My husband and I have been working on a face-lift in our basement family room. New drywall, new carpet, new paint. Last week I took Liam down to see the paint job in process. He thought it was really cool to watch dad with the paint brush, doing the edging between the wall and the ceiling.
Fast-forward five minutes.
I walk into Liam’s bedroom to get him changed for bedtime and find him kneeling by the wall. He proudly tells me, “paint like dad!” He has a tampon in his hand and is making painting motions on the wall. So, I feel the need to point out that it was a brand new, never opened tampon that he must have stolen from the bathroom cupboard, because if I didn’t, “painting with a tampon” could take on a whole new meaning. But with that little explanation out of the way, I still laughed out loud and made sure to take pictures to show daddy, and well, all of you. SO here you have it: painting with a tampon. My good little helper.
Markers are fun, aren’t they?
My kid is an ART. PRODIGY.
Is it bad that I don’t even care that he colored all over himself? At least it wasn’t a wall.
My kid has pipes. Not plumber pipes, not a musical instrument, and no, he doesn’t have biceps like his dad (yet). Liam can SCREAM.
He’s almost two and at this awesome developmental stage, he often gets frustrated because he doesn’t yet have the vocabulary to express his emotions or let us know his wants/needs.
So he screams.
Sometimes he screams so hard his little face turns red and he makes himself cough. When that happens, we tell him he’s not a monster, he’s a little boy. Whatevs. I’d rather have him express himself vocally than throw toys or hit.
However, Liam is like his daddy when it comes to being frustrated… they both go from 0-50 in like 0.2 seconds. Me, on the other hand – I’m like a teapot: I can remain under control and calm when I’m frustrated or stressed, but if I’m continuously pushed, my blood pressure will boil and boil until GAME OVER.
Except for yesterday. Yesterday, I wasn’t a teapot. Yesterday, I too, was a monster.
It went down like this:
I was helping Liam with a little Nerf gun. Showing him to put the darts in and pull the loader back to shoot the darts. Apparently I wasn’t working fast enough for him because out of nowhere came the monster-child with a scream so shrill and loud that it totally startled me. In a completely involuntary response, I screamed too – LOUDLY – because his scream literally scared the shit out of me. And my scream scared the shit out of him.
SO there we were. Both silent. Both staring at each other trying to figure out what the fuck just happened. I handed him back the Nerf gun and away he went, like nothing happened. Like The Scream was just that: a ghost of the past.
Happy New Year! I haven’t posted in awhile… you might think it’s because the holidays can be busy. While that is true, the real reason is because of this sequence of events:
- Liam got sick
- I got sick
- Husband got sick
- I got sick
- Liam got sick
- Husband got sick
- I got sick
- I got better briefly
- I got sick
In conclusion, OMG everyone has been sick. Over the past five weeks or so, I’ve experienced everything from that pesky runny nose that comes on suddenly and without warning running like a faucet down your face, to feeling like I was getting stabbed in the throat every time I swallowed, to cleaning up toddler puke (not spit-up, PUKE – what kind? “CHUNKY!”) to finally, as my husband kindly puts it, having “the Hershey squirts.”
Let me tell you, you have not lived until you have cleaned up chunky toddler puke twice in one night. It was the oddest thing – Liam puked, and then acted totally normal. Running around his room playing and being a goofball. I called an on-call nurse at 3:30 am not because I was worried he had puked twice that night already, but because I didn’t know what to do with a randomly-puking toddler. Like, do you just put him back in his crib and hope he doesn’t puke again? Yes – the answer is yes you do. Well, Ok then. I got lucky – no round three on the toddler-puke-wagon.
Now, taking care of and cleaning up after a pooping husband, that is something else entirely and we are just not going to get into that part of my holiday break. “The end” on that portion.
It’s been en eventful holiday season. Beyond the sickness we have been so cheerfully passing around our family, we were invited to two New Year’s Eve parties…. both of which got cancelled. One due to Influenza A and the other due to pink eye. GAH!
Still, the holidays were filled with family and joy and cheer. Here are a few pictures of Liam with his favorite Christmas gifts: his child-sized Dyson vacuum cleaner and “Baby Levi.”
Happy New Year and be well, everyone!
This morning, Liam picked his nose and wiped a bugger on me. I didn’t even flinch.
Yesterday, I saw his nose was running and I didn’t have a Kleenex, so I wiped it with my finger.
Two days ago, I picked up a chunk of fallen poo with my fingers.
Last week, I caught Liam licking spilled milk off the floor. I rolled with it.
What does all of this say about me? I have no idea, but I have decided that motherhood lowers your standards for everything. And apparently Liam hasn’t gotten the memo that he should raise his.
I’m cool with it. Happy Thursday.
So, I haven’t posted in awhile. I suppose that’s good, because it means that nothing incredibly stupid or awful has happened that has inspired me to post. But it is time. And you know what inspired me today?
ELF ON THE SHELF. Fuckin’ creepy – that is all.
Well, that should be all. That statement should need no further explanation, but I think I am in the minority with this opinion, so here is a brief explanation on why this creepy little elf fucker will not make its way into my home.
- Just look at him. Those skinny arms and legs, big eyes and creepy smirk remind me a little too much of Jack from the Nightmare before Christmas. The thought of either of these guys secretly scurrying around my house is not Christmas-cutesy, it’s freakin’ creepy.
- So let me get this straight… I’m supposed to tell my kid that he needs to be good because the Elf on the Shelf is always watching and reports back to Santa? DUDE – I don’t want my kid to think that his every move is being watched by anything or anyone other than me. No one likes that feeling of something lurking just over their shoulder. There are enough things in this world to be afraid of – like E.T., ghosts, or Oompa-Loompas (seriously – WTF), all of which I happen to still be afraid of. Judge if you must.
- “It’s a family tradition” – More like, it’s a money-making machine! Kind of ironic that Elf on the Shelf is supposed to help kids learn the spirit of Christmas, being good and kind and giving, and the creators of the creeper are rolling in the dough. Moving on… Tradition, huh? Pretty sure this wasn’t around when I was a kid. I wasn’t threatened with the spy-like capabilities of Santa’s scout elf watching me during the holidays, I was just expected to be good within reason. I think I’d rather have my son try to be “good” for me and his father, than for a secret-service-santa-elf.
- So this is a toy that supposedly comes to life and does cute, nice and funny things during the night for the child to find… Ok. Thinking back to when I was a kid with an incredibly active imagination, I used to put blankets over the heads of my dolls at night because I was terrified that these dolls (who I loved dearly) would come alive during the night and blink, move their heads, or talk to me. I thought of this on my own… I see no need to put the thought into my son’s head that his toys may come alive at night, even if it is well-intended.
- You can’t touch it, only talk to it. “There’s only one rule that you have to follow so I will come back and be here tomorrow: Please do not touch me. My magic might go, and Santa won’t hear all I’ve seen or I know.” I can’t explain it, but this just creeps me out. Hey Liam – here’s an elf that spies on you, reports what you say and do to Santa, and he wants to be your friend but DO NOT GET NEAR HIM. STAY THE FUCK AWAY.
And that is why we won’t do Elf on the Shelf in our house. * Shutter * If you do Elf on the Shelf at your house, I mean you no harm. Elf-away, elf-away. Just please don’t set your little spy up in a scene at my house. I may just pee my pants.
When I’m trying to <get dressed, do my hair/makeup, cook, clean, insert parent-duty-thing-here> I will sometimes give Liam something to do as a distraction so I can get said thing done.
Well, sometimes that backfires.
Here is a list of things I have learned to only give to an un-attended toddler with caution.
- A banana. Seems innocent enough, and you may be thinking, “my kid loves bananas!” Yes, so does mine. I often give him one to eat and he happily runs away with it. Well, the last time I did this, I came home to find my husband scrubbing squished banana out of the bathroom rug. Whoops.
- Your cell phone. It’s the perfect distraction, I know. I used to let him hold it because he didn’t know how to unlock the screen, so it was no big deal. Holding it made him happy and let me get shit done. Well, apparently he knows how to unlock the screen now because I once took it back from him to find half my apps deleted and that he had gotten into my banking app and transferred money between accounts.
- His toothbrush. You might be wondering, what’s wrong with good oral hygiene? Nothing. However, I gave Liam his toothbrush this morning to so he could brush his teeth (which he loves doing) while I was getting dressed for work. Suddenly, I felt something wet rubbing on my bare-butt. It was Liam’s toothbrush. He was rubbing his wet toothbrush all over my butt.
- A dish towel. I know, this one seems really weird. But here’s the deal: Toddlers are extremely helpful little creatures. When something spills, Liam likes to grab a dish towel and clean it up. It’s cute. So one day, as a distraction, I gave him a towel and told him “go clean!” He took that job very seriously. When I was finished getting ready, I came out of the bathroom to find Liam had purposely been spilling milk out of his sippy cup all over the living room so he could clean it up. OMG.
In a lot of ways, I feel like I should have seen each of these blunders coming. Live and learn, and then come up with new and better toddler distractions.