Mixed Nuts

If you ever start to think that you have issues, you can comfort yourself by saying, "At least I'm not as nuts as Lily." What is so nuts about me you ask (or maybe you don't even have to ask...)?

Nuts is calling the pediatrician at 3 am when your child has his third fever in 6 weeks and telling him you think your kid might have cancer.

Nuts is refusing to believe your eyes could possibly have gotten this bad and that the optometrist must have your prescription wrong (I'm firm on this one).

Nuts is constantly planning an escape route for you and your kids (and maybe cats, depending on the day) should an intruder enter your house (I also have a scenario for fire).

Nuts is honestly believing the people I love are the best at everything and everyone else is junky.

Nuts is refusing to buy a mini-van for two kids because it will make me feel too old and ridiculous. I am set on my Honda Civic. So what if we cannot transport anyone else in our car with us.

And finally (though I could go on forever), nuts is years of buying hair products that I believe will do a miraculous transformation of my hair where I can wash it and have it dry stick-straight without frizz. I could pay for plastic surgery with all the money I have spent on this.

So, yes, I might be a little (or a lot) nuts and a slight hypochondriac but at least I can come to grips and embrace it. As for the people around me, they might struggle a bit more with it (:

Sleepless in Central Illinois

Just when I think I am becoming a [relatively] successful mother of two, the wheels fall off and it turns out that it's not going exactly as I'd like. Last week, I was excited that we had seemingly come through the major difficulties of an infant and toddler; things were looking up. Marina was sleeping through the night and Eli was sleeping and napping without the need of a pull-up (we won't mention his daytime behavior...). He had mastered the command of his bladder while sleeping. I vowed to never buy him another diaper or pull-up. It was a great feeling.

Then this week decided to sneak up and whack me in the head. Eli has peed his bed for the past three nights and during one nap. He comes in our room to let us know and apologizes in such a sad little way you feel sorry for him. But then it is loads and loads of laundry and a big mess. The worst part is that we used up all the pull-ups with no plans of replacement and now I have no back-up plan. It would be nice to scoot to the store with kids in tow today, except it is -17 outside. I'm not that mean, even if they both rob me of sleep regularly.

Marina has decided to revert back to her very early days and wake up at 2 and 3 am all week and just cry without any plans of stopping. Poor Mark has to work in the mornings and by that time I have completely lost my mind and have taken to beating Fat Linda who can't seem to leave me alone while I sleep.

So in an effort to regulate my kids and sanity, I'm going to take a week-long vacation to Mexico, where I will eat endless amounts of guacamole and drink pina coladas. When I get back, everything will be perfect and my children will be wonderful sleepers and extremely well-behaved. Let me just get my travel agent on the phone and see if they accept payments of knitted and crocheted goods.

Gas Chamber

If you are in a sparsely populated eye glasses store, you might want to think twice about passing gas, because a toddler that just happens to be nose-level with your butt might suddenly call out, "What's that smell!? I smell something and it smells like poop!"

Wacky Wiping

I've been realizing recently that I may have made a maternal misstep lately. Maybe I mentioned this in the past, but when we were potty training Eli, he would frequently leave little drops of pee everywhere after he was done going. He would drop a little on the rim of the toilet, maybe one on the floor and then one last drop would be absorbed by his underwear. In an effort to sanitize the situation, I taught him to tear off a square of toilet paper and clean up his mess when he was done. Somehow in all of this, he has become a boy that wipes himself. This I know is not a very masculine move and his daddy will have to break him of this little habit soon (not that I mind him cleaning off the toilet though). But today, instead of tearing off a square of toilet paper, he grabbed the entire roll (which is not attached to the wall because we are trash) and wiped himself with it. I was shocked so I scolded this brazen move. I told him that you have to tear off toilet paper, not just wipe with the whole roll and put it back. This forces me to beg the question, just how much has Eli done this when I'm not standing in the bathroom with him? And then probably an hour later, I go and blow my nose on that piece. Sick!

Even Eli's after-BM wiping could use some work. The other day, he tore off a long piece of toilet paper and while he was wiping, the other end of it was dragging through the toilet water. He tried to pull it out of the water when I stopped him and pointed out that slopping pee-pee-toilet-water all over the bathroom is not a great idea.

I'm just going to assume that while I'm not in the bathroom with him, he does everything right. I don't mind living in blissful ignorance. Just as long as what I blow my nose on isn't pre-moistened (yes, I know, maybe we should invest in Kleenex... but we are not classy people like that).

Loser Linda

Dear Fat Linda,

There is something a little touchy I need to talk to you about. It has come to my attention that every day, immediately after you finish your meals, you go after your brother, Lorenzo's, portion. This is not appreciated by any of us.

When we adopted you as a small kitten, you were so adorable. You appealed to our tender hearts. But, it wasn't long after that we realized you might have a problem. You are not vicious, though your nails occasionally do some damage. The issue is that it seems you will do anything for food. You often resort to manipulation and trickery to get us to feed you more than once. You dive between our feet to trip us, even on the stairs. You are only affectionate when it is getting close to feeding time. And I'm sorry to say that all this eating is resulting in a weight problem. Maybe I should rephrase that and be blunt, you have been fat since almost the minute you walked into our house. I have tried everything to remedy this. I switched you to diet food, I have tried to reason with you and suggest a healthy exercise regimen. Since all of this has failed, I am trying the tough love approach and directness.

Linda, you are obese. Licking up the run-off grease from the George Foreman grill is perpetuating the problem. And since you eat Lorenzo's food, the poor cat is getting frail and malnourished. What can I do to help you? Should I enroll you in a feline over-eaters program? Or should I just keep verbally abusing you daily and hope that I get through to you? Whatever the case, having you so chunky reflects poorly on me as an owner. People believe I must be too indulgent with you or that I am a careless parent. So, please for your sake, for my sake, quit being such a fatso and eating every one's food. Try to control yourself and maybe run around every now and then instead of lying on our bed all day. It will do you well.

Most affectionately,

Lily