exploding. Reason #27 I do not like disposable diapers.

7:20 am: Into the shower with Mom. I like to line up all the soap bottles and talk to them like they are my minions.

7:30 am: It's "Wear Your Ramah T-Shirt Day," so Mom and Dad are trying to convince the girls to wear their shirts. Rioting ensues. If my shirt fit me I would wear it, but it goes down to my feet. Only Mom and Dad end up wearing their shirts.

7:50 am: Breakfast musical chairs. Liana has Cocoa Puffs with no milk. I have Cocoa Puffs with no milk. Gillian has the unholy combination of Cocoa Puffs, Frosted Mini Wheats, and Raisin Bran with milk. I take Liana's bowl. Liana takes my bowl. Mom brings out cups of milk and tells the girls not to drink mine. Therefore, I don't want to drink mine, so I drink Gillian's. Gillian pours her mushy mess of cereal into my bowl (which was actually Liana's bowl) and asks for dry Frosted Mini Wheats. Mom refuses. Gillian screams. I take my original bowl back, leaving Liana with nothing. Liana gets a new bowl of Cocoa Puffs.

8:05 am: Begin the mad rush to get to the bus stop by 8:19 am. It was bad enough before, but now we have to deal with coats, hats, mittens, etc. It's ridiculous.

8:13 am: Ready to go outside. Mom has me strapped on her back and realizes I don't have a hat on. Liana has already gone out the door, so Mom hands Gillian my hat and asks her to put it on my head so she doesn't have to unstrap me. What is she thinking? Luckily, I survive.

8:22 am: My favorite part of the day. Bus! It's one of the few words I say that people besides Mom and Dad can actually understand.

8:45 am: Mom is trying to get me and Gillian into the car to take Gillian to school. I decide to poop because it's more fun to do it at the most inconvenient time possible.

9:00 am: We drop Gillian off at school and head to grocery shopping.

9:27 am: Some guy comments on how awesome my hat is. I don't care for it and am only wearing it because we couldn't find any others. I don't like people talking to me in grocery stores. I know I am awesome. You don't have to tell me. I look the other way and ignore the guy.

10:15 am: I help Mom carry the groceries into the house. She tries to give me small things like bread. I want to carry the #10 can of crushed tomatoes. I carry it a few feet and then decide I'd rather just roll it. I am big, strong and awesome.

11:00 am: Mom is cleaning out the pantry so I go to organize the spice cabinet (which means taking everything out of the spice cabinet and organizing it on the floor).

11:04 am: Mom finds a ball in the pantry and throws it to me. Goodbye, spice cabinet--my life has meaning now.

11:45 am: Have a tickle fight with Mom, during which she realizes I have four molars coming in. Now she knows why I've been cranky this week. It wasn't the time change, silly.

11:50 am: Mom has made me crazy now, so I'm just running around the house, screaming, and finding many crazy and fun ways to play with Mom's Camp Ramah sweatshirt. I turn the easel into a car and drive around the house, still screaming.

11:58 am: Stickers are more fun when you put them on your face.

12:05 pm: Lunch. Veggie burger, cheese, pickles.

12:40 pm: Mom tries to put my diaper on so we can go pick up Gillian. I am not interested, but she wins that battle.

12:50 pm: Into the car to get Gillian and I fall asleep.

3:55 pm: Up from my nap. Proceed to eat most of a jar of pickles. (Both in honor of Gila and in an attempt to bring about vomit for Gila's birthday today.)

4:04 pm: Out to the bus stop. Gillian stays home by herself to play computer. Is that really a good idea?

4:10 pm: Bus!

4:35 pm: Liana yells, "Gillian poured water on the computer!" Mom rushes over--it's only a couple drops.

4:40 pm: I'm vrooming my big pink Barbie car around the house because that how I roll. Lightning McQueen and Ramone (from the movie Cars) are driving the car. The more cars the better. After a few minutes of vrooming, I start crashing. They don't call me The Smasher for nothing. Gillian's ponies can't hide from me.

5:30 pm: Dinner. Spaghetti and broccoli. I actually eat the food that's on my plate instead of everyone else's.

6:15 pm: A little after-dinner smashing and then attempting to steal Halloween candy from my sisters.

6:30 pm: Bedtime already? I run naked through the hallway in an attempt to escape bedtime and the horrible nighttime disposable diaper. Again, I lose the diaper battle. The girls sit calmly reading with Mom while I read my favorite book, Banana. It's about two monkeys who want to share a banana and the only word in it is banana. I may only be 21 months old, but I can read my first book. Except I pronounce the word banana as "a-ya-ya."

7:00 pm: Into bed. I snuggle up with my eight binkies and stare at my nemesis The Frog as he lulls me off to slumberland.

I have a drinking problem...

The first step is acknowledging you have a problem.  Fine, I will take that first step.  I have a drinking problem.  I know, I am just 21 months old and I cannot get enough of the stuff.  If those months were years, this would not be an issue, but alas, I am just a toddler and those months are just months. Anywho, I cannot go through a meal without wanting at least a cupful, and that is a lot for someone with my figure. 

All drinking problems have to start somewhere and mine started with Gillian.  She always wanted a cup at meals and my parents caved in like the craven individuals that they often are.  She looked so cool, relaxed, like she was having a great time.  I wanted that.  I needed that.  I craved that.

So now we are at lunch.  I had carrots and a quesadilla, pretty standard fare.  What goes good with that lunch?  That is right, a cup of the good stuff.  My mom had her cup and I really wanted it.  I had been seeing G partake at meals and wanted to make that mine.  My mom did not want to share, so she poured me my own cup.  I was so nervous with this being my first time; I did not know what to do.  I was winging this and I know I made some mistakes.  I made a huge faux pas by dipping my quesadilla into it.  Not half bad actually.  It accentuated the cheese really nicely.  So I decided to dip my carrot into it.  As I got the carrot up to my mouth, I decided I was more interested in "the sauce" than I was in the carrot.  I sucked the groovy gravy right off of that carrot and proceeded to dip like it was the Passover of 1999 (I heard there was A LOT of dipping that year).  The carrot was not getting enough into my mouth.  A choice had to be made.  I am not proud of my decision.  Please do not lose respect for me.  I threw the carrot on the ground, picked up the cup, took a deep breath, and just started to drink.  It was leaking out my mouth onto my shirt and smearing all over my face.  When done, there was a sizable burp and I wanted more.  Since that meal, I scream until my mom brings me the cup of the good stuff.  I need help.  Please.  I am too young to be experiencing addiction like this.

My name is Asher and I am a ranchaholic. 

Rules for Parenting

Now, my mom had three kids, so she should know some things about parenting. Number one on that list should be "If your child has been taking laxatives once or twice a day for the last week and just started pooping again yesterday, don't let him run around the house without a diaper no matter how bad the diaper rash is." If you choose not to follow rule number one, rule number two on the list should be "If you are in a different room from the diaperless child and he starts yelling, 'poop!' go to him right away." My mom did not follow either of these rules today, and let's just say there was an incident in the playroom. One of Daddy's Rubik's Cubes ended up in the trash and Sweetie Belle ended up where no My Little Pony should ever dare to go. Hopefully Mom has learned her lesson.