I'm being chased by subliminal messages everywhere.

Maybe they aren't so subliminal.

Around our home I have spotted three, count them, THREE pairs of wayward panties/big boy pants crumpled in the parking lot, under a tree, or near the swimming pool. Since when did tiny-people underwear start wandering off? Socks, I can understand. But underwear?!

We are determined to not have two kids in diapers and though the months are somehow zipping by, my son's determination/willingness/interest/desire to be potty trained comes and goes as quickly as the robins outside our window. One day he's nearly potty-pro and the next day he's anything but pro-potty. Sigh.

I have to wonder if perhaps these wayward underpants I keep seeing aren't pairs that belong to little ones such as my son who think they are meant to be thrown OUT like diapers. Isn't it obvious that they aren't since they don't have sticky tabs? Hmm.

Needless to say, big boy pants and potty trips are certainly on my mind.

While gathering my week's supply of fruit and veggies in the produce section of the grocery store the other day, a bustling produce worker approached me and asked what I was looking for in an apple (almost as if he were asking what I looked for in a man).

I laughed, "Well, I guess I like crisp, sweet apples."

He proceeded to share his wealth of apple knowledge describing to me the characteristics of each Fuji, Gala, Cameo, Granny Smith, Red & Golden Delicious, Braeburn, and all others that were out on display.

"I've always been a fan of the Fuji," I said.

"Well, if you like the Fuji, come back in a month or two and we'll have one that's so big, and so sweet, you'll have to hold it with two hands and eat it with your husband in front of the TV with a block of cheese."

I laughed again, "Oh! Sounds so romantic!" I was serious...sharing a nice apple with my sweet hubby & cutting up nice little slices and enjoying the evening together sounds romantic to me! The produce manager gave me a look that suggested I was nuts for thinking an apple could ilicit any romance at all. Perhaps our ideas of romance differ as much as our idea of a good apple may differ...maybe he likes sour, mushy apples. Sigh. I'll have to go back in a month or two and try it out, I guess. Maybe report back to him...

In the mean time, I'll just continue to watch how every apple my babeh holds seems to be as big for him as I anticipate the early summer apples to be for me...

I don't know what I did wrong.

We had a good three-week stretch where I was SURE my babeh was nearly all the way potty-trained. He would tell me when he needed to "go" and he happily sat on the toilet whenever I offered him the chance--and he'd actually "GO."

Now, though all he wants to wear are his "big boy pants," he suddenly hates the toilet and screams if I put him near it. He says "uh oh!" moments before he wets/messes his pants but has absolutely no desire or will to do it the way he's done it for nearly a month.

Is this normal? Should I just keep putting him in big-boy-pants or revert back to the diaper? Should I force toilet time or just let him warm up to it again?

Urgh. I have no clue. Help.

If I don't wake up hungry, I know I didn't eat right the night before. I'm one of those people who would much rather feel a little hungry than a little full, so to me, waking up HUNGRY and ready to eat is a lovely feeling.

Lately, its TANGELOS that I crave. My babeh and I have been going through oodles of these outie-belly-buttoned oranges lately and I have yet to get sick of them. Did you know that a tangelo is the result of an accidental hybrid of a tangerine and a grapefruit?

Yum. Delish. And Costco has them in bulk right now. We're in one juicy heaven.

Today we celebrate the birthday of two of our closest (in proximity and relationship, coincidentally) neighbors. My babeh has a not-so-secret crush on both of these little ladies, so going to visit them today is going to be candy (not so much Chicken Soup) to his soul.

Tangent: I've always wondered what people who really don't like Chicken Soup (assuming there are such people) think of those Chicken Soup For the Soul books. I'm sure they can't quite get the concept the same way that those of us who love the soup do...

The other day he heard one of these above mentioned neighbors coming home and rushed to our front door calling her name as well as her son's. So I opened our front door (seeing as our doors are 3 feet apart in this condo complex we live in) so that he could have a quick neighborly visit and, alas, they were already gone. Without even blinking an eye, he ran to the pantry, carried his stool to their door, and rang their doorbell until they came to greet him.

Smart boy. Smart boy. He loves his ladies. Happy Birthday to them from him (and me)!