One of Those Days

Ah, motherhood.  Chock full of sunshine and rainbows, perfectly prepared peanut butter and jelly sandwiches (cut in the shape of a heart, of course), a spotlessly clean house, carefully planned activities with educational value and FUN, and stunningly groomed and well-behaved children. 

What, your house isn't like that? 

Yeah, mine either.  More often than not, you take everything on that list and reverse it and you have MY house. 

The other day was a doozy.  So many things happened in the course of a few hours, I can't even remember them all. 

However, I do remember having to make a phone call. 

Now, those of you who've ventured over here from my old blog may remember why I fear making phone calls when the kids are awake.

Toddlers have a sixth sense when it comes to phone calls.  Call to grandmom?  They'll whine a minute and maybe climb on you.  Call to boss?  They'll throw toys at their sister, sneak into kitchen cabinets, and shove stuff in the VCR.  Then they'll come climb on you.  Call to someone you don't know?  They'll make sure the person on the other end is intensely familiar with their shriek by the end of the conversation.  Call to someone you don't know after you have to be on hold for more than 10 minutes?  They will scream bloody murder and chase you from room to room for maximum effect. 

I had to call the doctor's office for some things that had me stressing about C.  They have a nurse help line where you have to go through a few menus and then leave a message and they'll look up the appropriate info and call you back. It takes a few minutes, naturally, to get to the answering machine. 

Bean was quietly sitting in the living room stacking blocks together.  I looked her in the eye and said, "I have to make a quick phone call.  Can you stay here and play and I will be back in a second?"  She smiled, nodded, and went back to her blocks.

I kid you not, the moment I heard the beep and began to talk to the answering machine, she comes flying in from the living room,

"MOMMY!  MOMMY! MOOOOOOMMMMY!!"

I pulled the phone from my face and whispered,

"I'll be right there, hang tight sweetie."  

Generally, that would work.  Generally, she'd go right back in the living room and wait for a second.  Generally, she's a completely rational child who does a fairly good job at following directions.

And then sometimes?  Sometimes she gets taken over by aliens and flips the heck out.

 This was one of those times.  No sooner then those words left my mouth was she on the floor throwing a fit.  A loud fit.  I walked in the other room and continued my brief message. 

She followed.  Come on, did you expect anything less?

And she got louder,

"I WANT YOU!! MOOOOOOOOOOMMMMY  AAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" 

Wash, rinse, repeat. 

Flustered, I finished my message and hung up the phone.  I truly think that there was smoke coming from my ears when I turned toward a very loud and very irrational Bean.  We each froze and sized each other up. 

It was like Doc Holliday and Ringo, staring each other down before their shootout. 

I'm not sure who moved first.

Suddenly, she was screaming and running away and I was screaming and chasing her, (having put C down, who was doing her own yelling), trying to discipline her. 

"YOU ARE GOING IN TIME OUT!  NOW!"

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"  She ran.  I caught her.  And in order to preserve my sanity and to prevent me from doing something ultra mean and slightly out of control, I put her in time-out. 

On the top of my dresser. 

Somewhere in my brain, I knew that if I placed her in time-out and she got up, I was going to lose my mind. 

So I plopped the screaming toddler on top of my dresser, and walked out of the room.  

And that kid sat there for a few minutes while I collected myself.  She screamed her head off, but do you know what?  She didn't move.   I capitalized on my kid's cautious nature and used it to my advantage.  Mommy - 1, Bean - 0

You know what she wanted?  She wanted a piece of candy.  A request that I would have refused even if I were off of the phone. 

(And before you get all cranky on how that wasn't safe, it was the low dresser... she was all of 2 feet off the ground)  :)

Sometimes motherhood can get a little insane.  Sometimes the mother can get a little insane.  And sometimes the methods used to restore order are the most insane of all.  But a little insanity never hurt anyone.