Being a parent is really, really freaking hard, and some days - like today - I feel like a miserable failure. Case in point: this afternoon I was blindsided by a comment from the 4 year old about death. Yes, DEATH. As in the grim reaper. Outta nowhere. I was showing him how you bleach a sand dollar (a sand dollar that has been sitting on our kitchen counter for almost a month now) and he said "Is it alive?" I said "No honey, it was at one point but it died in the ocean." He said "Well I can ask God to bring it back." Excuse me, WHAT?! As I picked my jaw up from the floor it hit me that this may be something he truly believes. Yikes. I've been meaning for months now to have a meaningful, well-prepared, much thought out conversation about death with him, but I didn't envision it over a Pyrex bowl of bleach and a dead sea creature. Nonetheless, I figured there's no time like the present. So, I started explaining to him that when something or someone dies, they go to heaven to be with God, and they can't come back, etc, etc. He got real wide eyed and informed me that his classmate H's orange cat died and went to heaven. I told him that her kitty is likely having a blast playing with God in heaven, and that someday when H goes to heaven, she'll get to see and play with her kitty again. Then the waterworks started. The bottom lip poked out and those big blue eyes filled with tears that almost made my green eyes fill with tears. He said he didn't want to talk about it anymore. I told him we didn't have to, and it's okay to be sad about things dying, but nobody or nothing is dying RIGHT NOW IN THIS MOMENT so he really didn't need to feel sad. Then I distracted him - in mother of the year fashion - by suggesting we go have that water balloon fight he mentioned earlier. Yep...it's time to find a good book or website or SOMETHING that will help me explain death to him, so any suggestions would be much appreciated. An extra dry vodka martini would be much appreciated, as well.
Just an hour or so later after the aforementioned water balloon fight, I was rushing D to get in the shower. The convo went something like this:
D - "I want to take a bath."
Me - "No honey, you're too dirty for a bath, you need to take a shower."
D - "I want to put on the clothes I was wearing earlier."
Me - "No honey, those clothes are wet and dirty and you need to put on something clean."
D - "Why am I always wrong?"
As I hung my head in shame and vowed not to say "no" to him so much, I tried to reassure him that he is NOT always wrong, it's just that...well...I know what's best for him and sometimes that's not the thing he has in his head. But I totally butchered that explanation as well so he probably now has a complex that will scar him for life.
In other cause-for-a-martini news, this morning, out of nowhere, my child said "I want a brother AND a sister." What the WHAT?? Every now & then he will say he wants a sibling after he sees his beloved Baby J or Baby M, but this was totally out of the blue and this was the first time he's mentioned TWO siblings. And what do I say to him? "Well, I guess you need to talk to God about that." Where did THAT come from?! Now I'm terrified that he WILL talk to God and God might just oblige him someday, and that scares the ever loving crap outta me! Especially because I don't know if I EVER want to increase the size of our family!
Please, fortheloveofgod, just let me get through the rest of this day without saying something permanently damaging or making him cry again. And please don't let ME cry. And, for the record, I prefer Ketel One in my martini.
Thursday, June 20, 2013
Friday, May 31, 2013
Swimsuit Malfunctions and Other Joys of Summertime
Today we had a pool playdate with a friend from D's preschool class. We went to his pool because his mom has 3 kids - the oldest being 4 - and logistically it was easier. For the love of all things holy, I don't know how she does it. I can barely manage getting ready for the pool and keeping my one child from drowning, much less two preschoolers and a baby. Schnikeys. Anyhow, I decided to wear my most conservative looking swimsuit because I'd never been to this pool before, and didn't want to offend anyone or feel out of place in a bikini. Seriously. I know that sounds weird, but it's just one of those anomalies of motherhood. Not 5 minutes after we got into the pool did I have a swimsuit malfunction. The strap on my top broke - the actual plastic piece that hooks into the fabric on the back - and suddenly my conservative swimsuit was far from conservative. Thank goodness we were the only ones in the pool at the time! The other mom had to hand me her baby and tie a double knot in my swimsuit to keep it up. It was like wearing a corset. I could barely breathe. When I finally took it off after we got home, I had deep red lines around my back and chest where the elastic was searing into my skin. Fun times.
On the way home from the pool, D told me he had water in his ears and asked if he could use toothpicks to get it out. Sure kid, whatever works. But you might wanna try Q-Tips first.
Why the heck did I tell D earlier today that he can NOT, under any circumstances, take a nap today? Well, I told him because I need to get him to bed insanely early tonight since we are waking up before the crack of dawn to run a race in the morning. But now it's 3pm and I can barely hold my eyes open - where are those toothpicks? - and I'm regretting the no-nap mandate. Because Mama needs one. Bad.
On the way home from the pool, D told me he had water in his ears and asked if he could use toothpicks to get it out. Sure kid, whatever works. But you might wanna try Q-Tips first.
Why the heck did I tell D earlier today that he can NOT, under any circumstances, take a nap today? Well, I told him because I need to get him to bed insanely early tonight since we are waking up before the crack of dawn to run a race in the morning. But now it's 3pm and I can barely hold my eyes open - where are those toothpicks? - and I'm regretting the no-nap mandate. Because Mama needs one. Bad.
The ABCs of a Tantrum
I am starting this blog, selfishly, as a creative outlet for myself. Because lord knows I will need a LOT of outlets this Summer while the 4 year old (we'll refer to him as "D") is out of school. My hope is that it will give other parents some satisfaction in knowing that their kids are not the only ones causing them to pull out their hair, and perhaps provide a little comic relief in the form of "ha ha, suckers, so glad we don't have kids" to my friends without little humans. So here goes.
Yesterday, technically one week after the last day of school (which D missed, unfortunately, as the result of a nasty virus), we met our friends J, V and BJ at the library to see a magic show. Now traditionally, magicians kinda creep me out. David Copperfield? David Blaine? Criss Angel?? I'm convinced they're going to come to my house one night while I'm sleeping, magically find their way in and perform the "slice a person in half" trick on me, though they will ACTUALLY slice me in half. Cree-py! Fortunately this magician was completely the opposite. No creep factor whatsoever; he was freakin' hysterical. I laughed out loud through the entire performance, and D even volunteered to participate in helping him with a magic trick. I was quite proud of the boy. Shyness doesn't run in my side of the family, that's for sure!
D was incredibly well behaved and patient during the performance, but afterwards, like mere MINUTES after it was over, he went totally insane. It was as though he'd reverted back to 2 years old. Screaming, crying, arm flailing - IN THE LIBRARY. For no reason. I gave him not one but TWO chances to calm down so we could stay (aren't I generous?!), otherwise I warned him we'd have to leave. No dice. I had to physically pull him out of the library by his arm and wrangle him into the car. Kid weighs like 38lbs now so that's no easy task.
The screaming didn't stop once we got in the car, or on the road, or on the highway. Not to mention we were almost 50 miles from home. Yes, FIFTY MILES! Every now and then the screams would stop for a brief second and when I looked in the rearview mirror, I saw a big yawn. Aha. Kid was worn freakin' out! I tried to coax him to close his eyes and go to sleep, but he wouldn't do it. Finally, and I have NO idea where this came from, I said "Do you want me to sing you a bedtime song?" "Yes!" he said. I hadn't thought this through because I really have no arsenal of bedtime songs. Haven't sung to him since he was an infant. And even then, I sang Pink Floyd and Collective Soul to him. I know, I know...mother of the year.
The only thing I could muster was a silly song that my husband made up for him. I started singing it, and he interrupted me immediately with "No, that's a Daddy song!!!" Fine. Let's try this again. The next thing that came out of my mouth was "Jingle Bells, jingle bells, jingle all the way!" I kid you not. Child once again interrupts me and screams "No no no! That's a Christmas song!" Third time's the charm, right? I opened my mouth and "Ring Around the Rosie" pops out. Crap. "Nooooo! That's a play song! Mama, what we need is the ABC song!" But OF COURSE! How silly of me to forget the quintessential bedtime song that is sure to lull a sleepy baby (or preschooler) into a sweet slumber - the ABC song!!! Can you detect a hint of sarcasm here?
So, now desperate and sweating and trying my best to remember to breathe, I calmly ask him to close his eyes and I bust out into the most quiet, peaceful version of the ABCs that I can muster. Well whaddya know, he was counting sheep before "Next time won't you sing with me." Dang kid.
Yesterday, technically one week after the last day of school (which D missed, unfortunately, as the result of a nasty virus), we met our friends J, V and BJ at the library to see a magic show. Now traditionally, magicians kinda creep me out. David Copperfield? David Blaine? Criss Angel?? I'm convinced they're going to come to my house one night while I'm sleeping, magically find their way in and perform the "slice a person in half" trick on me, though they will ACTUALLY slice me in half. Cree-py! Fortunately this magician was completely the opposite. No creep factor whatsoever; he was freakin' hysterical. I laughed out loud through the entire performance, and D even volunteered to participate in helping him with a magic trick. I was quite proud of the boy. Shyness doesn't run in my side of the family, that's for sure!
D was incredibly well behaved and patient during the performance, but afterwards, like mere MINUTES after it was over, he went totally insane. It was as though he'd reverted back to 2 years old. Screaming, crying, arm flailing - IN THE LIBRARY. For no reason. I gave him not one but TWO chances to calm down so we could stay (aren't I generous?!), otherwise I warned him we'd have to leave. No dice. I had to physically pull him out of the library by his arm and wrangle him into the car. Kid weighs like 38lbs now so that's no easy task.
The screaming didn't stop once we got in the car, or on the road, or on the highway. Not to mention we were almost 50 miles from home. Yes, FIFTY MILES! Every now and then the screams would stop for a brief second and when I looked in the rearview mirror, I saw a big yawn. Aha. Kid was worn freakin' out! I tried to coax him to close his eyes and go to sleep, but he wouldn't do it. Finally, and I have NO idea where this came from, I said "Do you want me to sing you a bedtime song?" "Yes!" he said. I hadn't thought this through because I really have no arsenal of bedtime songs. Haven't sung to him since he was an infant. And even then, I sang Pink Floyd and Collective Soul to him. I know, I know...mother of the year.
The only thing I could muster was a silly song that my husband made up for him. I started singing it, and he interrupted me immediately with "No, that's a Daddy song!!!" Fine. Let's try this again. The next thing that came out of my mouth was "Jingle Bells, jingle bells, jingle all the way!" I kid you not. Child once again interrupts me and screams "No no no! That's a Christmas song!" Third time's the charm, right? I opened my mouth and "Ring Around the Rosie" pops out. Crap. "Nooooo! That's a play song! Mama, what we need is the ABC song!" But OF COURSE! How silly of me to forget the quintessential bedtime song that is sure to lull a sleepy baby (or preschooler) into a sweet slumber - the ABC song!!! Can you detect a hint of sarcasm here?
So, now desperate and sweating and trying my best to remember to breathe, I calmly ask him to close his eyes and I bust out into the most quiet, peaceful version of the ABCs that I can muster. Well whaddya know, he was counting sheep before "Next time won't you sing with me." Dang kid.
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