Uncontrolled Giggling Is Always Bad
It’s really a truth that I have known for quite some time, but I was hopeful that today the unabashed giggling coming from upstairs was just the girls having innocent fun.
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It was the end of naptime, the Big One asked if she could get the Little One up. I said yes and told her I was going to get the mail. Our mailbox is across the street. It takes about two minutes to get the mail and get home.
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As soon as I came back in the house, I should have put the mail down and marched upstairs to see what all the giggling was about. Instead I was dumb and sat down on the couch.
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As I sat on the couch listening to the giggling (actually enjoying the giggling, it’s fun to hear them have so much fun together), I started to get a very bad feeling.
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Last week when they were giggling like this, they were coloring on an antique table and walls upstairs. I knew that there were no pens, so I was a bit concerned, but not overly concerned.
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Then I heard the following:
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The Big One: Mommy, I am really sorry. I got all wet. My clothes are wet. My hair is wet. I’m really , really sorry Mommy. I didn’t mean to get wet.
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The Little One: My panties are all wet (to the Little One, “panties” are pants, not underwear, she is still in diapers!)
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The Big One: I’m really sorry Mommy. I am all wet.
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By now I was upstairs and standing in their bathroom doorway. Both sinks are filled to the brim, the counter is dripping wet and there is a good inch of water all over the bathroom floors.
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I couldn’t even say anything. Of course, they thought it was hysterical. They were practically rolling on the floor laughing, while I just stood there not knowing where to begin.
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I needed to get them out of the bathroom, but was afraid if they moved they would slip and fall on the tile. I certainly didn’t want to pick them up to get them out of the bathroom because I didn’t want to get all wet.
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So I grabbed a stack of towel, threw them all over the floor and told them to get out. They laughed all the way back to their rooms, while I unstopped the sinks. Mopped up the floor and contemplated putting them in time-out or just letting it go.
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I am tired, I don’t feel well, so we just let it go. I told them to change clothes and come downstairs. Then once they got downstairs I explained that the next time the Big One felt the need to “clean” one of her toys it might be best to ask for some help.
Please Assure Me It’s Normal
So tonight I was getting the girls ready for bed. We did our normal routine and were wrapping things up. The way it works is this ~ we read a book, then we rock a little, sing a little and pray. After that the Little One gets tucked in bed and then the Big One gets tucked in bed.
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As I was trying to get the Little One tucked in, she suddenly says, “I’m sick! I need to puke in the toywet!” And then ran with her padded little feet into the bathroom.
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Before I can even react, the Big One races past me in the hallway exclaiming, “I want to see! I want to watch {Little One} puke!”
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Seriously? Is it really that much fun to watch someone puke when you are four? Please someone reassure me that it is completely normal little kid behavior to want to watch your sister (or anyone ) puke.
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And thankfully for the record, there was no puke. It’s been about 90 minutes since this proclamation was made. Unfortunately, I can pretty much guarantee that I will NOT sleep tonight because I am still anticipating the puke.
The Art of Tattling
The Little One mimics just about everything that the Big One does. So it’s really no surprise that the Little One attempted to “tattle” on the FixItMommy today.
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It’s actually quite funny.
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I was putting away some of our Christmas decorations. We are leaving the tree up until the Husband comes home, but some of the other stuff needed to be put away.
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I was cleaning up the Little People Nativity Set and the Little People Little Drummer Boy Set, much to the Little One’s chagrin. Then I did the unthinkable, I packed up this musical penguin that she has claimed as her own. When you squeeze its hand, the thing sings, “Jingle Bells” and rocks on its sleigh bottom.
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The Little One freaked out screaming and crying because it was HER penguin and it needed to stay out. It clearly didn’t belong with the Christmas decorations.
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I told her it was for Christmas and just like the other things we would get them out again next Christmas. She was not happy with me. Next thing I know, she picked up one of their play cell phones and said this:
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“Hewwo, Daddy… Mommy put MY penguin away. That’s not where it bewongs!! I am not happy wight now!” And with that she slammed the phone shut and threw it on the floor.
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It took everything I had to not fall on the floor laughing at her. Once she “told” on me, she was fine and the penguin has already been forgotten.
Bugs and Standing on Chairs
Quite often in movies, women are portrayed as being afraid of bugs or mice or anything really. They all inevitably climb up on top of a chair and scream at the top of their lungs at the first sight of something moving. I am not that type of person. I am not a fan of bugs, but I certainly don’t scream and climb on furniture (for those of you who don’t “know” me on Facebook, I’ll share my black widow pictures as proof that I don’t run!)
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So I assumed that the chair-climbing reaction must have been taught at some point in time. Apparently I am wrong.
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This morning, the girls wanted to play in the bouncer, so I told them they needed to clean up the playroom and I would bring the bouncer in (it’s a bit too chilly to put it outside this morning).
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Just as they finished cleaning (really just shifting the big stuff to the other side of the playroom), the Big One spotted a bug on the carpet. She screamed, “MOMMY!!!! A BUG!” and proceeded to scuttle her way up on top of a small stool that sits at a little vanity in one corner of the playroom.
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Astonished at her ability to get her entire body up on top of this tiny stool, it took everything I had to not laugh out loud at her. Her fear was real, no doubt about it, but the reaction was hysterical.
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I have never in her life demonstrated that type of fear, so where she learned to scream and climb on top of the stool in beyond me.
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As she clung to the stool for dear life, I simply grabbed a napkin and picked up the bug… the classic part of the story. The bug wasn’t even moving, it was dead.
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I wish I would have taken a picture of her on the stool… maybe next time!
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Black widow picture to come
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turn away if you don’t like spiders
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I warned you
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This was in the garage… sorry for those of you who’ve seen it on Facebook (I will spare the photo of after she met with my shoe!)
Timing, My Kid Has Got It
Usually when I talk about the girls and timing it’s a case of how bad their timing is. You know how it is, when you want to go somewhere they decide to sleep extra long. Or just as you sit down for a hot cup of coffee they wake up. Or when they are supposed to be napping and you want to relax with a book, they suddenly forget how to wipe their own butt in the bathroom. Don’t deny it, your kids do it too.
Well, today I am thanking the good Lord above for the Big One having great timing. We spent two weeks in San Diego and today I was ready to get home. I miss my space. I miss my bed. I miss my flannel sheets. And I miss my super fast new computer.
So I spent a good chunk of time yesterday and this morning strategically packing all the Christmas loot in the mom-mobile. When you consider the hugeness of the dog’s crate, I really only have about half a minivan available to stuff. So it’s like putting a puzzle together. I had finally gotten the last bag strategically placed in the car. I told the Big One she needed to go potty and get her shoes on.
Well, of course Grandma was packing cookies for us to take home while this was going on. So naturally the girls asked Grandma for a cookie. She gave them one and sensing that I was ready to go, the Big One proceeded to shove most of it in her mouth at one time.
No, this isn’t the “good” part of her timing yet.
Right about this time, I spotted something else that needed to go in the car. So I grabbed whatever it was and headed for the front door, just as the Big One started coughing. I heard her run to the bathroom. Great mom that I am I assumed she realized that she needed to pee and was running before she peed her pants. So I kept going with the last bag of whatever it was and shoved it in the mom-mobile. As I walked back into the house, I heard the unmistakable sound of wretching.
The Big One was puking her guts out in the bathroom. I can only assume it was that she choked on the cookie and it made her throw up. Whatever the cause I have been thanking God all day that it happened just as we were getting ready to leave instead of just after we left.
Going Straight for the Heart {part II}
I told you before how the Big One breaks my heart sometimes. Well she did it again yesterday.
The theme at preschool was “joy.” The kids were asked to bring something to share that brings them joy. So the Big One chose her “Daddy Doll.” No problem, I actually thought, it was really sweet.
If only she could have just stopped there. One of their projects was to draw a picture of something that brings them joy.
The Big One drew a picture of Daddy and the Little One. That’s it. Nobody else. Just Daddy and her sister.
It would have been okay, again if she just left it at that. Instead she showed me and re-told me at least 10 times that it was Daddy and the Little One who made her happy.
Then to top it off, she called me “Ms. Elizabeth” not once, but twice yesterday afternoon. {That’s her teacher’s name!}
It’s nice to know what a large impact I have on her daily life!
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{I am saying this all in jest, I know that she loves us all equally… on some days!}
My PSA Regarding Flu Shots
The girls received their seasonal flu shot and H1N1 shot last month. So they are now due for their booster for the H1N1. I called Kaiser’s “Flu Hotline” and according to the recorded message flu shots are available Monday through Friday from 8:30 a.m. to 4:30 p.m. So I did my best to get the girls all prepared for their shot.
Well, apparently my best wasn’t good enough. I tried explaining that we need the shots to prevent the germs and bugs that are in the air from making us sick. I would have been alright had I just said germs. No I went and added the “bugs.” Oh my gosh, during the entire 20-minute drive to the doctor’s office, the Big One tried to grasp what I was saying.
She said, OH! I know what bugs make us sick, rolly pollies. We shouldn’t play with them.
No I explained not those kind of bugs. I tried again saying that the bugs were so small we couldn’t see them.
OH! You mean like lady bugs, she asked.
No, again I tried to retract my statement and attempted my explanation again just saying germs. I tried to tell her the germs can make us sick.
OH! Last time I puked all over the couch. The germs made me and {Little One} puke, she said.
I tried to back pedal again, I said well, I meant flu, not really cold, like when we have a runny nose, cough, watery eyes or sore throat.
I think she was getting tired of this routine so then she just said, “well I am going to cry when I get my shot.”
I told her it was okay to cry and left it at that.
So my advice to you is don’t try to explain why flu shots are necessary, just tell them because you said so.
My other bit of advice is don’t believe the Kaiser Flu Hotline. After all my explaining and preparation, we got there and the flu shot clinic is now only open Tuesday through Thursday.
Bathing the Dog With an Assistant
I don’t know why my girls are fascinated with the process of bathing the dog, but they are. They always rally to watch or help when I decide the dreaded event is necessary. Normally I distract them with the TV and then chase the dog upstairs, lock the bathroom door and do what needs to be done.
Today the Big One was at preschool, so it’s a bit more difficult to distract the Little One. I figured she would be able to entertain herself with the box of hair clips, bows and headbands so it might not be so bad.
So I trick the dog into getting close enough so that I could catch her. I heaved her up on my hip and ran for the bathroom. As I was running with the dog, I was encouraging the Little One to keep up with me. And then to close the bathroom door quick so that Gracie Lou couldn’t escape.
WHEW! We made it, the dog was in the tub and the Little One was in the bathroom with us.
Usually as soon as I get her in the tub, she just stands there humoring me. She doesn’t try to jump out or run away, she just stands there like a 50-pound statue. She will not turn when I want her to, she won’t sit when I want her to and she certainly won’t shake the excess water off when I want her to.
I was watching her eyes and she kept getting this look, like she was up to something. I couldn’t figure it out until she made a move to bolt. I peeked over my shoulder to see that the Little One had opened the main bathroom door. Oh heck no! I thought . So I grabbed Gracie Lou and told her to stay put, as I told the Little One again to shut the door.
Sounds nice and calm, huh? What I probably said was something along the lines of “if you value your life you will stay” although it probably came out sounding more like “don’t you DARE ” through clenched teeth and with fire coming out of eyes.
Now fortunately the way the bathroom is set-up, the double sinks are in the main part and then the toilet and tub and in a smaller corner with their own door.
There is no room between the toilet and me for the dog to really escape. I was blocking the doorway with my body. But I still had that moment of panic as the Little One continued to open and close the bathroom door.
Thank goodness, the dog has the fear of mom in her. Now if I couldn’t only get the Little One to respect that same fear!
{It’s a joke, I of course don’t want my children to be afraid of me! With the number of times I’ve had to catch the damn dog, she had better fear me!}
An Estrogen Thing
I think most, if not all of you can relate to this one. You know how as soon as you turn on the vacuum cleaner or the hair dryer, you hear the doorbell ringing or the phone ringing? Now 9 times of out 10 there is nobody at the door or calling you, it’s just your brain playing cruel tricks on you.
Well I used to just chalk it up to a “mom-thing.” We are so used to multi-tasking that I guess we imagine these noises knowing that there is no way that we can really dry our hair or vacuum un-interrupted, right?
Well tonight as I was vacuuming the playroom carpet for the 8 time in the last three days, the Big One started screaming, “I hear the doorbell! I hear the doorbell!! Mommy!!! The doorbell!!!!”
I was fairly confident the doorbell didn’t ring. And since I rarely answer the door, I really didn’t care. But it got me thinking. It must not be a “mom-thing” rather an estrogen thing that makes up hear things.
And just in case you are wondering, OxiClean seems to be the one thing to finally get the doggie diarrhea stain off the playroom carpet.
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