Promise me you'll read the entire post before spreading any rumors

First things first: I totally forgot just how good "Jealous Kind" by Jars of Clay is until today. I may or may not be listening to it repeatedly and have bumped the YouTube video up a couple thousand views.

Also, it's very possible I am belting it out as I type and, believe me when I say my falsetto sounds awesome.

Anyways...

I come to you for help. Yesterday at the library, I searched through hundreds of children's books for 20 good ones to bring home. I'm constantly on the hunt for new good ones because I'm afraid I might go bonkers if I have to read "The Berenstain Bears and No Girls Allowed" one. more. time.

Not that it isn't a good book. It is. It's just that by the 493th reading in 72 hours, I'm so inundated with life in Bear Country that I start thinking I can actually smell the barbecue salmon and honeycomb.

Which brings us back to why I was combing the shelves yesterday. I'm one who totally judges books by their covers. If it's pretty, I pick it up.

This method failed me yesterday.

Out of 20 books I brought home, two of them were about breaking news of an impending baby brother or sister.

Before I go further, trust me, I have no news to announce.

These books just had pretty covers and were innocuously titled "The Berenstain Bears and the Easter Surprise" and "Princess Petunia Takes Charge."

Halfway through reading the first book aloud with Joe in the other room, I had to explain to my very curious and possibly shell-shocked husband that this was not some subtle, cute way of breaking any news.

If I actually were pregnant, I would not tell him through the words of Stan and Jan Berenstain. Also, my telling would probably involve a little more drama than, "'And so, Brother Bear,' said Mama, 'you're going to have a special Easter surprise.'"

It would probably be more like, "OHMYWORDOHMYWORDOHMYWORDOHMYWORDOHMYWORD."

So I put that one down and picked up the next one. By the third page, I discovered that Princess Petunia was going to be a big sister.

I think I actually said, "For crying out loud!" because, really, what are the chances of picking up two of those books?!

Which brings me back to my original point. I need books recommendations. Preferably ones that don't include an explanation to why Mama's lap appears to be getting smaller and smaller. Thanks.

$500 is a high price for killing a raccoon but possibly worth it

I might have mentioned my sometimes-but-sometimes-not irrational fear of rodents a couple of times. Maybe a bazillion. Whatever.

I don't have this fear for attention; the fear is real and true and deep-rooted in a horrific Lassie episode.

Matilda was my first true encounter. And after last weekend, I now believe all rodents have heard about me and are conspiring to come to find me.

We went up to South Haven, Michigan for a beach day with my family. It was a wonderful day. Madeline loved it all, the sand, the waves, the boats, everything. It was perfect weather, a beautiful setting and some of my very favorite people in the world.

In other words, it was the complete opposite of last year.

So, of course, something had to go wrong.

Since our trusty (except that one time when I was sure I was going to die) Honda has 235,000 miles on it, we don't expect him to make long trips. He's put in his time in 1994 and deserves a break every now and then.

And yes, our car has a name. We love him that much. He is our Steed because Webster defines steed as "a spirted horse, as for war." Fits him perfectly.

Have I mentioned I love Steed? He is so good to us.

Anyways....

For any length of road trip, we rent a car and leave Steed home. It's $18 a day through Enterprise and totally worth it to not stress about Steed breaking down hours from home. Because I'm sure when he gives up, he's going to go out with style and totally blow up in smithereens.

Since this wasn't a long trip, we opted to not get the $15 insurance. Because why pay an extra $15 when the car just costs $18?

ANSWER: YOU PAY $15 BECAUSE IF ANYTHING, I REPEAT, IF ANYTHING HAPPENS, YOU DON'T PAY A CENT MORE.

For a mere $15, we could have smashed that little Hyundai to bits and not be responsible for the damages at all.

But no, we decided to not buy the insurance because we're cheap like that.

On our way back home, around midnight and after passing Mexico, Indiana (I can't make up details like that, folks; it's all true), we hit a raccoon.

Actually, we nailed a raccoon. Hard.

I believe he was coming for me. Coincidence that my last blog title included the word "raccoon?" I think not.

Instead of attacking me and fulfilling his mission, he hit the radiator, causing the car to overheat, make a loud funky sound and shudder to a stop.

I can't really express the joy of waiting on the highway shoulder, waking Madeline up to transfer her to my brother's car, realizing Joe, my parents and two other brothers would have to wait in a gas station parking lot for TWO HOURS for a tow truck and understanding this fun little experience would cost us an insurance deductible.

Oh, the joys of being an adult. Who doesn't buy the additional insurance.

ALWAYS, ALWAYS, ALWAYS BUY THE INSURANCE, PEOPLE!

Have I made that point yet?

The following day, Joe and I discussed our road trip luck. Or lack thereof.

On our first trip, way back in college, we hit a dog. A big dog while going about 90 mph at 4 a.m. That resulted in another busted radiator and two hours of sitting on a nasty, nasty, nasty gas station floor.

We have had our fair share of flat tires and speed-trap tickets.

We once drove an hour and a half in the wrong direction. Like, totally wrong direction. North, instead of east.

"I thought the Rocky Mountains would be rockier than this."
"That John Denver's full of..."

Please tell me you get that line and don't think I'm just crazy.

But despite our dumb luck, we have never been hurt or hurt anyone else. And for that, I'm thankful.

I'm $500 poorer but thankful.

And there's one less raccoon haunting your highways. You're welcome.

Now sporting classy raccon eyes

It has rained 56 out of the last 40 days in Indiana. No joke.

OK, maybe that's exaggerating but it really has down-poured a lot during the last month. Enough that we haven't been able to walk to the park, swim at the pool or go on a picnic most days. And while I love cozy, rainy days, I especially like them in the winter when you're only missing out on slushy streets and cheek-freezing winds.

But in the last two days, I feel like summer has officially begun. In the last 36 hours, we have:

• signed up for two summer reading programs
• picnicked at our favorite spot with Daddy
• spent an afternoon at the pool with Madeline's best friend Blake after which Madeline napped hard and I nursed my sun-burnt shoulders
  
• ate Popsicles
• joyously spotted little green tomatoes and zucchini in our garden

I feel like summer has finally arrived.

And if you have a kid under 12, you NEED to sign up for Half Price Books summer reading program, Feed Your Brain. Thankfully, a friend told us how great it is so I signed Madeline up.

For reading just 15 minutes a day for five days, your child will earn a $3 shopping card.

Um, we read that much just during breakfast. Seriously.

Since a lot of kids books run $2 - 4, it makes for a pretty sweet deal. I already have my eye on some adorable hardback Madeline books but I'm guessing we'll be walking out with Pooh or Elmo in hand.

Either way, it's free books for something we're already doing. Love that.

I might mention "squating" in this one

Remember the potty-training post? From, like, four months ago when I thought for three seconds that my daughter was miraculously potty-trained?

Yeah, we haven't made much progress since then.

In our house, she gets a sticker for just siting on the potty and "Emmys" for actually going potty. Let's just say Madeline's sticker board is full and I ate the M&M's because I can only resist temptation for so long.

In other words, nothing has happened.

It's OK. I'm not pushing her. I'm not panicking. We're just waiting.

But yesterday, I finally heard those words I've been dying to hear: "Mommy! Pee in potty! Pee in potty!"

The bad news? We were in the middle of the nation's sixth largest city park which happens to house the most disgusting bathrooms in world history.

Which means when she finally told me she had to go potty, we were in the middle of something like this:

I cannot even begin to describe my gut-wrenching disappointment and heartbreak as I told her, "Baby, I'm so proud of you for telling me you have to go potty but I'm really sorry. We don't have a potty."

Because there's no way I'm putting my child in a nasty park outhouse.

I know, I know. One day will come when that's the only option.

But I'll be prepared by then. With toilet sheets and a daughter who knows how to squat.

Say what?

If you would like an in-depth look at what's coming out of your mouth, just have a 2 year old follow you around for a day. He or she will pick up your most frequent sayings, intonations and hand movements.

By the end of the day, you will have a Mini-Me. Hopefully, sans bad words.

Madeline never says "yes." And I mean never. She'll say "right right," "ok ok ok" or nod her head fervently with her mouth hanging wide open in a wide, excited smile but she'll never say "yes."

I've been trying to get her to say it by making a big deal of answering her questions with a "yes." But then I realized I never say it either.

I taught her to say "right right" and "ok ok ok."

(I've also noticed I tend to say words multiple times. I got the patch and am giving myself daily injections to stop it.)

And yes, I've caught myself answering her questions by nodding excessively with a big, dorky smile and my mouth hanging wide open.

Then there was this response today:

Me: "Madeline, would you like to go play in the water?"
Madeline: "Right, right!"

Oh, honey, bless your heart. You're not even making sense.

It's also come to my attention I don't use normal verbs like "take a shower" or "get in the car."

Me: "Madeline, it's bath time!"
Madeline: "Mommy, jump in shower? Jump in shower?"

I have absolutely no idea where she's heard that before.

Then there's:

Me: "Let's go go!"
Madeline: "Hop in car! Hop in car!"

If you're around me for .2 seconds, you'll notice I say "hop." A lot. Like "hop down from the chair" or "hop up in the crib."

I must think I'm raising a bunny.

So basically, I share all this so next time you have a conversation with Madeline, you can know it's not the poor girl's fault.

She's with me, the person answering your question by nodding enthusiastically with her mouth hanging open.

I possibly had way too much cake this weekend

At the beginning of the weekend, this is how we felt:

After a wedding and three birthday parties, we were more like this:

Faithful readers will understand just how busy we were when I say we didn't even have time to watch one stinkin' movie all weekend. Drastic, I know.

One of the birthday parties was at a super nice restaurant and I'm pretty sure it was my vision of heaven because the food and wine just kept on coming. We enjoyed:

• four appetizers
• salad and bread
• three entrees
• two more entrees
• dessert

Clearly, I have no excuse to eat until August. Madeline managed to eat a ton and still had room for three biscotti after dessert and coffee. At that point in the evening, eating meant she wasn't causing a raucous so I let her.

I wish I had video of her because after all that food (and since this was after the wedding and another birthday party) she was incredibly slap-happy around 10 p.m. Madeline's version of slap-happy means screaming and laughing when someone so much as blinks in her direction.

I think the waitstaff didn't know what to do with a sugar-crazed 2-year-old but they finally gave in and laughed with her. They also kept supplying her with the biscotti.

In other totally unrelated but just as important news, Madeline finally donned the dinosaur suit at the Children's Museum. She had no interest in wearing it for the past 14 months but Friday was finally the day.

I closed my mind to the looming 3 trazillion germs inside the gloves and focused on how cute she would be. It's not every day you get to see your daughter with a tail.

But you better believe I sanitized her the second those gloves were off.

P.S. I think one's week has room for improvement when my highlight is Thursday night because it will include honey chicken kabobs and SYTYCD.

P.S.S. Jen, Wal-Mart has six different ice trays.

Then it was summer. Warm, glorious summer.

This past weekend, Joe and I had nothing planned.We had absolutely nothing planned and it was glorious.

We wanted to keep it that way which is why we said we wouldn't plan anything for ourselves. Just wake up and decide what to do then.

We watched six movies (I feel no shame). We took a 3-hour nap. We went to the Woodruff Place flea market (which I highly recommend for you locals). We sat on the front porch. I read. We played Candyland. We drank sweet tea. We pushed Madeline on the swing for hours. We ate well. (And by "well," I mean we ate according to our taste buds, not nutritional value.)

Mac and cheese.

Junk popcorn.

Beer burgers.

Coffee malts.

Can you do something for me? Brew a pot of coffee. Put it in the fridge. Go to the store and buy vanilla ice cream and Ovaltine. Now make a coffee malt. You're welcome.

Back to the weekend. More than anything else, we spent time together. Just the three of us. Which we haven't done in a long time. It was wonderful.

We needed it because this weekend, we're diving back into the crazy schedule. In two days, we'll pack in three birthday parties and a wedding.

I've already planned to somehow squeeze in one or two (or 15) coffee malts.