My kids... it's funny to say that, it makes me feel old. This week has been an interesting one for my little buddies and me. Here is a little list of some odd things that happened:
1. Early in the week, it was raining and terrible outside so I dragged us to Hobby Lobby in search of more yarn (which was ultimately not there). I was lugging Marina in her car seat and Eli was running just in front of me (but not in the parking lot, you judgers). As we entered the store, Eli took one step on the tile floor and his feet shot out from under him. He violently landed on his head. It made a grotesque thud on the floor. Lucky for his little brain, he was wearing his winter hat, so it cushioned the blow slightly. Poor little guy started crying and needed me to fix his head for him. Oddly enough, an employee was dusting a counter a few feet away and never even looked up... hmm. She must not like kids.
2. Today, back at Hobby Lobby, in search of that elusive yarn, Eli walked in the same door and loudly (practically in a shout) informed me that his wiener itched (and we know that Hobby Lobby is such a conservative store). He had been walking funny for a few paces before the announcement. I told him that he better take care of it. He tried to scratch the outside of his jeans and when that didn't work, he took to slapping the front of his pants. I couldn't stop laughing at this shameless show. Perhaps it would have been a good time to inform him of socially acceptable actions, but I left that lesson for the next time. No one seemed to be offended by him, so we got a free pass on bad etiquette for the day.
3. Eli sometimes has a tendency to misinterpret things through his little "Eli lens". Sometimes he hears a word and thinks it is something else. For example, this week one of us used the word "buster", like "hey buster, what do you think you are doing?" He laughed and told us that his preschool teacher uses that word too. He wouldn't stop laughing about it. Then when he repeated it, I realized why. He believed we are all saying "Bus Turd".
4. On Monday, I was at my aunt's house while she was having a TV delivered and she was at work. While I was standing there observing the setup, I heard (and felt) a little business happening in Marina's pants. I thought I would wait to change her until after the delivery man left, but then my hand felt something on her back. She was wearing a really thick sleeper so I couldn't' be sure what exactly was going on. I went to the other room and peeled back the layers of her clothing to find an extreme poop explosion. The sheer force behind the BM had driven it all the way up to her shoulders! It was even under her armpits. This is the kind of diaper change that you just stick your kid in the bath right after. But, unfortunately, there was no possibility of this at the time. Also unfortunate was that I had no wipes with me. I had to use about 50 wet paper towels to clean her up. Then there was the impossible task of pulling her body suit over her head without smearing poop in her hair and on her face. I had to do all of this with lightning speed because the delivery man was finishing up his task and I didn't want to come out with a poop-smeared baby and soiled hands. Luckily I had just been to the store and picked up a new pack of clothes for her or she would have gone home wrapped up in a blanket. I am not always the most prepared mom. But I like to put myself in tough situations to test my ingenuity.
So, it has been a week filled with absurdities, poop and pain, but really, is that anything out of the ordinary in my life? I think not.
Wednesday, November 18, 2009
Thursday, November 12, 2009
Mom's the Bomb
Someone asked me this week what I do all day...
Lately, as the weather has gotten colder and somehow our money seems to be evaporating, we have been confined to the house a lot. Every day I get up and make Eli's breakfast with one hand while holding Marina in the other. I have to lob several threats at Eli in response to his daily protests to the menu. I've found that he will eat just about anything if I add raisins to it (not to mention a boost in his regularity).
I have been getting antsy being in the house all day but if we go out, we will encounter one of two things: money spending, or communicable viruses. I have been wanting to take the kids to the Children's Museum lately, but then I think about all the sick kids running around and snotting on everything, so I change my mind and drag them to the grocery store with me. Poor Eli's exciting adventures are limited to the front of a cart. Even when he sits at the table to color and draw, he pretends he's writing grocery lists for me. He will name all the things we thinks we need and make little marks on the paper that he believes are letters.
On the way to Sam's Club today, I heard the sound of the door handle right behind me and realize that Eli has partially opened the back door from his car seat. I immediately started screaming like a lunatic and locked the door so it won't open the rest of the way. He and I then discussed the dangers of opening the door and how he most certainly would fall out of the car and get run over by a truck. It might be time to engage the child safety lock in the door. But what happens if we get trapped under water and need to open the door from the inside? I'll have to give this some thought.
Twice a week Eli goes to preschool. Each day, we have exactly the same scenario. I have to wake him up. He is tired and crabby about being woken up. He tells me he doesn't want to go to school or eat breakfast. He doesn't want anyone else to go to school either and no one can play with toys. It seems that if he is miserable, everyone else should be too. Then he pulls it together a little bit and eats his breakfast. Finally by the time we need to leave, he's totally on board with school. He tells me he is going to be obedient and listen to his teachers this time. Hours later when I pick him up and he tells me about the snacks he ate and the games they played. I ask him if he got in trouble. No, he tells me. Then a few minutes later will come something like this: "Lily (not me but his friend at school) was crying today." Why, I ask him. "Because I hit her in the head with the doctor's box." Hmmm. Or I hear a story from my sister (who works in the school) about witnessing Eli mowing down another kid with a shopping cart. When I asked him about why he did that, he simply told me that the kid was in the way of his cart. In Eli's defense, I have heard reports that his behavior is vastly improved as of late (probably just as long as people stay out of the way of the shopping cart or doctor's box).
So in answer to the question, my days are filled with kids, groceries, laundry, cats, and constant brain storming on effective ways to wrangle a toddler while being a milk machine and trying to find ways to keep an infant happy. So far today, since my kid didn't actually fall out of the car while I was driving and the baby didn't scream the entire time I was in the store, I give myself a C+ for the day.
Lately, as the weather has gotten colder and somehow our money seems to be evaporating, we have been confined to the house a lot. Every day I get up and make Eli's breakfast with one hand while holding Marina in the other. I have to lob several threats at Eli in response to his daily protests to the menu. I've found that he will eat just about anything if I add raisins to it (not to mention a boost in his regularity).
I have been getting antsy being in the house all day but if we go out, we will encounter one of two things: money spending, or communicable viruses. I have been wanting to take the kids to the Children's Museum lately, but then I think about all the sick kids running around and snotting on everything, so I change my mind and drag them to the grocery store with me. Poor Eli's exciting adventures are limited to the front of a cart. Even when he sits at the table to color and draw, he pretends he's writing grocery lists for me. He will name all the things we thinks we need and make little marks on the paper that he believes are letters.
On the way to Sam's Club today, I heard the sound of the door handle right behind me and realize that Eli has partially opened the back door from his car seat. I immediately started screaming like a lunatic and locked the door so it won't open the rest of the way. He and I then discussed the dangers of opening the door and how he most certainly would fall out of the car and get run over by a truck. It might be time to engage the child safety lock in the door. But what happens if we get trapped under water and need to open the door from the inside? I'll have to give this some thought.
Twice a week Eli goes to preschool. Each day, we have exactly the same scenario. I have to wake him up. He is tired and crabby about being woken up. He tells me he doesn't want to go to school or eat breakfast. He doesn't want anyone else to go to school either and no one can play with toys. It seems that if he is miserable, everyone else should be too. Then he pulls it together a little bit and eats his breakfast. Finally by the time we need to leave, he's totally on board with school. He tells me he is going to be obedient and listen to his teachers this time. Hours later when I pick him up and he tells me about the snacks he ate and the games they played. I ask him if he got in trouble. No, he tells me. Then a few minutes later will come something like this: "Lily (not me but his friend at school) was crying today." Why, I ask him. "Because I hit her in the head with the doctor's box." Hmmm. Or I hear a story from my sister (who works in the school) about witnessing Eli mowing down another kid with a shopping cart. When I asked him about why he did that, he simply told me that the kid was in the way of his cart. In Eli's defense, I have heard reports that his behavior is vastly improved as of late (probably just as long as people stay out of the way of the shopping cart or doctor's box).
So in answer to the question, my days are filled with kids, groceries, laundry, cats, and constant brain storming on effective ways to wrangle a toddler while being a milk machine and trying to find ways to keep an infant happy. So far today, since my kid didn't actually fall out of the car while I was driving and the baby didn't scream the entire time I was in the store, I give myself a C+ for the day.
Monday, November 9, 2009
Feeling Squirrelly
Last week, on a fateful trip to Eli's school, I ran over a defenseless squirrel. I saw it happening in slow motion and was completely unable to avoid it. I was crossing a small bridge on a two lane country road with a van passing me in the opposite direction when a squirrel, who was using poor judgment, ran in front of the van. When he narrowly escaped death there, he decided to push his luck and continue on in front of me. Like a bad game of Frogger, he got mashed. It was a grotesque thud. A quick glance in my rear view mirror confirmed his fate. As I saw the sickening carnage about to unfold, knowing that my options were to continue on over the squirrel or crash my car and kill the majority of my family, I let out a terrible scream and covered my mouth with my hand. My hand stayed there for the next two miles. From the backseat, came the question, "Mommy, what happened? Mommy, what's wrong?" over and over again.
When I was able to lift myself from the depression sufficiently, I answered him with, "I ran over a squirrel, Eli."
He digested this information for a moment then asked, "Why did you do that?" I explained to him that I had no choice and that the squirrel ran out in front of us and it was was unavoidable. I even had to tell him that the squirrel was dead when he inquired after his well-being.
Had I thought a bit more clearly at that point, I would have seen it was a bit unwise to tell my 3-year-old about killing a cute, furry animal in the road. Since that time, an incessant string of comments and questions regarding the squirrel have been verbalized. "That squirrel was probably going to find his family when you ran him over" or out of no where, "Remember when you ran over that squirrel?" Clearly, this is something he keeps thinking about and since it is on his mind, he keeps bringing it up again so it can be on my mind all the time too. "Maybe that squirrel should have watched where he was going so we wouldn't have to run him over."
Squirrel, we will not soon forget your tragic death or the circumstances that lead up to that moment. You will be mourned for many more days to come and there will no doubt be constant reminders of the life you could have been leading. Rest in peace on the side of the road.
When I was able to lift myself from the depression sufficiently, I answered him with, "I ran over a squirrel, Eli."
He digested this information for a moment then asked, "Why did you do that?" I explained to him that I had no choice and that the squirrel ran out in front of us and it was was unavoidable. I even had to tell him that the squirrel was dead when he inquired after his well-being.
Had I thought a bit more clearly at that point, I would have seen it was a bit unwise to tell my 3-year-old about killing a cute, furry animal in the road. Since that time, an incessant string of comments and questions regarding the squirrel have been verbalized. "That squirrel was probably going to find his family when you ran him over" or out of no where, "Remember when you ran over that squirrel?" Clearly, this is something he keeps thinking about and since it is on his mind, he keeps bringing it up again so it can be on my mind all the time too. "Maybe that squirrel should have watched where he was going so we wouldn't have to run him over."
Squirrel, we will not soon forget your tragic death or the circumstances that lead up to that moment. You will be mourned for many more days to come and there will no doubt be constant reminders of the life you could have been leading. Rest in peace on the side of the road.
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