Potty Talk

It's toddler potty training time in our family! Which means that as an aunt, I have to assume responsibility if I'm the only adult around when a kid says they need to use the potty even if I have no idea about the potty routine!

For instance, there was that one time Ben went to go potty and said I had to hold it. I lifted up his shirt thinking it was in his way and thus qualified as the "it" that needed holding, but he whined that wasn't right. I asked again what he needed me to hold, he gave another whiny ambiguous answer, and we shared a very confusing moment in potty training history. I called his mom to ask what was up with holding Ben's boy part for him when he peed, and she was like, "Uhhh, we don't do that. Don't know where he got that. But thanks?"

Which is why I'm glad kids don't form lasting memories until they're 3.

Somewhat related but too cute to pass up, Ben got new big boy panties for Christmas and was so excited he put them on as soon as he opened the package... outside of his jammies. Don't they just look great with his new Buzz Lightyear shoes???Renee is also potty training, but since I'm a girl and know how to potty, there's less confusion with her. Except when it comes to her reading material.

When she told me she needed the green book, I said okay, got up and went and looked in the toys for a green book. Coming up blank, I brought her a different one about happy farm animals.

Turns out she wanted the copy of Crime & Punishment sitting on the back of the toilet.Figures. While Ben sat on the floor reading the farm animal book like a normal 3-year-old, Renee voluntarily skimmed some Dostoyevsky, like a normal Doctor of Russian Literature.These babies. Teaching me more than college ever tried to and making me feel completely unprepared and moronic.

Sugar. And Spice.

Renee is just that age. You know, where she is so cute and so terrible all at the same time. And her favorite words are RIGHT NOW!

Over Christmas, while Shannon was on Crazy Baking Lady Marathon 2009, Renee, who has a major sweet tooth, asked her mom for some caramel that had been made by boiling condensed milk for hours and hours and hours. Shannon, being the Nicest Mommy in the World, a title earned in part by her willingness to let Renee use a cookie cutter to make heart-shaped cheese pieces and in part by her ability to keep her composure when she is being screamed at by a 20-pound dictator, scooped some caramel from the lid to give to her baby girl.

Apparently, that's akin to stabbing a puppy in the eyes with a spoon.

Renee shrieked -- there's not even a word for what she did but we'll go with shrieked -- "NOT ON THE LID!!!" so furiously all you could do was bulge your eyes and laugh at her. Shannon calmly looked at her like she was a patient on the psych ward and said, "Okay, you have to have a timeout. You don't scream at Mommy."

When Renee starts to lose her shit on me, I push her down. Gently, but it's a push and she falls down. And she laughs and forgets that I took all of 6 seconds to open the M&Ms.

You'd think with all the treats she eats, she might be a little sweeter, but I think we're past the sweet baby stage. Last Christmas she was so melty for love that when you'd give her kisses she'd smoosh into you like creamy chocolate. It was wonderful. This Christmas kisses are old news and now she wants candy dammit. And sugar bombs.

Luckily Santa provided her with the sugar, and Christmas morning went off without too much of a hitch since Renee was sufficiently medicated. For every present she opened, I'm pretty sure she had a piece of candy in her mouth.

The gold coins that Jewish kids get because, well, Walgreens had them.

A Christmas tree sucker that lights up.

Reese's peanut butter holiday character... unsure which because Renee never hesitates to bite off their heads.

Look at the yellow sucker eating/present opening multi-tasking!

It's basically the biggest elevator in the world.

Laila and I went to LA County Museum of Art yesterday while Mack listened to boring med school lectures. I've visited this museum a handful of times, enough that I'm starting to feel like I've run into an old friend when I see that piece of the man and the woman from Picasso's blue period, but they've added a building full of contemporary art since I left LA and I was dying to see the art inside.

We rode this giant escalator up to the third floor and went inside to an enormous room full of work by Jeff Koons and Andy Warhol. Then we walked through a lifetime of work by Joseph Beuys, a member of Hitler's Youth who ultimately became a revolutionary art professor and environmentalist. And then we took in an entire floor full of self-portraits from a private collection.

After a couple hours, we were getting tired, so we pushed the elevator button to head back up to the third floor to exit. One of the gallery attendants asked us if we preferred to use the new elevator, and after stepping back a few feet, we realized that the giant glass wall next to us was actually an elevator door.

"It's the biggest elevator in the world," she said.

"Yes, please," we replied, turning our noses up at the piddly little familiar elevator we were standing in front of.

The wall parted and we scooted into an elevator as big as an elementary school stage. We had the entire place to ourselves, so we made some impromptu sort-of-self-portraits to commemorate the day we experienced the biggest elevator the world has ever known.And just to prove how big it is, here's a shot from floor to ceiling, with Laila for scale.

Wax On, Wax Off

A couple days ago, with weather that was just too gorgeous to pass up, Mack, Laila, Shahin and I headed to Hollywood to eat dinner and people watch. And because we're suckers for wax sculptures, we also stopped into Madame Tussaud's Wax Museum.

(I should say here that if you are a teacher of any sort, you get free admission, so be sure to ask about teacher "discounts." Also, I love being a student again... discounts to the movies, to museums, to Madame Tussaud's and to J. Crew!)

I love Madame Tussaud's and am always amazed at how realistic and small the people look. For some reason, I imagine celebrities to be taller than me, but in reality, I'm pretty much the same height as Jamie Foxx and Shakira is like a 10-year-old. I also imagine them to be gorgeous, even in wax form, if their name is George Clooney.
Here are some of our other shining moments.Part of what made this outing so fun was Shahin and her desperate need for the Celebrity Mom Translator. If you're not versed in the Celebrity Mom Translator, here's your education.

Six Years Later

The day after Shannon and Charles got married, Leiah and I went to Indiana for our cousin's wedding and met up with the Scott side of the family, including our dad Greg. That was 2003.

It's almost 2010.

Our dad has been splitting time between here and Iraq, working on the rebuild and shooting guns that are bigger than my nephew for fun. He came back to the states over Thanksgiving, so we made a plan to catch up before I left for LA. He booked a smoking room at the Holiday Inn Express and it was official.

The first night he was here Mack and I met him for a beer near his hotel. It was the first time he and Mack met, and the conversation was aglow with contractor talk. Overseas contractor talk. A subject I know nothing about, which was good because it made me a good listener.

And I realized something.

My dad is happy. He seems to love being on missions, overseas assignments, rebuilds, away from home. He's a Marine, and I think that experience scratched an itch he has for danger and gave credence to his preference for being left alone.

That being said, I also realized he cares about his family. He brought us a copy of some 8mm films my Grandpa made of them as kids -- my dad as a 1-year-old walking up the driveway at my grandparents' house and eating rocks, my uncle Mike who died when I was 11 carrying around their pet raccoons, my aunt Deb leading around a giant horse named Buttercup. I saw my Grandma as a stunning 30-something on Easter morning and that ornery twinkle that my Grandpa has apparently had in his eye all his life. I learned that they lived in 12 Mile at the farmhouse I remember but that they also did a stint in Dayton, OH. And then I saw a video of me, about 6 months old, Shan, at the age Renee is now, and my mom, younger than Betsy is now.

For a lot of my life, my time with the Scotts was spent in the moment, for the weekend, enjoying them as they were at that time... which means that I know very little about who they were before these people assumed the identities of my dad, my grandparents, my aunts, my uncles. I've had the opportunity to talk to my mom about her childhood, about the experiences that shaped who she is, and our relationship is richer for it. I haven't been able to talk to my dad about those things, so while some of me may feel like he's a stranger, a big piece of me understands that when you know nothing, you have the chance to learn a lot.

Cookie Monsters

Laila told me the other day that she'd never made Christmas cookies, and since that was one of my favorite parts of winter break when I was a kid, well, I just could not let her go another year without the experience of cutting cookies, sprinkling sprinkles, and eating raw cookie dough on the sly.

Plus, she needs to learn patience and how to see things through to the end, and nothing takes as much patience and sticktoitiveness as making three sheets worth of cookies and decorating all. of. them.

What I Did Today, A Day in the Middle of December

Drank a cantaloupe juice at my favorite beach restaurant, Elvira's Cha Cha Chicken... apparently its infinite deliciousness causes strokes.

Ate jerk veggie enchiladas, black beans and rice and fried plantains on the patio.

Watched Mack climb the rope on Santa Monica Beach.*
Dangled from the rings and remembered how wimpy my hands are.

* Mack climbed the entire rope twice so that I could get a picture of him at the top... proof he actually can climb it all the way.

It just doesn't seem fair not to show it. Especially since he almost shredded the top of his foot coming down the second time.

Like, totally, PS

I'm in LA with LAila, and OMG girls this age are TALKATIVE. Lord help you, Lisa.

So what have we been talking about? You know, hamsters, Taylor Swift, all the single ladies.

I have spent the day looking at pictures like these.



I had no idea there were so many photos of hamsters available for little girls with iTouch's. Hamsters and puppies. And PS, you can only talk about those things in a baby voice.

I love Laila, but I swear, if she ruins All the Single Ladies for me... She's already taken Lady Gaga's Poker Face; she better step off my Beyonce. Or PS, we're gonna have issues.

Three Weeks Ago Today...