Thin Mints, Chinese Orphans and The Boy

Things that are thin:

 * The MacBook Air

 * Karen Carpenter

 * My Patience

 * Thin Mints

 * The Line Between Love and Hate

 * Chinese Orphans

 * My son, The Boy

I know The Boy is only six, but I'm pretty sure he has an eating disorder. Like any concerned, highly strung and sometimes intoxicated mother, I spent some time Googling toddler eating disorders and forced the pieces to fit my puzzle.

Pay attention people.  Here are some signs that your precious little lanky and angular first grader might have an eating disorder, too:

Does he/she wear big or baggy clothes?  Sure does. My son couldn't keep his pants on for nothin'. We could be in a room with 500 people and if the word Pants! was shouted, my son would be the first to wiggle his size 5's back to where they belong without skipping a beat.

Does he/she have an obsession with continuous exercise? Yes, in fact he does. His workout routine starts at 6:30 in the morning with cardio. This usually entails playing Wipeout in his bedroom and then running circles around his mother's bed, repeating the words Waffles, Waffles, Waffles. By 10:00 he's ready for the pool and will swim all day long if his mother lets him, which his mother doesn't because she has things to do too and is fed up with sweating her ass off in this Nevada heat which is clearly just an expression because her ass is just as big today as it was yesterday. Swimming is followed by skateboarding, biking and a little bit of downhill luge. Most days also include shadow boxing and some All-State worthy freestyle wrestling with his younger sister, Boss Lady. When it comes to exercising with his older sister, he prefers to lick his hand, smack her across some area of exposed skin and then run for his life. 

Visible food restrictions and self starvation?  Where do I start? The Boy eats PB & J but only without the J. He eats more pasta than Mario Batali, but only with butter or Alfredo sauce. No red sauce and no cheese and good God don't try to slip him a meatball. If he's forced to sit at the table while his sister has dessert, he might have an inch or two of chicken. No fish. No beef. No hot dogs. He prefers a bun with just ketchup. Might eat rice. Must have waffles in the morning. No eggs. Likes his cereal dry with a glass of milk on the side. Likes apples, hates melon. Big fan of chips, salsa and taco shells with no filling. Is repulsed be vegetables and all things green, except of course green Otter Pops.

What's a parent to do?

Well ... I've got that book, Deceptively Delicious, but with The Boy's all-day-every-day workout routine it's been hard scheduling time to steam, puree and jar vegetables that I'm supposed to sneak into his meals. Mama has to have time to chill, uncork and pour Chardonnay too, you know. 

I am however making the switch to whole wheat pasta. Hold your applause.

The Boy, shown here in a display of deep shame.

It is clear that the stigma of being the only six year old in his entire school to be diagnosed with the rare Possibly-Maybe-Probably-Not-Eating Disorder is a great burden to carry.

That, or he is passed out from too many Skittles.

The Boy Turns Six!

Yesterday Maximus turned six and kicked off his big day by crawling into my bed at 6:00. That was okay because Lucifer's Birds (which make their unhallowed nest right outside my bedroom window) start their unearthly cackling and screeching at about 3:00 AM, so I was already awake-ish.

The Birthday Plan of Attack was simple; pool, pizza, a little Pop-a-Shot and some golf (pee wee style, cause that's how we roll). It can't all be about fun though; lessons were learned on this day. Take note: 

• Boys and girls, it's not okay to sneak a sip of Mom's fruity looking drink when Mom is in the pool. That's a no-no.
• Mom doesn't like her fruity looking drink diluted with water, especially pool whatever. Tisk tisk, little man.
• It's not okay to pee in the pool, however it is okay to pee in the corner by the bushes (thanks, Grandma).
• Caution: An amputated Hannah Montana Barbie does not float. Mom learned that she prefers Hannah Montana at the bottom of the pool, without arms and without hope.
• Birthday Boy learned that Mom has impeccable aim and can hit him in the eye with a water gun from clear across the pool. (Mom didn't hang out at the Carnival just to flirt with TB inflicted clowns, people. Mom has some mad Be-the-First-to-Pop-the-Balloon-With-Your-Squirt-Gun skills.)
• Mom learned that for a six year old, Max has a tremendous capacity to inflict revenge upon his attackers in a very covert, Navy Seal sort of way.
• Mom learned that $20 in tokens earns 390 tickets which buys a booty consisting of two miniaturized packs of Fun Dip, three boxes of Snaps and a microscopic plush fish.
• Mom learned that Bonnie and Clyde are savvy with the top lock to the front door and prefer to play with their Snaps outside in their underwear while Mom showers, which is funny 'cause that's exactly how Mom likes to play Snaps.