Sunday, August 31, 2008

Guest Entry: Poo-Poo Padoo

Poo-Poo Padoo: noun. Any sort of catastrophe involving poop.

Toni, a mommy friend of mine, sent this in:

"I was talking to my SIL [sister-in-law] on the phone and she thought her dog was dying (so it was a pretty serious conversation-dog was ok though :) and cooking spagetti. Jacob (3) runs in covered in poo... As I follow the "trail" back to the toilet, the bathroom was covered in about a 3 ft radius of the toilet.... Oh and the baby was crying too, lol. Poo explosions are never fun, but accompanied by all the other events, this one was memory worthy, lol!"

When Monkey Son #1 was about 18 months or so, a poo-poo padoo ended with me getting rid of our diaper pail. He was playing in his room, and when I went to check on him, he had managed to pull a poopy diaper out of the diaper pail and smear poop everywhere. I think from then on, poopy diapers went into a plastic bag and into the regular trash.

Now that we have Monkey Son #2 and use cloth diapers, we have another diaper pail, but it is kept in the bathroom, instead of their room.

Wednesday, August 27, 2008

Adorable Refresher

Adorable Refresher: noun. A certain thing a child does or says that is so cute, you remember right then and there how much you love them.

Every now and then, the idea of marriage floats into Monkey Son #1's mind. I'm not sure why that is, other than he knows that it's something people do when they grow up. One day, he said something like, "When I grow up, I'm going to marry you."

"You can't," I said. "I'm already married to Daddy."

I don't quite remember how he took that news, but it must not have been all that troubling, as recently he came to me again with another idea.

"When I grow up, can I find a girl like you and marry her?"

Tuesday, August 19, 2008

Imperadult

Imperadult: noun. An adult that has realized that being a parent has not made them smarter or all that much more coordinated.

OK, we know as parents we've had to really develop some otherwise lacking skills, like organization or time management. But, I realize, being a parent has not made me more much more savvy in pop culture (except for noticing age inappropriate clothing on little girls).

The other day, Husband said something profoundly silly, to which I replied, "It's always nice when Mickey Rooney comes to visit."

"What?" he asked.

"Mickey Rooney? Isn't he the one who says things like, 'It's not over 'til it's over'?"

"Yogi Berra."

"Yeah, him."

Sometimes, I am supermom, and other times, I feel like a moron.

Saturday, August 16, 2008

Gym-not-stics

Gym-not-stics: noun. A series of rather clumsy actions that children perform after seeing someone trained do them, particularly gymnasts.

Recently, Monkey Son #1 was watching gymnastics during the Olympics. Well, you've heard the phrase, "Monkey see, monkey do," right? He started jumping in the air and spinning as best he could, and at some point tried to do tricks on his bed. Of course, I did the responsible thing and told him that the people on TV have had special training and gone to special schools to learn how to do what they do. He got off with a little more understanding and no injury.

Once upon a time, my older sister was not so lucky. Family lore states that our father had let her watch a circus on TV, and she thought it would be great to play high wire with a jump rope. She ended up with a broken arm.

Tuesday, August 12, 2008

Grossities

Grossities: noun. Disgusting things children do that they think are really great.

While drinking a cup of iced tea today, Monkey Son #1 coughed and the tea came out his nose. He seamed a little upset at first, so I tried to calm him by smiling and saying, "Did that come out your nose? Eww!" and laughing. Sadly, he thought that meant this was a really neat thing to do, and tried to convince Monkey Son #2 to do the same. Fortunately, Monkey Son #2 is too young to understand what he was asking.

Monday, August 11, 2008

Continuation of Child Phobias

Continuation of Child Phobias: noun. Childhood fears that carryover into adulthood.

Once upon a time, I worked in a library. It was a relatively small, two story plus attic stone building, built in 1890 and originally used as a bank. It was a lovely building, but certain things about it made it a little creepy. The stacks, close together, made it hard to see much past the area you were in. The second story and the basement were even more eerie.

This place only frightened me when I was there alone, which was a few hours on Saturday mornings when I opened. On one such day, I heard footsteps on the basement stairs. This wasn't a case of just thinking that I might have heard something, but I definitely knew I heard footsteps. I remember I was standing close by the basement door, but as to whether I went towards the noise (which is very unlike me) or I just happened to be there, I don't remember. Either way, I stared at the basement door as it opened and out stepped...Vince, the elderly and kind volunteer who, unbeknownst to me, had arrived before me and been doing work in the basement. If I hadn't given in to my fears, I may have figured that out, or at least had enough sense to leave the building when I realized I was not alone.

Aren't our lives filled with such stories? My grandmother tells a story from her childhood of what sounded like a tin can rolling down the stairs that led from her bedroom to the attic, but the source of the noise was never found. Not to be outdone, my grandfather told a story from his own childhood, saying that one night they saw a white sheet moving back and forth between the trees, which turned out to be a neighbor's cow.

Wednesday, August 6, 2008

Reign in Adult Speech

Reign in Adult Speech: verb. To make sure what you say is appropriate for little ears.

This morning, I took Monkey Sons #s 1 & 2 for a walk around the block, as I often do. And, again as I often do, I had to say to Monkey Son #1, "Watch out for the dog poop." Then he asked something like, "Is there dog poop?" which, of course, there was.

Now, there was a slight problem with the answer I gave him. I didn't curse, but my reply may not have been so appropriate for a four-year-old's ears.

"Yes, because some people are either too lazy or too stupid to clean up after their animals!"

Whoops. I flew off the handle there for just a second. People who don't pick up after their animals are a pet peeve of mine, and I find it really frustrating to have to clean off Monkey Son #2's stroller wheels and our shoes because of it. If you run out of bags one day, that's one thing. But, so often, it is no accident. Still, I guess I should have said something like, "Yes, but not cleaning up after your dog is rude, and that's why we make sure we bring bags when we walk our dog."

Monday, August 4, 2008

Common Sense Mistake

Common Sense Mistake: noun. A mistake a parent makes when they think they are following common sense.

How many times have you said, "It should have...," or "I never would have imagine that it would..."? You think something is pretty intuitive, only to find out that you have royal screwed up whatever project you are working on.

About two years ago, a relative of my husband came to visit us while he was in the area. He showed me a set of silicon bake ware that he picked up for his wife, and he must have thought that I liked them so much, that I should have one. Shortly after, he was generous enough to send me a set. Hey, I was hardly complaining, and still use the pans and spatulas he sent.

Now, here's where we run into the problem. You see, when I made muffins, they didn't really stick to the silicon muffin pan, but popped right out. I don't remember having to grease them, but maybe I did. Whether I did or didn't, all I remembered (it has been a long time since I made muffins) is that they simply pop out. So, when I went to bake Monkey Son #2's birthday cake a week ago, I did not grease the pans. They should just pop right out. What's horrible is Husband, as he watched me, mentioned something about it, and I just brushed him off. I certainly knew what I was doing.

I wish I had a picture to show you, but I think you probably understand what happened.

Friday, August 1, 2008

Cartoon Confusion

Cartoon Confusion: noun. The confusion a parent feels about a children's show or the characters therein, but the logic of which is either understood by or does not bother a child.

Monkey Son #1 loves PBS and Qubo. I can't complain too much about these channels, as most of their shows are educational, and I am at times amazed at what he picks up from watching them. Still, a couple of aspects of these shows just confuse or downright disturb me.

One example that comes to mind is PBS' Big Big World. It's a pretty good show, and if you've never seen it, it's like Bear in the Big Blue House, or at least it seems to me. In the show, several animals live in or near what they call the World Tree, which is located in a rainforest. The two parental or wise animals that guide the others are Snook the sloth and Madge the map turtle. Now, here's what gets me. There is a character named Bob, who is an anteater. He's very nervous and worries a lot, but the strangest thing is that he tries to be friends with the ants. Bob never eats the ants in the show, but it is still a bit disturbing to make friends with what you are supposed to be eating. After all, if I want a steak, I don't go down to the farm and say, "Hello, Bessie! How are you feeling today?" This, however, is what Bob does. Of course, Monkey Son #1 hasn't picked up on the absurdity of this.

Maternal Exhaustion (part 2)

Maternal Exhaustion: noun. That deep down completely exhausted feeling a mother gets just from being a mother.

This is the second time I've posted on this subject. That's because, occasionally, the Monkeys are up at night either constantly or for long periods of time. That's ok, because it's nothing Super Mom can't handle, but I won't lie and say I'm not tired or feeling lazy.

11:00pm: I'm finishing up everything I need to do and going to bed.

11:45: Monkey Son #1...sleep walks, I guess. I hear him crying and wandering around. I find him in the hallway, sitting and crying. He says he pinched his hand. I take him back to bed, but he's unwilling to go, and keeps whining that he wants me, but won't tell me exactly what's wrong. I try to calm him down and tell him that I'll make him a bagel for breakfast. In his sleepy and rather confused state, he says, "You said something...um...bagel. I want a bagel." So, I ask if he's hungry and he tells me he is. I take him to the living room and get him a banana. As he sits on the couch eating, he wakes up a little more.

I ask him about his hand, and he tells me he didn't pinch it. But I get him back to bed, but Monkey Son #2 is awake from all the commotion, although he may have never gone to sleep. I leave, and Monkey Son #2 seems none too happy, and his crying makes Monkey Son #1 cry. I'm trying to calm everyone down, and notice that Monkey Son #2 keeps staring at something behind me in the area of the closet. I turn, and I see what looks like a floral print dress move. There is no floral print dress in the closet (nor do I think I even own one). As quick as I saw it, it disappeared. This would be a good time to point out that when I'm very tired, I tend to see things.

Eventually, I get everyone settled down and go back to bed.

1am: Monkey Son #2 is up and crying. He seems pretty awake, and I take him out into the living room. He plays for an hour, occasionally hitting me in the head with toys. At 2am, he is back in bed.

2:06am: Monkey Son #2 is crying again, and I'm hoping and praying that he'll go to sleep. He does.

6:45 am: Monkey Sons are both up.

For as little sleep as the Monkeys got, they both seem to be in decent moods. And I wouldn't trade a night of sleeplessness, especially if I get to be with them in the morning.