I LOVE JUSTIN BEIBER!! and other trivial revelations....

I love my son. Traxx is funny, energetic, handsome and loving. Sometimes however, I try very hard to ignore him. I am sure this sounds awful to a few of you who do not have children and the joy of single parenting with a home prison sentence due to lack of household fundage. But when a 36lb boy is hanging off of YOUR leg whilst you knit lint snow bunny cozies for the church bazaar or lick the windows (just because), I think ignoring him is the smart thing to do.

Lately the boy has found another passion deviating him from the marvel and wonder of mommy leg travel experiences.

CLUB HOUSES!!!!

Aww, I love you TOO!!!

I know you are thinking this activity is Justin Beiber devoid and I should be ecstatic, and I would LOVE to announce that it HAS NOTHING to do with Justin Beiber, but unfortunately, HE IS involved in the later stages of Club house habitation.

The girls found the front piece to Traxx's crib under their bed along with 1000 lbs of the tainted toy carcasses of shameful room cleaning,,

Every time Justin Beiber gets made fun of,

A HOBO loses a tooth!!

OH and they also found a happy hobo that smells like the Banana Republic store under the bed.

I like Harvey. I told him that he should be a part of my family, but instead of saying "I thought I already was" like that nice big homeless boy from "The Blind Side", he said that the highway underpass provides more sustenance and entertainment. He stated that he would be leaving in the morning unless I made banana pancakes and allowed him to "motorboat" my breasts.

I think he will be staying a while now.

The crib-front has proved itself as being the perfect "Grade A" club house wall. It is thin and light, will stand tall in 10,052 household locations and supports a spotless clean sheet like no ones business. The girls quickly assessed its vitality to great playtime bliss this weekend. Traxx was in awe of the notion of a "secret room" within a room.

The girls helped him fashion one and gave him a few clear building code violations to master.

Codes such as, but not limited to:

Shocked at the blatant Wubbie ABUSE!!

Using mommies Wubbie (that of course is imaginary to everyone else but me and the scary Cocoa Puff bird animal thing)

Aw Yes, I once was a Pier One Whore.
Now I just get the catalogs for the articles, I promise!

Sitting irreverently on a club house floor full of mommies lost dreams of grandeur, and the decorative shopping opportunity "skeletons" of a better time (Aka: Pier one pillows)

Currently watching cup cake porn on YouTube.

Jelly, in mass amounts, slipping off of stale bread

So when the girls went to their dad's, Traxx took up residency in the club house giving me a much needed break. The breaks waned in length of time between feedings as Traxx loves jumping up and snapping raw chicken from my hand like an alligator at a nature theme park, or is that sucking a semi-dry chicken salad sandwich out of my hand like a starving ant eater *shrugs*.

And then, I was invited into his world. I accepted graciously as I saw my opportunity to free my Wubby and lick jelly off of Pier one pillows.

I crawled in slowly and realized once again a secret that I had long forgotten from childhood.

Club houses ARE fun!!

You can't stay in the adult world for very long whilst crouching in a club house with a giggly 4 year old host. And why would you want to? Me and Traxx read a few books, played cars and Littlest pet shop for a while and of course got a little Bieber Fever therapy.

The glow from a neon pink sheet makes everything look different and new for a while (although the sound quality was not diluted there and my ears still bleed form the musical abuse).

And I remembered that even in the worst of times, a child's laughter can heal the pain and worry (if only for a moment). And that love and imagination STILL rock the Kasbah!

I also thought this was good practice for living in a cardboard box, but happy hobo Harvey promises he would always provide shelter for me at the top of the bridge, away from the peeing stoop. Life is good.