Bad Mommy Mondays

1. I occasionally refer to Miles as "my kid".  Apparently, it is just rude.  Also, I should no longer call him "The Boy".  His real name, "my son", "my child", or "my darling son" are all acceptable terms, however.
2. I have swatted 'my kid' on his bum on occasion already.  Sometimes, Miles repeatedly does something that could result in serious harm (i.e. climbing on tables, pulling out the socket covers*, etc.), and nothing I can say or do will distract him.  However, a light tap on his hiney usually stops him.  Apparently, this makes me a horrible, illogical mother who is going to psychologically scar my child for life.  Never mind the fact that his continued disobedience would result in real harm to him.  Obviously random internet-strangers know more about how to discipline my kid than I do.
3. As a corollary to #2, however, I did not begin spanking my child "hard, on the ass" at the age of six months.  Apparently, my reluctance to spank a child who is too young to really understand discipline can only end in him drinking chemicals or popping pills.  I'm not even sure how these things are related, but a neighbor told me this not once, not twice, but every.single.time  I saw her.  In fact, I'm pretty sure she would watch for me to come outside so she could tell me this again.
4. I use sign-language with my son (who has normal hearing).  Apparently (despite all research to the contrary), this will result in a child who is reluctant to speak verbally.  The lovely lady who said this also stated that she would never use sign language with her kids because she found it, "annoying" and "creepy".
5. I listen to my own music rather than always listening to stuff that has been deemed "kid-friendly" by whoever decides these things.  That being said, one of my current favorite songs is "Philadelphia Chickens".
6. My toddler throws temper tantrums from time to time.  Occasionally, this happens in public.  It doesn't mean that I 'need to deal with my kid'.  It means he's a toddler, and these things happen.  If you're that concerned, you could offer to help.  Otherwise, you can stop staring and move to another aisle.  And if I overhear your comment, and respond to it, at least have the decency to call me something more original than 'bitch'.
7. I have a potty mouth.  Oops.
8. I brag about my son.  A lot.  Apparently, this is annoying. (Not sure if that makes me a bad mommy, or just a bad human being.  Meh.)  Unfortunately for you, I happen to have birthed the most amazing human ever, so it's impossible to stop bragging.  Deal.
9. I may or may not have sprayed my son with water in an attempt to discourage him from climbing the television.  I learned that the water squirter only works on the dog.  Yet another form of discipline that did not dissuade Miles from climbing the television. (I should note that no one called me a bad mother for this one - yet.)
10. I cater to my child's "idiosyncrasies".  Apparently, I am only making them worse.  Unfortunately, the term "idiosyncrasies" was never qualified beyond that, so I'm not actually certain what I'm making worse.  I would like to point out, however, that I did not punch this person in the face (or anywhere else) for saying such things in a derogatory tone about my kid.  In retrospect, I wish I had . . .

*Yep, he does this.  Scary, no?

Epic Shower Fail

Did you ever have an idea that sounded like a good idea at the time, but turned out to be an absolutely horrific idea?  One of those that, when you thought about it later, made you question your sanity for even considering it in the first place?

Yeah, I had one of those moments on Thursday.

Up until recently, I have always showered during Miles' first nap of the day - somewhere between 10:00 and 11:00 in the morning.*  It worked out nicely, because I was usually able to shower, and then prep lunch before Miles woke up.  Then, Miles became a one-nap-a-day kid.  If I wait until his nap?  It will be 12:30 in the afternoon before I shower.  And that's a little too sluggish, even for me.  I cannot shower first thing in the morning, because that's when Stacey showers.  And showering at night means I have this massively ugly afro in the morning.

So, in a moment of insanity brought on by 'my hair feels icky', I had a brilliant thought.  I am forever hearing stories from other moms about how their kids play quietly in the bathroom while they shower.  Now, this is where I should have scoffed at the idea.  Because Miles?  Has never 'played quietly' while I'm doing anything short of watching his every move.**  Still in my ick-induced delirium, I set Miles up with a box of Duplos on the bathroom floor, and rushed to jump in the shower.

I began to see the flaw in my plan the minute the water was turned on.  Miles appeared at the side of the tub, peeking around the shower curtain, begging to be allowed in.  I quickly soaped my hair, while he hung from the side of the tub, and said, "Just a minute, Sweetie, Mommy will be right out."  Miles took that as permission to try crawling into the tub fully clothed.

Seeing wet, slobbering concussions in my near future, I quickly stripped him out of his clothes, and put him on the far end of the tub, with his bath toys.  Meanwhile, I went back to the warm confines of the shower stream to rinse my hair.

And realized that it was far too hot for Miles.  See, my approach to cleaning is that if the water is hot enough, it will strip the dirt right off of anything.  This includes me.  Plus, I am completely incapable of retaining even the least little bit of body heat, so the heat helps keep me from developing hypothermia in my own house.^  So, the water in the shower was somewhere just short of boiling as it came from the shower head.  I quickly adjusted it down to a level that was cool enough for Miles.  Which meant that I was instantly freezing.

Meanwhile, Miles had realized that the tub was not filling up with water, and that instead, water was spraying down from somewhere up high.  He was displeased with this arrangement, and decided to let it be known.  By sitting between my feet and screaming for all he was worth.  His screams seemed to echo, "Mommy, why is there water coming from the sky?"

To which I replied, "Okay, Sweetie, scoot back here, Mommy will rinse her hair, and then we'll turn off the evil water."

Screaming, obviously translating to, "But, Mommy!  There's water!  Coming from the sky!  I need to be between your feet for safety!"

"Move back here, please!"

"I can't!  There's water!  Coming from the sky!!!  It's so awful I'm going to look up at you while I scream!" <Miles gets a face-full of water> "Water!!! Coming from the sky!!!"

"Move back!  Mommy will fix it!  But I have to rinse the soap from my hair!"  After all, it's only been there for ten minutes, now!

". . . But there's water coming from the sky!!!  It's dreadful!  Save me."

"Fine."

I picked him up, wrapped him in a towel and deposited him on the outside of the tub, so I could make the desperate attempt to rinse my damned hair.  Apparently, being outside the tub made Miles forget everything that had happened in the last ten minutes, because two seconds later, he was trying to climb back into the tub.

And that's how I ended up standing naked outside the shower, bent over backward, rinsing my hair with one hand in the freezing cold water, while trying to keep my naked toddler from crawling into the tub with my opposite leg.

*Yes, that means I sit around in my pajamas until then.  I am a lazy slug.  But I like it, so :p

**Seriously, the kid seems to think he is incapable of play unless someone is watching.

^I should note that we keep the temperature in our home between 68 and 70 degrees Fahrenheit, which would be plenty warm enough for anyone whose body can retain any heat at all.  My body has apparently decided that standing upright is enough of an accomplishment for it.  Retaining heat would just be overkill.

Battles & Blessings

What a week it's been . . .

Battles:

• Teething.  Yeah, these eye-teeth/canines/fangs are awful.  
• Exploding engine.  Yeah, that sucked.*
• Being without a vehicle all week.  Because my engine exploded.
• Stressful work day on Wednesday.  It's a loooooong story, and I can't really get into it, but it was not a fun day.  And Miles screamed all day.
• Epic Shower Fail.  Details tomorrow.
• Serious lack of motivation.
• Feeling completely overwhelmed already.  And we haven't even really started the season, yet.

Blessings:

• Patrick, who has helped with the house, fielded Miles, made me laugh, and held me close when I needed it.
• Cuddles from Miles.  I know it's because he's uncomfortable and in pain, but I'm glad that he has chosen to cuddle with me for comfort.  I wonder if he knows how good it is for both of us.
• Stacey.  Without the use of our car, this week would have been much more difficult, and Patrick would not have been able to go purchase:
• A new (to us) van.  As of Thursday evening, we are the proud owners of a . . . I forget the details.  A new minivan.  Hooray!!!
• My kids' group.  After a horrifically terrible day at work on Wednesday, my kiddos were an absolute joy.  I am impressed at how much my returning kids remember, and at how quickly the new ones are learning.
• Festival reunion party, last night.  It was so wonderful to see everyone again.  And an awesome reminder of why I work my tail off to keep my job.  I really do enjoy it.
• My mommy forums.  Once again, they provided me with the support I needed, instantaneously.  I am so lucky to have such a great group of moms to lean on.
• This blog.  It is so nice to have an outlet for all of my rantings.  Plus, the fact that others read it encourages me to look at everything with humor.  Because if I just ranted, it would be boring.  But, if I can make people laugh, while still venting, then I feel all accomplished and stuff.

*Okay, it didn't explode.  It had a "sprung piston", whatever the hell that means.  It still means the engine is shot.

Friday Photos!

Miles is shocked!

Mommy's Little Rock Star

My Diminutive Dude in his Dapper Duds.

Taking a break from playing hard in the sunshine.

Focusing on the Positive

In a week that has been filled with such joys as a broken engine, a teething toddler, and a Highly Stressful Work Environment, it would be easy to whine today.  In fact, part of me wants nothing more than to do just that.  But, whining solves nothing, so instead, I'm going to try making a list of the cute things Miles has done lately.  Those usually cheer me up. :)

• "Reading".  Miles will sit in the recliner in his room (where we usually read to him), and pull books off the shelf.  He will turn the pages and point to pictures, and occasionally, 'read' it aloud.  I am thrilled beyond belief at his obvious love of books.
• Blowing kisses.  It's his way of saying, "I love you," and it melts my heart every.single.time, even if I'm not on the receiving end.
• Playing his toy guitar.  For Christmas, Miles got an toy electric guitar that plays five or six classic rock songs.  In our recent toy cycling, the guitar came out (and the annoying piano thing got put away - yay!).  Miles has been carrying his guitar around, playing it, and then dancing to the music.
• 'Helping' me at work.  Miles likes to sit on the corner of my desk and rearrange the papers and other items in my paper trays.  Luckily, at this point in the season, they're relatively empty.  :)
• He also enjoys taking dictation.  I will hand him some paper and a crayon or pencil, and he will scribble on the paper while I talk.  If I stop talking, he stops writing, and looks at me, as if to say, "Is that all?"
• High fives.  Last night, we had our first audition workshop for the kids' group that I direct.  Miles came and hung out with Daddy for most of the night, but he would occasionally grace us with his presence long enough to do a little dance, blow a little fire, and run around giving absolutely everyone a high five. The girls in my group were positively smitten with him.
• Pretending to drink out of empty cups.  He will tip them all the way back, as though he is sucking out the last drops, and then puts the cup down, smacks his lips, and says "Ahhhh!"
• Actually drinking out of open-top cups.  If you put a tiny bit of water into the bottom of a cup, he will drink it.  Only about half ends up on the floor.  "Ahhhh!" is still an important part of the process.
• Swimming in the bathtub.  He loves to lay on his belly and kick his feet, and swim with his arms.  No idea how he knows the proper arm movements for swimming, but he does.  I can't wait to get this kid back in the pool this summer. :)
• Helping with absolutely everything.  Taking trash to the trash can.  Wiping up spilled milk off the table.  Choosing his own clothes (out of two options).  The juice ritual.  Vacuuming.  Putting toys away.  Turning the television on.  Putting the dog in the kennel when we leave.
• Knowing when I need a cuddle.  This week has been rough.  Miles knows that, and is trying to help me by crawling into my lap for a much-needed cuddle that sometimes stretches into twenty minutes or more.  Part of it is his own discomfort, I know, but it sure is nice to have those cuddles on a bad day.
• Chasing the dog with a giant green balloon.  I don't know why, but he's decided this is fun.  Luckily, the dog agrees, and they play this game with wild abandon back and forth across the living room.  It's all I can do to just sit and giggle the entire time.
• Watching the "Cucks!" [trucks].  Whether it's the garbage truck, or a delivery truck, or an 18-wheeler, this kid loves his trucks.  He gets so excited to see them.
• Having conversations.  When I'm working in the kitchen, he will come in, and lean on the doorway or wall and talk to me.  Just like Bethany and Stacey do when I am cooking dinner.  This usually ends when he gets distracted by trying to help me.
• Pointing at all sorts of things.  If a regular point doesn't elicit the correct response, he will turn his hand sideways, upside down, and all sorts of random angles in an attempt to more accurately point at whatever it is.
• Clearly saying all sorts of new words, complete with ending sounds.  Some favorites include: hat, hot, T<raspberry> [TV], up, cup, pease [please], shuce [shoes], cat, light, taytu [thank you], owsi [outside], dat [that], esh [yes], and essue [bless you].

Revenge of Tuesday

If you've read this blog for at least the last two weeks, you know all about my arch-nemesis, Tuesday.  It returned this week, with a vengeance.


It all started with a crazy-wild toddler, in a hurry to get out the door.  In such a hurry, in fact, that he couldn't be bothered to get dressed.  Or eat.  Or do any of the other hundred little things you have to do to get out of the door in the morning.  All he wanted to do was go bye-bye.  After a hundred major temper tantrums, and a few minor miracles, I managed to get him out the door, and into the van.

When I turned the key, though, it began knocking like crazy - something it has never done before.  So, I drove by Patrick's office and had him listen to it. He told me to drive it as little as possible, and we dropped it off at the mechanic's during his lunch break.


Three hours later, in the midst of another screaming fit, Patrick called with the diagnosis: the van needs a new engine.

Blargh. Tuesday wins this round, I guess.


[Disclaimer: We are figuring it out.  We will manage, and I will update you on our new vehicle in the near future, hopefully.  I just needed to vent a little.]

The Tunnel

For Christmas, Miles got this amazing play tent with an attachable, collapsible tunnel.  We've gotten the tent out a few times, but unfortunately it just takes up waaaaaay too much room to leave it up all the time (which is a shame, since he loves it).  The tunnel, on the other hand, collapses easily, so it stays accessible.  Lately, Miles has been obsessed with the tunnel.

Yesterday, he brought me the flat tunnel, shoved it at me, and signed, "help, please!" while jumping up and down.  So, I opened it up and threw it down in the middle of the floor, expecting him to run away and ignore me for the next twenty minutes.

Instead, he moved the tunnel around until it was where he wanted it, then came over, closed my laptop, put my feet on the ground, and grabbed my hand like he was going to pull me out of the chair if he had to.  All the while, he was saying, "Mere! 'Mere!" [trans: Come Here!]

I followed him, excited to be involved in his play for once.  He led me to one end of the tunnel, and indicated that he wanted me to sit down.  Then, he pointed at the end of the tunnel, ran around to the other side, then crawled about halfway in, yelling, "Mere! Mere!"

I sighed, laid down flat on the floor, and wiggled my torso into the tunnel.  When I couldn't go any further, Miles crawled up until he was inches from my face, grinned really big, then laid down on his back, and started talking to me.  We stayed there, chatting, for the next twenty minutes.

My heart threatened to bust with the sheer joy of sharing secrets with my son.