The other day I was having a conversation with a good friend about a guy that she met that she wasn't quite sure if she was interested in, but wasn't getting adequate attention from the guy she was interested in. I know we've all been there, because man or women, the Midsummer Night's Dream scenario of girl loves guy, who loves another girl, who in turn loves another guy, who in turn, and so on and so on, is a reality, not just a comedy created by William Shakespeare. It's something we've all been victims of in the past and possibly in our present and future to. We see how wonderful a potential relationship with a person is, and how happy we would make them, but it often seems as if that person is not on the same page as we are, and no matter how hard you try (Look under 311 in my ITunes or at the WVU gear in my dresser drawer), you can't get them to just get with the program and comply with what you want. This is the common human problem of we want what we can't have. Hash tag it #humanproblems, tweet it, what have you, but we are all put in this situation at some point in our lives. Accepting the rejection of not always getting the "man or woman of your dreams" can be especially hard. Needless to say I have been there more times than I would care to admit in the last several years. On the plus side I really enjoy the band 311 AND I like WVU sports now. Everything happens for a reason I suppose.
Back to the point of my story. When listening to my friend talk I decided it was time to enlighten her to the term "tissue". What is a tissue you may ask? I will tell you. Think about what you do with a tissue. Take it out of the box, blow your nose in it, and toss it in the trash when your done. A tissue is the man that makes you feel special when the one your really into won't. He's the man that is OK with taking you out to dinner and not getting any (or at least if he's not OK he's too polite to admit it), or the man that can tell you your beautiful; even though it may not come from the man that your hot all over about, it still feels nice to be appreciated. You can even use them for a little wham bam thank you ma'am, if you so desire and do it safely. It fulfills the natural urges we have as humans to feel loved, to feel desired, and special. This may sound harsh, but men do it to women all the time. After a year and a half of feeling bad about myself. Angry and resentful that my children's dad moved on to someone else, and pissed off at the man after him who decided he didn't want my kids and I in his life, I decided I had had enough. I had had enough of men taking advantage of my feelings for them and making me feel bad about myself. This point of this is, is no one can make you feel anyway. Someone can tell you your ugly, and you feel bad, but they didn't make you feel bad. You feel bad because you got rejected and you are allowing someone else to control and manipulate how you feel. I came to the conclusion that enough was enough. Happiness is in ones own control. A relationship with another person cannot work if you aren't happy with yourself. Around this time I met a guy we shall call Irish. He took me to lunch and soon made it very clear that he wasn't trying to date, and blatantly said "I just want to F***". I explained that this was not what I was looking for, and if this was what he wanted, I wasn't his girl so lose my number. He continued to text me and let me know how attracted he was to me. I finally caved and after a couple of dates where he was getting no where. He asked to come down for dinner and to talk. He did the whole song and dance about "I decided I really like you", "lets talk about things and see where they go". I relented and (unsuccessfully) put my kids to bed and told him to come down. I called him when I would say he was probably right around the corner to inform him my kids were still awake. At this point he informed me he had "no interest in my kids and just wanted to F***". At that, I calmly told him to "F*** off", and informed him that we wanted different things and hung up on him. Needless to say, I still occasionally hear from him. I normally have taken the asshole stance and talk about other men to him and I can tell that just burns him up. It felt good to walk away from the situation on top for once, rather than feeling rejected and hurt. I decided that this was a good way to be, and am happy to say I haven't really been all that upset over a man ever since. Hence, the term tissue was born. Would I do this to a decent, kind, man? No. But as far as I'm concerned playing stupid games is just that, stupid. If I happen to come across a jerk who thinks he has the upper hand, can play games, and can get what he wants and bounce, I say play ball. At that point he can buy me dinner, he can take me on dates, and shower me with complimentary texts, but that's all he's going to do. Sometimes in life one chance is all you have and in relationships this should be true I think. I adore the old saying, "Fool me once, shame on you. Fool you twice, shame on me". That, unfortunately, does not stop me from falling time and time again for two men that have been in my life, but it does allow me to keep some pride intact and now show just how worked up a select couple of men in my life can get me. I suppose such is life and dating.
I reminded my friend at this point that she wasn't having her needs fulfilled where she wanted them fulfilled, so even if she wasn't feeling like this guy was "the one", it couldn't hurt to get to know him a little better, and possibly see him again if she so desired. After educating her about the benefits of a tissue, she actually gave it another shot and things are going well. Sometimes a tissue becomes a handkerchief I suppose and sticks around longer, then just the tissue sitting in the car cup holder that eventually gets thrown away. I guess time will tell for my friend. On that note, it is wayyy past my bed time. So good night readers!
Tuesday, June 4, 2013
Monday, June 3, 2013
Whose to Blame?
Tonight I am going to focus on a topic that has absolutely nothing to do with me. Well, minus the single mom thing, which is common in the group of people that I am about to talk about. My focus for this post will be on the teen mom. Many would blame shows like "Sixteen and Pregnant", or "Teen Mom" for encouraging young girls to become mom's early. To this I would say, if your stupid enough to think being sixteen and getting knocked up, is a guarantee to getting your newly stretch marked ass on TV, you would deserve what you get for being so dumb. Unfortunately, you would also then be responsible for raising human life, which is a huge responsibility and scary that someone that thinks making themselves a part of the teen mom statistic is a good idea, would be taking on. As a much older single mother I find that it is difficult, stressful, and overwhelming. This is after I have already had time to party, be carefree, and accomplish some of the things that I wanted to before having children. I could not imagine not having time to get my wild side out before settling down to be a parent. That's just the kid part. Add on trying to earn a higher degree, jump through the hoops of the Board of Professional Counselors and Therapists, relationship drama, baby daddy drama and the hurt and resentments left behind, and a tight and sometimes impossible financial situation, and it's almost unmanageable at age 26. I could not imagine taking on a responsibility like this any early than age 23, three weeks away from 24, which was the age that I started my journey with my little boys.
When I look back at myself at age 16 I was a happy teenager, taking ballet, and participating in cheerleading, and hanging out with my friends. At age 16 sex was probably about the furthest thing from my mind. This past year I attended a football game at my high school, and was shocked by the tight, short little napkins the girls were trying to pass for clothes. I may sound old while saying this, but no one, and I mean no one, would have shown so much skin at a high school football game when I was in school. For one thing, it's too freaking cold during the last half of the football season to not wear any clothing. For another, when I was in school we had this thing called a dress code, and even wearing a tank top could get you sent home. From what I remember, it was jeans and t-shirts all the way in high school. From this experience and another experience I got when I worked in a high school in 2010, things certainly have changed. That aside, we tend to blame TV shows, poor parenting skills, lack of parental control, drug and alcohol abuse, and many other reasons for teen pregnancy. All of these reasons are defiantly valid. Let's of course not hold our teens be responsible for their actions. After all, the girls of teen mom 2 didn't impregnate our little angels now did they? Sorry let my put my jaded face away, (it tends to slip out after a long day at work). The real reason that I am writing this is that I have found the cause of teen pregnancy. Yes that's right. Yes it's TV, no it's not "Sixteen and Pregnant". Drum roll please........................................................
It's Barney! This sounds totally crazy, but this past Sunday morning I was watching an old episode of Barney on, On Demand with my kids. It's one that had a similar story line to an episode I remember seeing as a child. It had Baby Bop looking at a mommy holding a baby and saying "I want a baby!!!" and then proceeding to push around her teddy bear in a stroller, singing about playing, and eating when her teddy eats, and I'm thinking, hmmm what reality is this little green and pink fruitcake singing about? I ate standing over the kitchen counter that same morning, making pancakes and responding to "more cake, more cake", over and over again, since my sons can eat an entire batch of pancakes by themselves. Not that I really mind Barney, my kids love him and if my kids are entertained that's a positive in my book. That means the dishes can be washed, and I can sweep the floor, etc. So all hail to Baby Bob, Barney, and the whole crew. Do I honestly think that this show causes teen pregnancy? Absolutely not. I do however, think that it emphasizes starting from a young age, how little we inform our children about how difficult having children really is. It's not singing and running around all happy and energetic all the time. It's about sacrifice, being an adult even when you don't want to be. It's knowing that your desire to move to the beach for the summer is out of the question. It's being exhausted, sick, and stressed out, but putting on a happy face anyway. Being a parent is an amazing and incredible experience, but it is an experience that should wait until a person can bring their child into a stable, happy, secure emotionally and financially, home. I think that as someone who accidentally did not wait for this to happen, I can say a lot about how much easier this would have been with a mature, supportive, partner, and a lack of instability in the financial situation.
When I think about my experiences as a college educated women, I can see that I have many more options for myself to help me financially support my children. I see people with limited resources and limited education or skills on a daily basis, and as it is my job to help them improve their lives, this can often seem hopeless. I couldn't imagine tackling four years of college with a baby. I am already stressing out at the potential of two to three years of a Master's program! Being totally uneducated beyond high school, and no real professional experience can put a young, single parent behind the 8 ball to start. All in all I really didn't have much point to this post, besides that I think my observation of Baby Bop influencing teen pregnancy as somewhat amusing. Sometimes you just have to do things to amuse yourself, even if no one else is laughing. On that note, I'm debating the possibility of another post tonight, but it's about bedtime, so good night readers! Remember, only three more days until Friday!
When I look back at myself at age 16 I was a happy teenager, taking ballet, and participating in cheerleading, and hanging out with my friends. At age 16 sex was probably about the furthest thing from my mind. This past year I attended a football game at my high school, and was shocked by the tight, short little napkins the girls were trying to pass for clothes. I may sound old while saying this, but no one, and I mean no one, would have shown so much skin at a high school football game when I was in school. For one thing, it's too freaking cold during the last half of the football season to not wear any clothing. For another, when I was in school we had this thing called a dress code, and even wearing a tank top could get you sent home. From what I remember, it was jeans and t-shirts all the way in high school. From this experience and another experience I got when I worked in a high school in 2010, things certainly have changed. That aside, we tend to blame TV shows, poor parenting skills, lack of parental control, drug and alcohol abuse, and many other reasons for teen pregnancy. All of these reasons are defiantly valid. Let's of course not hold our teens be responsible for their actions. After all, the girls of teen mom 2 didn't impregnate our little angels now did they? Sorry let my put my jaded face away, (it tends to slip out after a long day at work). The real reason that I am writing this is that I have found the cause of teen pregnancy. Yes that's right. Yes it's TV, no it's not "Sixteen and Pregnant". Drum roll please........................................................
It's Barney! This sounds totally crazy, but this past Sunday morning I was watching an old episode of Barney on, On Demand with my kids. It's one that had a similar story line to an episode I remember seeing as a child. It had Baby Bop looking at a mommy holding a baby and saying "I want a baby!!!" and then proceeding to push around her teddy bear in a stroller, singing about playing, and eating when her teddy eats, and I'm thinking, hmmm what reality is this little green and pink fruitcake singing about? I ate standing over the kitchen counter that same morning, making pancakes and responding to "more cake, more cake", over and over again, since my sons can eat an entire batch of pancakes by themselves. Not that I really mind Barney, my kids love him and if my kids are entertained that's a positive in my book. That means the dishes can be washed, and I can sweep the floor, etc. So all hail to Baby Bob, Barney, and the whole crew. Do I honestly think that this show causes teen pregnancy? Absolutely not. I do however, think that it emphasizes starting from a young age, how little we inform our children about how difficult having children really is. It's not singing and running around all happy and energetic all the time. It's about sacrifice, being an adult even when you don't want to be. It's knowing that your desire to move to the beach for the summer is out of the question. It's being exhausted, sick, and stressed out, but putting on a happy face anyway. Being a parent is an amazing and incredible experience, but it is an experience that should wait until a person can bring their child into a stable, happy, secure emotionally and financially, home. I think that as someone who accidentally did not wait for this to happen, I can say a lot about how much easier this would have been with a mature, supportive, partner, and a lack of instability in the financial situation.
When I think about my experiences as a college educated women, I can see that I have many more options for myself to help me financially support my children. I see people with limited resources and limited education or skills on a daily basis, and as it is my job to help them improve their lives, this can often seem hopeless. I couldn't imagine tackling four years of college with a baby. I am already stressing out at the potential of two to three years of a Master's program! Being totally uneducated beyond high school, and no real professional experience can put a young, single parent behind the 8 ball to start. All in all I really didn't have much point to this post, besides that I think my observation of Baby Bop influencing teen pregnancy as somewhat amusing. Sometimes you just have to do things to amuse yourself, even if no one else is laughing. On that note, I'm debating the possibility of another post tonight, but it's about bedtime, so good night readers! Remember, only three more days until Friday!
Tuesday, May 28, 2013
To Plop or Not to Plop?
As I sit here typing this I can hear the sounds of "MOM!!! , MOM!!!, MOM!!!!," and I have the urge to yell "shut the eff up", out of my open window. No, I am not saying yell that at my children, because my children have been in bed for over an hour. I am talking about the five year old, screaming down the street to her mother, who is apparently ignoring her as well. I feel bad for the kid, but I really don't want to hear the word "mom", come out of anyone under the age of 25's mouth after my two little monstrosities that I gave birth to are soundly tucked between the sheets for the evening. I also have the urge to go down the street and ask the mom why her five year old is screaming outside my window at 9 pm on a school night, or any night for that matter. I am not claiming to be the best parent ever, but Alex and Daniel will sure as hell never be outside, on a street, and screaming "MOM!!!" over and again at 9 pm at age five. For that matter they will know better than to disturb the whole neighborhood period. This will just you know, be forgotten when they are partaking in the debauchery that is being a college student in 16 or so years. As long as they don't knock anyone up, use drugs, get arrested, or drink enough alcohol that I have to drive or fly to wherever they are located and pay for alcohol citations or get them out of the hospital, we're good. After all, although I hope my children don't do the same stupid things that their father and I did in college, it's college and freedom from mom and dad for the first time in their lives, and I fully know that a product of two Frostburg State University graduates will not disappoint. Anyway, I got a little distracted thinking of my two little guys being college students and I think I got a little green at the thought, but my point to this was, I want to go ask the mom why she's not bathing her child, putting her in bed, reading her stories, you know, doing mom things. Sadly enough I don't have to ask why. I already know why. It's a shame that some women allow men and substances to come before their kids.
That however, was not the point of this story. I have not written in awhile. This is in part to not really having anything to say, and also being too tired to come up with anything that anyone would want to read. My first several posts were amusing and I have been struggling to find amusing things to write about, since most of my life exists at my job, which is something that I cannot discuss in this blog, even though it does have some amusing moments. I can promise some good material in the near future, as my "baby daddy" and I are taking our boys on a vacation to visit family and friends in North Carolina next month, and needless to say I am sure that there will be some interesting stories that will come out of spending 17 hours total in an enclosed space with two, two year old boys for that long. Hopefully no one gets too carried away and skips North Carolina and heads to the everglades to feed one or more of the occupants of the car to an alligator! Long drive aside, I am hoping for a nice visit with loved ones, and a fun visit to the Aquarium and the Children's Museum, maybe even the Serpentarium, provided mommy decides her dreams won't be too scary after visiting a bunch of deadly snakes and other reptiles. There will be more to come on this topic. I would like to continue this post with my first experience with a seriously bloody nose due to injury with Daniel.
My sons love bath time. I think that they would live in the bathtub, provided there was a TV playing a nonstop, alternating roll of Thomas and Friends, Barney, Peter Rabbit, and The Pajanimals, and a never ending supply of fruit snacks and "appa juic", as they put it. Their newest trick is quite possibly one of the things that pushes me from slightly annoyed to just straight pissed. They stand up and then throw their bodies back down into the water, which sends a tidal wave of water over the edge of the tub and onto the floor. You know, the floor that not only is a pain to clean up, but is also not owned by me, so if it gets warped and water damaged, I have to pay to replace it. So, as you may imagine, I am picky about the floor. It's also unsafe and could and did as Daniel discovered, cause a pretty substantial injury. They also like to take mouthfuls of bath water (YUCK!) and spit it all over my floor. Still irritating, but not quite as maddening as the tidal wave that comes over the edge when they plop down in the water. I warned Daniel about 10 times to stop on this past Sunday evening. As I reached over to drain the water as a consequence for plopping from both kids, he plopped down and hit his nose and face on the edge of the tub. His bottom teeth went into his lip and is still swollen two days later. His poor little nose began to bleed everywhere. It was on my shirt, on the floor in little puddles, all over him, and he was freaked out as was I. I placed a call to a nurse friend three times and then called my mom, who so helpfully told me to call my nurse friend, who wasn't answering.
My friend called me back about this time and calmed me down. I am pretty good with an injured child as far as staying calm, but the amount of blood pouring from my child's face was seriously getting me upset. To make the story shorter Daniel was fine. He is still a little swollen in the nose, but his swollen lip is starting to subside a bit. During Monday's bath he was extremely cautious. I thought maybe he learned. What do my readers think? If you said he did not learn, you would be correct. Tonight he was right back to plopping down, as if his nose still isn't swollen, and he wasn't saying "mommy, my mouth hurt", just yesterday. (I was sad he was in pain, even if it was by his own doing, but that just sounded so cute coming out of his mouth). Apparently the lasting effects were not all that memorable, and a lesson was not learned. He was right back to all his normal shenanigans tonight, spitting milk at dinner and throwing his plate at me when I took that milk, saying "bye mommy", and walking out the front door, when I'm only wearing a pair of boy short undies and a tank top with no bra, and making me chase him through the neighborhood. (I may eventually learn to keep full pants and a bra on at home), and of course plopping in the tub. I seem to have hit a difficult patch with my boys, especially Daniel at this point, but at the end of the day having them tell me they love me and snuggling with me at the end of the night makes all the hard work worth it to have the unconditional love of my boys. (Conditional as Aunt Paula puts it when they only want to snuggle with you if you have food or drinks in your hand). (Apparently this "terrible two" stuff only gets worse at three)???? Until next time.
Erica
That however, was not the point of this story. I have not written in awhile. This is in part to not really having anything to say, and also being too tired to come up with anything that anyone would want to read. My first several posts were amusing and I have been struggling to find amusing things to write about, since most of my life exists at my job, which is something that I cannot discuss in this blog, even though it does have some amusing moments. I can promise some good material in the near future, as my "baby daddy" and I are taking our boys on a vacation to visit family and friends in North Carolina next month, and needless to say I am sure that there will be some interesting stories that will come out of spending 17 hours total in an enclosed space with two, two year old boys for that long. Hopefully no one gets too carried away and skips North Carolina and heads to the everglades to feed one or more of the occupants of the car to an alligator! Long drive aside, I am hoping for a nice visit with loved ones, and a fun visit to the Aquarium and the Children's Museum, maybe even the Serpentarium, provided mommy decides her dreams won't be too scary after visiting a bunch of deadly snakes and other reptiles. There will be more to come on this topic. I would like to continue this post with my first experience with a seriously bloody nose due to injury with Daniel.
My sons love bath time. I think that they would live in the bathtub, provided there was a TV playing a nonstop, alternating roll of Thomas and Friends, Barney, Peter Rabbit, and The Pajanimals, and a never ending supply of fruit snacks and "appa juic", as they put it. Their newest trick is quite possibly one of the things that pushes me from slightly annoyed to just straight pissed. They stand up and then throw their bodies back down into the water, which sends a tidal wave of water over the edge of the tub and onto the floor. You know, the floor that not only is a pain to clean up, but is also not owned by me, so if it gets warped and water damaged, I have to pay to replace it. So, as you may imagine, I am picky about the floor. It's also unsafe and could and did as Daniel discovered, cause a pretty substantial injury. They also like to take mouthfuls of bath water (YUCK!) and spit it all over my floor. Still irritating, but not quite as maddening as the tidal wave that comes over the edge when they plop down in the water. I warned Daniel about 10 times to stop on this past Sunday evening. As I reached over to drain the water as a consequence for plopping from both kids, he plopped down and hit his nose and face on the edge of the tub. His bottom teeth went into his lip and is still swollen two days later. His poor little nose began to bleed everywhere. It was on my shirt, on the floor in little puddles, all over him, and he was freaked out as was I. I placed a call to a nurse friend three times and then called my mom, who so helpfully told me to call my nurse friend, who wasn't answering.
My friend called me back about this time and calmed me down. I am pretty good with an injured child as far as staying calm, but the amount of blood pouring from my child's face was seriously getting me upset. To make the story shorter Daniel was fine. He is still a little swollen in the nose, but his swollen lip is starting to subside a bit. During Monday's bath he was extremely cautious. I thought maybe he learned. What do my readers think? If you said he did not learn, you would be correct. Tonight he was right back to plopping down, as if his nose still isn't swollen, and he wasn't saying "mommy, my mouth hurt", just yesterday. (I was sad he was in pain, even if it was by his own doing, but that just sounded so cute coming out of his mouth). Apparently the lasting effects were not all that memorable, and a lesson was not learned. He was right back to all his normal shenanigans tonight, spitting milk at dinner and throwing his plate at me when I took that milk, saying "bye mommy", and walking out the front door, when I'm only wearing a pair of boy short undies and a tank top with no bra, and making me chase him through the neighborhood. (I may eventually learn to keep full pants and a bra on at home), and of course plopping in the tub. I seem to have hit a difficult patch with my boys, especially Daniel at this point, but at the end of the day having them tell me they love me and snuggling with me at the end of the night makes all the hard work worth it to have the unconditional love of my boys. (Conditional as Aunt Paula puts it when they only want to snuggle with you if you have food or drinks in your hand). (Apparently this "terrible two" stuff only gets worse at three)???? Until next time.
Erica
Sunday, May 19, 2013
Nightmare on My Street
This has been a nightmare of an afternoon with my boys. We started off doing pretty well this morning. Breakfast of eggs and fruit, baths, and getting dressed for church. We went to church and both of my kids were pretty sweet and well behaved. Now I suppose I should just be grateful for their fairly decent behavior in public, but man I had no idea what was in store for me this evening. Both boys fell asleep on the car ride home from church and as a bonus I was able to get both kids in bed from the car without waking them up. Even better. Then, better yet, I was able to get a three hour nap myself, as this was how long they napped. I figured that they would be pretty well rested and ready for a nice relaxing evening at home. OMG I was wrong. The following is a real and true account of the shit storm (this is a fairly literal statement, so if you are sensitive to slightly inappropriate and graphic stories turn back now), that hit my home this evening. In the course of the evening I had to call my mom twice to keep my cool, carry on, and not burst into tears, instead of picking up the pieces and cleaning up the mess. I try hard to deal with my kids on my own, but occasionally you gotta pull the red "help me" card and call someone. Here is an account of the events leading up to the red card pulling:
At around 5 pm this evening I heard my boys waking up from their extended nap and giggling to each other. I smiled, thinking it was a good sign that they slept three hours and woke up happy. I got myself out of bed and walked down the hall to their room. As I opened the door I got hit right in the face with...a poopy pull up...No just kidding, actually what I got hit with was a preverbal slap in the face with an awful smell. If you've read any of my previous blog posts you may have an idea of where this is going. I walked into poop smeared from one end of the crib to the other. Alex's brand new sneakers that I bought him yesterday were covered in poop, which mad me so angry I could barely see straight. Both kids, the cloth bed rails were covered, all the bedding was covered in Alex's bed. I stripped his bed down, put the dirty stuff in the wash, resisted the urge to cry, cleaned up both kids and prepared to go cook dinner. I was sick this whole time, some sort of sinus thing that has led to me being dizzy all day, to the point where I ran into a wall when I got out of bed this morning. This being the case, I decided leftover pizza it would be for dinner and had gotten it out of the refrigerator and put it on the counter before I walked into the kids room. As I was stripping the beds Daniel and Alex pulled the pizza down on the floor and Alex helped himself. I had started to eat a piece right before I walked into my son's room and had put it on the counter next to the other pieces. Daniel chose that piece. I tried to give him a new piece of his own and get them in their booster chairs, but that was apparently not freaking good enough, and Daniel chucked the new piece of pizza at me in favor of eating the one that I had started. In the grand scheme of things did it really matter? No, not at all, but I was not feeling well, therefore still tired, had just had to clean a bed and two kids up from their earlier finger painting efforts. I guess I may have been feeling just a wee bit possessive over my pizza and pissed off that I spent money on new sneakers for them to be covered in feces the next day. Because I was upset do you think that we could have just ended this bad note and moved on to more positive happy moments? No, because that isn't what happens when you have kids. I have to be in tears before Alex and Daniel will stop laughing at me when I am trying to provide discipline or punishment for negative behavior. Time out is only marginally effective. This was when the first phone call to my mom occurred.
After I got off the phone I was feeling a tiny bit better and more calm. At this point I was trying to load the dirty bedding into the washer and I suddenly heard the front screen door slam and the sounds of my sons laughter and screams of "hi, hi, hi" coming from the outside of the house. Not exactly what you want to hear when your inside your house and they are outside your house. I put the sheets down and ran outside to find them playing on the lawn mower and saying hi to the little boy that lives across the street. I drug them kicking and screaming into the house (well I wanted to drag them), instead I took their hands and led them inside. I explained that they would not be playing outside due to the wet grass from the rain the night before, and the poop smearing incident from naptime. They screamed, they yelled, they got mad, but they moved on as kids do. I put a movie on since I was still feeling sick and we sat down to watch it. Alex got up to play in his ball pit (we have a three room play area and ball bit with 200 balls in our living room, thanks granny!). I did not think anything of this, as they like this toy a lot and it is one of their favorite places to play. All the while Daniel (who was the culprit in the previous incident, I could tell by the evidence he left behind on his bottom when I cleaned him up), was sitting on my lap watching "Bolt". Which is an incredibly cute movie btw. I heard Alex saying "poop, poop". All I could think about at this time was "please no, wtf, no, no, no, please god no". (You probably shouldn't use the acronym for a curse word when praying, but I was a little beyond that). I put Daniel down, walked over to the pit, and low and behold what did I find? You got it. Mushy, smelly, runny, poop all over the inside of the ball pit and all over the balls. This was when the second phone call happened. My mom talked me through it and talked to me as I was wiping down the balls and the fabric inside the ball pit. Daniel decided to take it one step further and start pulling multiple wipes out of the package and throwing them around. After spending $130 on baby supplies and household supplies last week and another $95 last week on summer clothes, than almost another $130 on supplies between Friday and Saturday of this weekend, I was feeling pretty bitter about wasting things at this point. I took the wipes from him and Alex actually began to help me clean the balls up. I was totally about this until he started to try to eat the wipes covered in poo. I guess it's sorta like a chocolate covered pretzel minus the pretzel?
I was talking to my mom all the while and started to get awful stomach cramps myself. I ran to the bathroom to take care of my own personal issues and of course my children followed me. Daniel started to take his pull up off and I quickly noticed that he pooped yet again. I asked Alex to bring me a wipe, which he actually did. I guess he figured it was time to start kissing up! My kids actually can be pretty good helpers when they choose to be. I cleaned up Daniel while sitting on the toilet myself. Alex started to push me and yelled at me to "get off". He did this several times, and I told him that I could not move. He continued to push for another minute or two before finally grabbing his little man part and peeing on the floor in front of me, all over my shorts, (which I had removed for more mobility while changing a dirty pull up and meeting my own needs), as well as all over my feet. I told my mom I had to go. (Yes my poor mother went to the bathroom with the boys and I via the phone). She told me to get off the phone and take care of the situation at hand, which I did. She later sent me three emails that report that "feces fun" as they put it is normal around potty training time. (WTF???). I'm glad this may be normal, but eww, it's gross, it's messy, and defiantly not something I read about in "What to Expect When You're Expecting". (Maybe they cover that in the Toddler Years What to Expect. I wouldn't know since I didn't buy it). I put both kids in the bath tub at this time, which was probably what they wanted in the first place. This seemed to settle them down.
We then journeyed out to the kitchen to finally eat dinner, which consisted of grapes and cold pizza. The desire and gumption to heat up the pizza was totally gone at this point. My kids love cold pizza, so this worked well for all of us. The boys ate their food, while yelling "stink bug, STINK BUG", at the stink bug sitting in the corner of the kitchen. (Which was actually a piece of food they threw on the floor at an earlier time). I ignored this and washed the dishes while they ate. I think that tonight's behavior would have been hard and frustrating either way, but probably would not have brought me to tears if I was feeling a little bit better. The night was almost over at this point and I put the sheets back on Alex's bed and discovered a puddle of pee drying into Daniel's sheet when I moved his blankets. I stripped his bed, and put a clean sheet on it, because at that point I had no energy left to get mad and what else can you do? I then brushed their teeth and put them in bed, where they proceeded to scream and cry and talk to each other for another thirty five minutes. I was typing this and praying that I won't walk into a mess in the morning. I guess that's the day in the life of a single parent with two kids. At the end of the day I still love my babies, but I did send an Facebook post to their godmother offering to gift her my kids. She responded with, "you would miss them by tomorrow". She's right I would. I will already hate having to leave them to go to work in the morning. I know it. I think on that note I am going to turn in as it is late. Good night readers!
Erica
At around 5 pm this evening I heard my boys waking up from their extended nap and giggling to each other. I smiled, thinking it was a good sign that they slept three hours and woke up happy. I got myself out of bed and walked down the hall to their room. As I opened the door I got hit right in the face with...a poopy pull up...No just kidding, actually what I got hit with was a preverbal slap in the face with an awful smell. If you've read any of my previous blog posts you may have an idea of where this is going. I walked into poop smeared from one end of the crib to the other. Alex's brand new sneakers that I bought him yesterday were covered in poop, which mad me so angry I could barely see straight. Both kids, the cloth bed rails were covered, all the bedding was covered in Alex's bed. I stripped his bed down, put the dirty stuff in the wash, resisted the urge to cry, cleaned up both kids and prepared to go cook dinner. I was sick this whole time, some sort of sinus thing that has led to me being dizzy all day, to the point where I ran into a wall when I got out of bed this morning. This being the case, I decided leftover pizza it would be for dinner and had gotten it out of the refrigerator and put it on the counter before I walked into the kids room. As I was stripping the beds Daniel and Alex pulled the pizza down on the floor and Alex helped himself. I had started to eat a piece right before I walked into my son's room and had put it on the counter next to the other pieces. Daniel chose that piece. I tried to give him a new piece of his own and get them in their booster chairs, but that was apparently not freaking good enough, and Daniel chucked the new piece of pizza at me in favor of eating the one that I had started. In the grand scheme of things did it really matter? No, not at all, but I was not feeling well, therefore still tired, had just had to clean a bed and two kids up from their earlier finger painting efforts. I guess I may have been feeling just a wee bit possessive over my pizza and pissed off that I spent money on new sneakers for them to be covered in feces the next day. Because I was upset do you think that we could have just ended this bad note and moved on to more positive happy moments? No, because that isn't what happens when you have kids. I have to be in tears before Alex and Daniel will stop laughing at me when I am trying to provide discipline or punishment for negative behavior. Time out is only marginally effective. This was when the first phone call to my mom occurred.
After I got off the phone I was feeling a tiny bit better and more calm. At this point I was trying to load the dirty bedding into the washer and I suddenly heard the front screen door slam and the sounds of my sons laughter and screams of "hi, hi, hi" coming from the outside of the house. Not exactly what you want to hear when your inside your house and they are outside your house. I put the sheets down and ran outside to find them playing on the lawn mower and saying hi to the little boy that lives across the street. I drug them kicking and screaming into the house (well I wanted to drag them), instead I took their hands and led them inside. I explained that they would not be playing outside due to the wet grass from the rain the night before, and the poop smearing incident from naptime. They screamed, they yelled, they got mad, but they moved on as kids do. I put a movie on since I was still feeling sick and we sat down to watch it. Alex got up to play in his ball pit (we have a three room play area and ball bit with 200 balls in our living room, thanks granny!). I did not think anything of this, as they like this toy a lot and it is one of their favorite places to play. All the while Daniel (who was the culprit in the previous incident, I could tell by the evidence he left behind on his bottom when I cleaned him up), was sitting on my lap watching "Bolt". Which is an incredibly cute movie btw. I heard Alex saying "poop, poop". All I could think about at this time was "please no, wtf, no, no, no, please god no". (You probably shouldn't use the acronym for a curse word when praying, but I was a little beyond that). I put Daniel down, walked over to the pit, and low and behold what did I find? You got it. Mushy, smelly, runny, poop all over the inside of the ball pit and all over the balls. This was when the second phone call happened. My mom talked me through it and talked to me as I was wiping down the balls and the fabric inside the ball pit. Daniel decided to take it one step further and start pulling multiple wipes out of the package and throwing them around. After spending $130 on baby supplies and household supplies last week and another $95 last week on summer clothes, than almost another $130 on supplies between Friday and Saturday of this weekend, I was feeling pretty bitter about wasting things at this point. I took the wipes from him and Alex actually began to help me clean the balls up. I was totally about this until he started to try to eat the wipes covered in poo. I guess it's sorta like a chocolate covered pretzel minus the pretzel?
I was talking to my mom all the while and started to get awful stomach cramps myself. I ran to the bathroom to take care of my own personal issues and of course my children followed me. Daniel started to take his pull up off and I quickly noticed that he pooped yet again. I asked Alex to bring me a wipe, which he actually did. I guess he figured it was time to start kissing up! My kids actually can be pretty good helpers when they choose to be. I cleaned up Daniel while sitting on the toilet myself. Alex started to push me and yelled at me to "get off". He did this several times, and I told him that I could not move. He continued to push for another minute or two before finally grabbing his little man part and peeing on the floor in front of me, all over my shorts, (which I had removed for more mobility while changing a dirty pull up and meeting my own needs), as well as all over my feet. I told my mom I had to go. (Yes my poor mother went to the bathroom with the boys and I via the phone). She told me to get off the phone and take care of the situation at hand, which I did. She later sent me three emails that report that "feces fun" as they put it is normal around potty training time. (WTF???). I'm glad this may be normal, but eww, it's gross, it's messy, and defiantly not something I read about in "What to Expect When You're Expecting". (Maybe they cover that in the Toddler Years What to Expect. I wouldn't know since I didn't buy it). I put both kids in the bath tub at this time, which was probably what they wanted in the first place. This seemed to settle them down.
We then journeyed out to the kitchen to finally eat dinner, which consisted of grapes and cold pizza. The desire and gumption to heat up the pizza was totally gone at this point. My kids love cold pizza, so this worked well for all of us. The boys ate their food, while yelling "stink bug, STINK BUG", at the stink bug sitting in the corner of the kitchen. (Which was actually a piece of food they threw on the floor at an earlier time). I ignored this and washed the dishes while they ate. I think that tonight's behavior would have been hard and frustrating either way, but probably would not have brought me to tears if I was feeling a little bit better. The night was almost over at this point and I put the sheets back on Alex's bed and discovered a puddle of pee drying into Daniel's sheet when I moved his blankets. I stripped his bed, and put a clean sheet on it, because at that point I had no energy left to get mad and what else can you do? I then brushed their teeth and put them in bed, where they proceeded to scream and cry and talk to each other for another thirty five minutes. I was typing this and praying that I won't walk into a mess in the morning. I guess that's the day in the life of a single parent with two kids. At the end of the day I still love my babies, but I did send an Facebook post to their godmother offering to gift her my kids. She responded with, "you would miss them by tomorrow". She's right I would. I will already hate having to leave them to go to work in the morning. I know it. I think on that note I am going to turn in as it is late. Good night readers!
Erica
Thursday, May 16, 2013
What do Moo Cows and Spilled Nail Polish have in Common?
This has been one of the best days I have had in a while. What made today so great? I will tell you. I took a mental health day from work (which was very much needed and help remove my pity party hat), took my boys to daycare a little late, so we had a nice relaxing morning, rather then the fluster cluck (stolen from a co worker, our office word for "cluster fuck"), that we normally encounter. After losing my keys and being later for work than normal the day before, I can't express how nice it was to take my time to cuddle my little men before getting them dressed for the day. After taking the boys to daycare, I went home, took a shower, caught up with an old friend via Facebook chat, and went about running my errands for the day. Because I was feeling well rested for once, rather than so tired I can barely see straight, I picked up the boys from daycare and we went to the playground near our house for about two hours and my babies made a few new friends and played down in the creek behind the playground equipment. It really hit me what big boys my sons are growing up to be. After scaring the crap out of me, both babies were able to scale the curved ladders that go up to the slides and tunnels on the playground equipment. Normally we take the stairs, but apparently we're too big to take the nice, safe way now! After playing on the playground, as I mentioned we walked down to the creek and I told Alex and Daniel they could play in the creek if they took off their shoes and socks. Daniel dutifully sat down, stripped off his shoes and socks and handed them to me. Alex of course does not do things the simple way. He gave me his shit-eating grin and to my, to be honest not surprise, took his left shoe off and chucked it into the creek, and cracked up as I chased the shoe down the creek (there was just enough current to carry off a tiny, size 5 sneaker). After retrieving the shoe, I sat next to my boys as they kicked and splashed with their feet in the water. Alex, once again my trouble maker, figured out that he could walk to the top of the incline next to the creek bank and slide himself down into the water. He's my child that always has to take it a step further. Daniel was sitting at my side, leaning on me at this point. As the cute little shorts (my favorite pair of course), were slowly turning from a dark blue denim to a dark, muddy, wet mess, Daniel decided it would be a good idea to join in. I allowed this to continue because I'm a sucker for their cute little laughter (except when they're in the process of flooding my bathroom) and shorts can be washed. I eventually was able to pull them away from the water and back to the playground. After about thirty seconds Daniel told me he wanted to go to the car. After loading them up, we decided to go down the street to get some ice cream at this farm that makes their own ice cream and has a petting zoo with farm animals and a wooden playground for kids. On a side note I want to put it out there, I normally do not let my kids have a lot of junk food, especially not before dinner. I was feeling generous, well rested, and happy tonight I suppose.
At the ice cream shop we ordered our food and once again Daniel was sitting quietly in a chair waiting for his ice cream. Also once again, Alex was running around like the crazy child he is. The teenager behind the counter commented on how cute they were. I may not have sounded as funny as I intended because she didn't laugh when I said "you don't have to take them home". I meant it as a joke of course, because I do love my little boys and I may be biased, but I think they are the most amazing children ever born. Yes I am one of those mother's, My children's shit doesn't stink (actually it does quite a bit), everything they do is amazing and wonderful, except when they are in full on destruction mode. I call that being a mom. Yes, I can still see the frustrating things they do, as all children do, like when Alex got out of the bathtub last night and hung his hose over my pillow and urinated on it, or when Daniel took his pants off and defecated in the ball pit, or when Alex threw pork fried rice all over the kitchen and I busted ass in it (ahh the good times!), or certainly not last or least the other night when Alex locked himself and my keys in the car, but for the most part my babies do no wrong in my eyes. I think it's ok for a mother to be like this, as long as she doesn't brush over the areas that need improvement and lead to a lifetime of not taking responsibility for personal actions and self-destruction, because a child is raised to be so sensitive to the world around them, that they can't handle any criticism or hard times. Hard times are part of life and it is a parent's job to equip their children for these times. Ok I'll get off my soap box now and get back to my story. As for the teenager, she shall see one day. In this area, probably sooner rather than later, although I would hope better for her.
Anyway, after we got our ice cream and sat outside on the playground and ate it, we headed over to the animals to say hi before leaving. We started at the miniature horses, or as Daniel calls them "the neigh neighs", and I taught them how to hold their hands out flat to feed the horses grass. On a side note, the horses kind of reminded me of Alex and Daniel when their is food in front of them and only one eating utensil and plate is present. By this I mean that the horses were trying to knock each other out of the way to get the handful of grass. I can't say for sure, but they may have picked this up from observing Alex and Daniel five minutes earlier, pushing each other out of the way to get a bite of ice cream off the spoon, as if we didn't have more then enough for three people. After discovering how much the "horseys", Alex's term for horses, liked the grass, he ran over to the baby cows and stuck a handful of grass into the feeding bins, and also picked the food out of the bins and was trying to feed the calves the way we did the horses. Very cute, but he jumped about ten feet in the air, as one of the calves started to lick him with it's tongue. He backed up a bit, and so the calf started to lick my arm, as I was petting him and was the closest thing to lick I suppose. Alex became immediately upset by this, and stepped in to save his mommy from being raped by a cow tongue. "NO, NO, NO, mommy, mommy, while waving his little arms at the calf". Glad to know I can count on him in a time of need! In the process of "saving mommy", the calf calmly flicked it's tail and licked Alex. This time Alex laughed, but said "ow". If you have never had the opportunity to be slobbered on by a cow, they have extremely rough tongues and this one was no exception. What did Alex do? "No bad moo cow!", then he mooed at the calf. So funny and cute.
After this we went to visit the goats and totally unprovoked Daniel says, "bad goat". They then saw a little bunny rabbit. One thing about my kids. They love rabbits and have repeatedly told me they want a rabbit. The watch Peter Rabbit at daycare, and so every rabbit they see is "Peter Rabbit". Seeing this rabbit immediately distracted them from the goats and they bent down and were saying "hi Peter Rabbit"! Over and over. My kids are so sweet and cute. I then announced that it was time to wash our hands and go home for dinner. This did not sit well. Let me tell you. Have you ever tried to wrench two, two year olds away from a petting zoo by yourself? It's an experience best avoided. After I finally got them away from the animals (after they went around and said good night and good bye to every animal there), we headed towards the car. We had to pass the building where they serve the ice cream on the way to the car. This induced another mini meltdown as I refused to take my kids inside for round two of ice cream. I finally was able to haul them to the car and we made our way home.
Once at home, I ran the bath water for them, as they said they wanted bath time before dinner. They have a new thing where they want to be in and out, and in and out, of the bath tub. Flooding the floor more with each rotation of in and out. Due to this behavior a new rule was created. If you get out once you get a reminder to say in or else, and if you get out again your done, bath time is over. They have a hard time with this and the past two nights have been spent with them being removed from the tub early and pitching a fit over being taken out of the tub. I was able to pretty quickly squash tonight's tantrum because I had soup on the stove. I got a huge family sized can thinking there would be leftovers for my lunch tomorrow. Did that happen? Nope. Did I even eat any of it? Nope again. My two babies ate an entire huge can of soup, all by themselves, every last noodle, and every bite of chicken. Another reminder of how big they are getting. These are my babies that were 4 lbs. and some change when they were born, and wouldn't gain weight at first because they refused to eat and just wanted to sleep all the time. I seem to be getting more and more reminders on a daily basis of how quickly my sons are going to grow up.
After dinner, I got them cleaned up and down from their booster chairs, forgetting the screen door was open. They immediately ran out of the door and down the back deck steps. Not normally a big deal, but I happened to be walking around in a big t shirt, wearing no pants. Thanks to a new found ability to think on my feet, and not be forced to streak through my back yard with no pants on, I grabbed the container of bubbles and bribed them back on the deck with bubbles. This worked for about five minutes and they tried to take off again. Finally forced to chase them down pantless, (thankfully they didn't make it out of my yard), they were absolutely furious when I brought them inside and locked the door. Glass door included. See my sons have this solution to the issue of screens in doors. When a screen is blocking the exit, just tear the screen out. My front door had a screen door as well as the main door. Notice I said had, not has. It was a victim of tornados Alex and Daniel. Hurricanes Alex and Daniel if there happens to be water involved. Why let a flimsy piece of screen block the entrance to the world if you want to escape is the take my kids seem to have on screen doors. At this point I wrangled Alex to the bathroom to brush his teeth. I then went to search for Daniel, who was hidden in the bookcase cabinet in his room. I smelled something before I saw it. No, not poop in case you were thinking this is another poop story. Not poop, but white nail polish spilled all over the inside of the cabinet, and my son covered in nail polish. I swear I got a buzz from the smell the second I opened the cabinet door. Nail polish stinks normally and has a strong smell. It's even more powerful when it's quite literally poured out of the bottle. At that, I decided that we had a really good day, and it was time to quit before I got any further behind. I picked Daniel up and stuck him in bed, despite the protests from him. I then got Alex and resisted the cries of "noooooooo, mommy's bed", and put him in his bed. I then decided to sit down and write.
The end of this story may seem a little stressful, but I still consider it a pretty awesome day, as I got to spend extra time with my boys and get things accomplished. I think the being off work thing makes it impossible to not have a good day. I have been scheming all day how I could possibly afford to stay home with my boys and be a stay at home mommy for the most part, and send Alex and Daniel to daycare maybe twice a week so I could get things accomplished. I could defiantly have days like this every day. Alex and Daniel are growing up way too fast to be away from them every day, all day. Do I know that it is totally impractical to think this way? Why yes, but a girl can dream right? Sigh. Oh well, maybe eventually. Read my blog and make it famous, (as if it were that good), and maybe I can. Well off to the shower and bed for this girl!
Over and Out
Erica
At the ice cream shop we ordered our food and once again Daniel was sitting quietly in a chair waiting for his ice cream. Also once again, Alex was running around like the crazy child he is. The teenager behind the counter commented on how cute they were. I may not have sounded as funny as I intended because she didn't laugh when I said "you don't have to take them home". I meant it as a joke of course, because I do love my little boys and I may be biased, but I think they are the most amazing children ever born. Yes I am one of those mother's, My children's shit doesn't stink (actually it does quite a bit), everything they do is amazing and wonderful, except when they are in full on destruction mode. I call that being a mom. Yes, I can still see the frustrating things they do, as all children do, like when Alex got out of the bathtub last night and hung his hose over my pillow and urinated on it, or when Daniel took his pants off and defecated in the ball pit, or when Alex threw pork fried rice all over the kitchen and I busted ass in it (ahh the good times!), or certainly not last or least the other night when Alex locked himself and my keys in the car, but for the most part my babies do no wrong in my eyes. I think it's ok for a mother to be like this, as long as she doesn't brush over the areas that need improvement and lead to a lifetime of not taking responsibility for personal actions and self-destruction, because a child is raised to be so sensitive to the world around them, that they can't handle any criticism or hard times. Hard times are part of life and it is a parent's job to equip their children for these times. Ok I'll get off my soap box now and get back to my story. As for the teenager, she shall see one day. In this area, probably sooner rather than later, although I would hope better for her.
Anyway, after we got our ice cream and sat outside on the playground and ate it, we headed over to the animals to say hi before leaving. We started at the miniature horses, or as Daniel calls them "the neigh neighs", and I taught them how to hold their hands out flat to feed the horses grass. On a side note, the horses kind of reminded me of Alex and Daniel when their is food in front of them and only one eating utensil and plate is present. By this I mean that the horses were trying to knock each other out of the way to get the handful of grass. I can't say for sure, but they may have picked this up from observing Alex and Daniel five minutes earlier, pushing each other out of the way to get a bite of ice cream off the spoon, as if we didn't have more then enough for three people. After discovering how much the "horseys", Alex's term for horses, liked the grass, he ran over to the baby cows and stuck a handful of grass into the feeding bins, and also picked the food out of the bins and was trying to feed the calves the way we did the horses. Very cute, but he jumped about ten feet in the air, as one of the calves started to lick him with it's tongue. He backed up a bit, and so the calf started to lick my arm, as I was petting him and was the closest thing to lick I suppose. Alex became immediately upset by this, and stepped in to save his mommy from being raped by a cow tongue. "NO, NO, NO, mommy, mommy, while waving his little arms at the calf". Glad to know I can count on him in a time of need! In the process of "saving mommy", the calf calmly flicked it's tail and licked Alex. This time Alex laughed, but said "ow". If you have never had the opportunity to be slobbered on by a cow, they have extremely rough tongues and this one was no exception. What did Alex do? "No bad moo cow!", then he mooed at the calf. So funny and cute.
After this we went to visit the goats and totally unprovoked Daniel says, "bad goat". They then saw a little bunny rabbit. One thing about my kids. They love rabbits and have repeatedly told me they want a rabbit. The watch Peter Rabbit at daycare, and so every rabbit they see is "Peter Rabbit". Seeing this rabbit immediately distracted them from the goats and they bent down and were saying "hi Peter Rabbit"! Over and over. My kids are so sweet and cute. I then announced that it was time to wash our hands and go home for dinner. This did not sit well. Let me tell you. Have you ever tried to wrench two, two year olds away from a petting zoo by yourself? It's an experience best avoided. After I finally got them away from the animals (after they went around and said good night and good bye to every animal there), we headed towards the car. We had to pass the building where they serve the ice cream on the way to the car. This induced another mini meltdown as I refused to take my kids inside for round two of ice cream. I finally was able to haul them to the car and we made our way home.
Once at home, I ran the bath water for them, as they said they wanted bath time before dinner. They have a new thing where they want to be in and out, and in and out, of the bath tub. Flooding the floor more with each rotation of in and out. Due to this behavior a new rule was created. If you get out once you get a reminder to say in or else, and if you get out again your done, bath time is over. They have a hard time with this and the past two nights have been spent with them being removed from the tub early and pitching a fit over being taken out of the tub. I was able to pretty quickly squash tonight's tantrum because I had soup on the stove. I got a huge family sized can thinking there would be leftovers for my lunch tomorrow. Did that happen? Nope. Did I even eat any of it? Nope again. My two babies ate an entire huge can of soup, all by themselves, every last noodle, and every bite of chicken. Another reminder of how big they are getting. These are my babies that were 4 lbs. and some change when they were born, and wouldn't gain weight at first because they refused to eat and just wanted to sleep all the time. I seem to be getting more and more reminders on a daily basis of how quickly my sons are going to grow up.
After dinner, I got them cleaned up and down from their booster chairs, forgetting the screen door was open. They immediately ran out of the door and down the back deck steps. Not normally a big deal, but I happened to be walking around in a big t shirt, wearing no pants. Thanks to a new found ability to think on my feet, and not be forced to streak through my back yard with no pants on, I grabbed the container of bubbles and bribed them back on the deck with bubbles. This worked for about five minutes and they tried to take off again. Finally forced to chase them down pantless, (thankfully they didn't make it out of my yard), they were absolutely furious when I brought them inside and locked the door. Glass door included. See my sons have this solution to the issue of screens in doors. When a screen is blocking the exit, just tear the screen out. My front door had a screen door as well as the main door. Notice I said had, not has. It was a victim of tornados Alex and Daniel. Hurricanes Alex and Daniel if there happens to be water involved. Why let a flimsy piece of screen block the entrance to the world if you want to escape is the take my kids seem to have on screen doors. At this point I wrangled Alex to the bathroom to brush his teeth. I then went to search for Daniel, who was hidden in the bookcase cabinet in his room. I smelled something before I saw it. No, not poop in case you were thinking this is another poop story. Not poop, but white nail polish spilled all over the inside of the cabinet, and my son covered in nail polish. I swear I got a buzz from the smell the second I opened the cabinet door. Nail polish stinks normally and has a strong smell. It's even more powerful when it's quite literally poured out of the bottle. At that, I decided that we had a really good day, and it was time to quit before I got any further behind. I picked Daniel up and stuck him in bed, despite the protests from him. I then got Alex and resisted the cries of "noooooooo, mommy's bed", and put him in his bed. I then decided to sit down and write.
The end of this story may seem a little stressful, but I still consider it a pretty awesome day, as I got to spend extra time with my boys and get things accomplished. I think the being off work thing makes it impossible to not have a good day. I have been scheming all day how I could possibly afford to stay home with my boys and be a stay at home mommy for the most part, and send Alex and Daniel to daycare maybe twice a week so I could get things accomplished. I could defiantly have days like this every day. Alex and Daniel are growing up way too fast to be away from them every day, all day. Do I know that it is totally impractical to think this way? Why yes, but a girl can dream right? Sigh. Oh well, maybe eventually. Read my blog and make it famous, (as if it were that good), and maybe I can. Well off to the shower and bed for this girl!
Over and Out
Erica
Tuesday, May 14, 2013
Pop the Lock and Throw Away the Key
What a day. I can't say it was good. It was definitely far more bad than good, although I think it's mainly because I am in a bit of a funk and throwing myself a pity party. I suppose everyone is entitled to it at some point. That's not the point of this post though. Tonight I had one of those experiences as a mother that was slightly scary, slightly funny after the fact, and a learning experience as well. Tonight I left my keys in my car as I had no pockets and my kids were playing outside at my mom's house. After we were done playing and I was ready to take them back to our house, Alex climbed in the car, and I heard the beep of the key fob as Alex locked himself, and my keys in the car. Would it have made sense to not leave the keys in the car? Absolutely. Did I even think of that at the time? No. I was mainly thinking that I did not want to lose my keys running around outside. My mom and I were coaxing Alex to try to unlock the doors and he was pushing every button but the right ones. At this point, Alex was pouring hand sanitizer all over my car, jumping from seat to seat and making cute little faces like "I know better, but I'm so cute it's ok".
Meanwhile...
Moving on to the wedge idea. My mom asked me at this time if I had ever had anyone help me break into my car before. I said yes, and suggested we get a screwdriver and a wire coat hanger to try and force our way in. As my mother is trying to break into my car, all the while I'm playing with Daniel and trying to coax Alex into opening the door, she comes up with the idea to check and see if a neighbor had a kit to break into a car. This was about 45 minutes after we got started. I drove down to my neighbors house and yes he had a kit to open up a car. He and another neighbor came up and as they were working towards unlocking the door, Alex began to play with the lock and as my neighbor encouraged him to "pull, pull harder" and suddenly, the lock popped open. All it took was a little encouragement from a man with a deep voice. Apparently that's what it takes to make my sons listen to me and stop goofing around.
So tonight was a learning experience and also another reminder of how smart and wonderful my little boys are. Lately I have just hated leaving them so much. I would love to stay home with them all day. Alas that is not in the cards for a single mommy, but as I put them to bed tonight, I was already counting down the moments until Saturday, when I have two full days to spend with my baby boys. I'm going to head to bed now to deal with myself before my day at work and away from my boys tomorrow.
Good Night for Now!
Erica
Meanwhile...
Moving on to the wedge idea. My mom asked me at this time if I had ever had anyone help me break into my car before. I said yes, and suggested we get a screwdriver and a wire coat hanger to try and force our way in. As my mother is trying to break into my car, all the while I'm playing with Daniel and trying to coax Alex into opening the door, she comes up with the idea to check and see if a neighbor had a kit to break into a car. This was about 45 minutes after we got started. I drove down to my neighbors house and yes he had a kit to open up a car. He and another neighbor came up and as they were working towards unlocking the door, Alex began to play with the lock and as my neighbor encouraged him to "pull, pull harder" and suddenly, the lock popped open. All it took was a little encouragement from a man with a deep voice. Apparently that's what it takes to make my sons listen to me and stop goofing around.
So tonight was a learning experience and also another reminder of how smart and wonderful my little boys are. Lately I have just hated leaving them so much. I would love to stay home with them all day. Alas that is not in the cards for a single mommy, but as I put them to bed tonight, I was already counting down the moments until Saturday, when I have two full days to spend with my baby boys. I'm going to head to bed now to deal with myself before my day at work and away from my boys tomorrow.
Good Night for Now!
Erica
Monday, May 13, 2013
Couscous meets Toddler: Failure of Epic Proportions and Tidal Waves in the Bathroom!
To end things off on a lighter note tonight I thought I would share my experience with feeding my toddler's couscous. For those of you who may not know what this is, (not a judgment, I didn't know until about a year ago when my mom started making it), it is little tiny balls of pasta. Anyone who knows how toddlers eat, especially twins who are in constant competition to make a bigger mess, knows that tiny balls of anything, especially slightly sticky pasta is never a good idea. This aside my son Daniel absolutely loves it. This is mostly likely a result of the messy quality of food that is couscous. As I am a mom that aims to please (and also gets pissy when my hard work and yummy, well balanced meals hit the floor), I figured I would make something that my children like, in this case Hawaiian marinated chicken, carrots, and couscous with sweet chili Thai sauce on it. As a foot note I would also like to add that I just cleaned my kitchen floor two days ago, so this makes the turn of events at dinner even more tragic.
Fast forward from clean kitchens and making tasty dinners to ten minutes after the food is put on the table. While Daniel made a genuine effort to eat all of his couscous and ask for seconds, Alex was literally making it rain. No, not dollars as in the song "Make it Rain", but literal couscous rain all over my kitchen. Throwing handfuls in the air between shoving bites of chicken in his mouth and asking for "mo chicken mommy". Thankfully Alex responded well to the "stop throwing food if you want more chicken concept", and stopped. Meanwhile Daniel said, "I done momma, down please". After thanking him for his polite manners in asking to get down, I realized that in the rush to stuff as much couscous down his throat, as quickly as possible, he had also covered himself in it, as well as, but not limited to, the chair, his booster seat, his jeans, the inside of his jeans and diaper, the entire floor around his chair and the glass patio door behind him. What a mess! I calmly cleaned him up and stuck him straight in the bath tub. What have I learned from this mess? That's right couscous is a food that requires close supervision, and possible loss of self-feeding privileges, especially on newly cleaned floors.
As we moved from dinner to bath time, I realized that the amount of clean up required tonight was going to be pretty significant, as bath time began to quickly resemble the ride "Splash Mountain" at Disney World, minus the warning splash zone signs and the screaming kids. Oh yeah, that's right, there were screaming kids and a mommy ducking for cover, so quite possibly closer to the theme park ride then I originally thought. Thankfully my children are cute at all times, no matter what, even when you know, your mopping up an inch of water from your bathroom floor. You may say, why not drain the bath tub? The answer is simple. They still have to get cleaned up right? Plain water does not constitute being so fresh and so clean. Sometimes it's easier to ride the wave (literally) and go with the flow (or the monsoon!). After drying two babies off and moving into tooth brushing time (and having Daniel shove my toothbrush halfway down my throat; we do mommy's turn and babies turn in my house), we were off to the living room to spend some quality family time together, reading stories and watching The Pajanimals before bedtime.
At this time Daniel decided it was good to stick with the theme of the evening (couscous rain, literal tidal waves in the tub, are we seeing a pattern here tonight?), and flood the living room floor with almost every movie on our entertainment center. I totally did not see it coming, as my kids have not touched the movies in ages and I figured the whole scaling the entertainment center phase was over. After we put the movies back away together (at the threat of early bedtime, which I hate since I love cuddle time with my boys), we snuggled on my over sized living room chair together to read a book. I thought maybe it was finally time to wind down, until my sons figured out that they could jump on the ottoman, over the arm of the love seat, and hit the floor. (What a fun game! Who would have guessed hitting the floor at high speed could be fun?). After a few more minutes of this, quiet time finally came to my house. When I announced bedtime, my sons did the sweetest and cutest thing I can think of. (And also heart-breaking considering I love to cuddle with my sons). They said "mommy's bed" and took off for my bed. I went back to my room to find them cuddled up under my blankets, looking just as cute and sweet as could be. Unfortunately, any parent knows this, you never sleep as well when your kids are in your bed, so I shooed them off to their own beds. I think that I am the luckiest mommy in the world to have such sweet little boys. As for this mommy though, I think that it is time for me to snuggle up in my bed (after checking in on my boys), and get to sleep myself. Four am comes wayyy too early!
Over and Out
Erica
Fast forward from clean kitchens and making tasty dinners to ten minutes after the food is put on the table. While Daniel made a genuine effort to eat all of his couscous and ask for seconds, Alex was literally making it rain. No, not dollars as in the song "Make it Rain", but literal couscous rain all over my kitchen. Throwing handfuls in the air between shoving bites of chicken in his mouth and asking for "mo chicken mommy". Thankfully Alex responded well to the "stop throwing food if you want more chicken concept", and stopped. Meanwhile Daniel said, "I done momma, down please". After thanking him for his polite manners in asking to get down, I realized that in the rush to stuff as much couscous down his throat, as quickly as possible, he had also covered himself in it, as well as, but not limited to, the chair, his booster seat, his jeans, the inside of his jeans and diaper, the entire floor around his chair and the glass patio door behind him. What a mess! I calmly cleaned him up and stuck him straight in the bath tub. What have I learned from this mess? That's right couscous is a food that requires close supervision, and possible loss of self-feeding privileges, especially on newly cleaned floors.
As we moved from dinner to bath time, I realized that the amount of clean up required tonight was going to be pretty significant, as bath time began to quickly resemble the ride "Splash Mountain" at Disney World, minus the warning splash zone signs and the screaming kids. Oh yeah, that's right, there were screaming kids and a mommy ducking for cover, so quite possibly closer to the theme park ride then I originally thought. Thankfully my children are cute at all times, no matter what, even when you know, your mopping up an inch of water from your bathroom floor. You may say, why not drain the bath tub? The answer is simple. They still have to get cleaned up right? Plain water does not constitute being so fresh and so clean. Sometimes it's easier to ride the wave (literally) and go with the flow (or the monsoon!). After drying two babies off and moving into tooth brushing time (and having Daniel shove my toothbrush halfway down my throat; we do mommy's turn and babies turn in my house), we were off to the living room to spend some quality family time together, reading stories and watching The Pajanimals before bedtime.
At this time Daniel decided it was good to stick with the theme of the evening (couscous rain, literal tidal waves in the tub, are we seeing a pattern here tonight?), and flood the living room floor with almost every movie on our entertainment center. I totally did not see it coming, as my kids have not touched the movies in ages and I figured the whole scaling the entertainment center phase was over. After we put the movies back away together (at the threat of early bedtime, which I hate since I love cuddle time with my boys), we snuggled on my over sized living room chair together to read a book. I thought maybe it was finally time to wind down, until my sons figured out that they could jump on the ottoman, over the arm of the love seat, and hit the floor. (What a fun game! Who would have guessed hitting the floor at high speed could be fun?). After a few more minutes of this, quiet time finally came to my house. When I announced bedtime, my sons did the sweetest and cutest thing I can think of. (And also heart-breaking considering I love to cuddle with my sons). They said "mommy's bed" and took off for my bed. I went back to my room to find them cuddled up under my blankets, looking just as cute and sweet as could be. Unfortunately, any parent knows this, you never sleep as well when your kids are in your bed, so I shooed them off to their own beds. I think that I am the luckiest mommy in the world to have such sweet little boys. As for this mommy though, I think that it is time for me to snuggle up in my bed (after checking in on my boys), and get to sleep myself. Four am comes wayyy too early!
Over and Out
Erica
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