Progression

A perfect mother never lets her 6 month old play with crayons.

A good mother never lets her 6 month old eat a crayon.

A halfway-decent mother would at least take the crayons away.

Um, instead of any of the above, this mother took pictures.  I'm not quite sure what that makes me...

(Crayon face aside, look at him sitting up by himself!)

Just When I Thought I Was on a Roll, I Realize Something Else is Doing the Rolling

This morning, the four of us were running around in various states of hurry.  Shaun was getting ready for another day of working on the downstairs bathroom, Bean was working hard at being three and asking me the same question a million times, I was trying desperately to get the kids and myself ready to walk out the door, and C was settling into her usual mischeivous ways. 

We live in a rancher.  The only set of steps in our house lead to the basement and have a door that latches closed at the top.  We keep the door closed at all times to prevent Miss C from toppling down the steps.  We've never had a problem remembering and often, we'll remind each other to double check when we see the kids round the corner to head into the kitchen. 

Until today. 

As Shaun and his friend were carrying things from a truck into the basement, the door didn't latch closed properly on one of their trips.  Because C is a magnet for mischeif, she knew.  And off she went. 

I had run into Bean's room for a comb and when I came out, C was missing.  Further investigation revealed that she had not only opened the door, but had carefully crawled about halfway down.  I didn't want to scare her into standing, so I started to go down the steps quietly and said, "C..."

She looked up, grinned, stepped backwards into space and tumbled down a half a flight of stairs, head over heels. 

I think I said a bad word or five as I raced down to check on her.  Arms and legs were moving fine so Shaun, who had gotten to her first, (I move slow, I'm a pregnant whale), scooped her up.  She was NOT happy.

When he handed her to me, she wanted nothing more than to snuggle up with her blanket on my shoulder.  I ran through my mental checklist of signs for concussions:

Sleepiness
Anxiety
Trouble Walking
Diziness
Drooping Eyes

And so on and so on... With each symptom that ran through my head, I got more and more alarmed.  She was sleepy!  And seemed anxious!  And definitely was having trouble walking!  It was almost like she was DIZZY!  I looked at her for a minute, panicking.

Then I remembered.  She's a toddler.  She has those symptoms EVERY DAY. 

Turns out, the kid is fine.  No concussion or other bodily harm aside from some scrapes.

Way to panic, Mama. 

Anything To Get Them To Eat Their Greens

My oldest does a good job of eating a vast variety of veggies. C's a bit pickier. So I try to be creative in presentation and sometimes it actually works.

Yesterday, I made a "green" smoothie* and accidentally dropped some ingredients on the floor. I started cleaning up but got sidetracked by a kid who needed help in the bathroom "RIGHTNOWRIGHTNOW!" and a baby who wanted DOWN from the high chair.

I put C on the floor, picked up my smoothie and sat down for a minute. Out of the corner of my eye I noticed C making a beeline to the corner of the kitchen but didn't think anything of it until I saw her pick something up and cram it into her mouth.

"C!" She looked at me, grinned and picked another thing up off the floor and ate it.

As I got closer to stop her, I noticed that she was picking up pieces of frozen spinach.

And yes, when I saw that? I admit. I hesitated on stopping her. Because really, GREEN FOOD! And wasn't this just a unique presentation? Hehe.


**(A green smoothie is a fruit smoothie with a few handfuls of spinach thrown in. You can get a considerable amount of spinach into the smoothie with absolutely no taste change whatsoever. Seriously! Give it a go if you need to get some greens in your kiddos. Or if you want to add a little healthiness to your own day).

Bad Mom Confessions - Episode 2

We just had an ice storm around this way that was delightful to me in every way except for the insane circus routine that it took for me to not maim, injure, or kill myself or my children when I had to load them in the car. 

But as with anything, I got used to figuring out the best places to step and it started being a lot funnier.  (Bean walked a fine line between giggling riotously and shrieking in fear when we'd start our trek across the frozen landscape.

Our roommate watched me loading Bean into the car one day and as I came in to get C in her bucket seat, she casually mentioned that it was icy enough that C car seat could be a good sled. 

I don't think she meant with C still in it.

When we got back outside, I scoped out the yard for hunks of ice and finding none, I gently set C's car seat down and gave her a little push. 

And then I scrambled after her quickly gliding car seat, cackling like a maniac.  She was grinning too, though probably because I sounded like such a goon as I slid along next to her.

Don't worry, I think her top speed was like, 2 mph. And her handle was up for a make-shift roll bar :)

Would I do it again?  Heck yes.  I was tempted to film it, but the weather got warm and the yard wasn't nearly as hazard free so maybe next time. 

Bad Mom Confessions 2

So yesterday, I spend a good fifteen minutes playing with this:

(The Leapfrog Alphabet Pal Catapillar)

Except, I already know all my letters and their sounds. 

I spent a good fifteen minutes on the "letter sounds" section trying to get it to sound out bad words.

Apparently, the good people at LeapFrog have great foresight AND a sense of humor.  If you start to get it to sound out a bad word, it will stop the actual sounding out process with a giggle sound effect and then resume making the letter sound.  That breaks up the total pronunciation of the taboo words. 

I think that made me laugh more than anything else.  (And yes, I tried to find words to get around the system.  Surprisingly, there aren't many).

Yes, I know.  I am easily on the mental level of a 13 year old boy.  Thank you.

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. 

Bad Mom Confessions - Part 1

Sometimes I tell Bean that things are too spicy even when they're not just so I won't have to share.

Bad Mom Rating: ?

1 - Bad? Of course not.
2. Not so bad, but a little onery.
3. Bad. Get lectured.
4. Badder than simple bad. Timeout corner.
5. BAD MOMMY. Totally grounded.

Weigh in, folks.