The Last 12 Hours {of Pure Joy}
For those of you who wondered what my life is like, here is a brief glimpse.
The Last 12 hours
11 ~ Times I played Jungle Jewels on FB before the fun started
10 ~ Times the Little One puked
9 ~ Loads of laundry
8 ~ Pairs of jammies the Little One went through
7 ~ Baths for the Little One
6 ~ Times the Little One tried to keep water down unsuccessfully.
5 ~ Times the Husband e-mailed to check on the Little One.
4 ~ Set of jammies the FixItMommy went through
3 ~ Cups of coffee for the FixItMommy
2 ~ times the FixItMommy tried Tylenol to bring the Little One’s fever down
1 ~ Dog bathed
My Apology to the Universe
A couple weeks ago, I told y’all how I gave the Big One a lesson in karma. Well, turns out I should heed my own warnings.
I had no sooner posted a status update on Facebook that said, “ {FixItMommy} could very easily go the rest of the day without hearing, “Mommmmmmmaaaaaaaa? ” when it happened.
I love my girls. I love that they are vocal, smart and opinionated. I love that they are perfectly capable or telling me each and everyone one of their wants, needs, desires and issues. I do realize how incredibly fortunate I am.
I simply wanted a little quiet time.
I am sorry. I will not wish silence again.
And now my FYI for all of you to go along with my apology: A brand new 64-ounce unopened bottle of 100% grape juice will bounce when dropped on the tile in the kitchen. The problem does not lie with the bouncing in and of itself. The problem occurs when the top of the bottle shatters on the first bounce and the entire 64-ounce bottle of 100% grape juice continues to bounce on the kitchen floor.
And before you ask, no I did not take any pictures of my grape juice explosion. I was too concerned with getting it mopped up before the dog walked through it and tracked it all over my house. I was also watching in horror as my grout got darker and darker with each passing second. Seriously, who picks light colored grout???
I Must Be Naive
I had no idea how smart preschool-age kids can be. I really thought it would take a while for the Big One to get so savvy.
Boy was I wrong.
The kid knows how to stall at bed time. Nobody modeled this behavior, she just figured it out.
She already tries to play Mommy and Daddy against each other. When the FixItMommy tells her NO, she immediately goes to Daddy and puts her bottom lip out, bats her eyelashes and says sheepishly, “Daddy, can I pleeeeeeeeaaassseeee have _____________.” {Fill in whatever it is she wants.}
Today she pulled a new one on me. She was looking at some pictures a friend had on her Facebook page from Disneyland (one of my friends, hers aren’t on FB yet!). When she sees pictures of Disneyland she asks if we can go there. Again I really don’t know how she really figured out that there was a place filled with rides, Mickey Mouse and lots of fun, but somewhere along the way she did. And for several months now has been asking to go.
So as we looked at these pictures, she asked again if we could go to Disneyland, today. I told her that no we could not go to Disneyland today. It’s a very special place and we will make plans to go someday when she is a little bigger and definitely a day when the Daddy was here to go with us.
Her response, “Well, you NEVER take us anywhere. Daddy likes to take us places. But you NEVER take us anywhere!!!”
I was shocked. Number one where in the world did the teenage attitude come from? Are you kidding me? I NEVER take them anywhere? What planet does this child live on? Especially with the Husband deployed, I take them everywhere. And I don’t just mean to the store or errands. We’ve been to the park, to My First Gym, basketball, preschool, friends’ houses and that’s just the last week or so. She is so abused, I NEVER take them anywhere. Lord help her (and me) when she is 15.
The Schedule Patrol
The Big One is a stickler for schedules and routines. Just ask her poor preschool teacher who hears about it any time she varies the routine.
I know this and am prepared for this most of the time. We really do work with the Big One on the concept that people can do things differently and still have the same result. For example, when getting her some juice, I tend to fill a cup halfway with water, then fill the rest with juice. The Husband does it the opposite. He does juice first and then water. Well on more than one occasion the act of putting juice in first has set off a complete meltdown.
As I said we are working on it.
Today I sorted the laundry into three piles just like I always do. I then started the washer and proceeded to pick up the dark clothes and put them in the washer first.
As soon as the Big One saw what I was doing, red flags and sirens started going off in her brain.
“MOMMY! You are supposed to do the white clothes first! What are you doing,” she asked in sheer disbelief that I had the audacity to start the dark clothes first.
I explained to her that I didn’t have enough for a load of whites yet, so I wanted to make sure I got her new space jammies washed (she’d been asking me for three days now to wash them). And all was good in her world again.
I think next time, I’ll just let her do the laundry. She apparently has the system down.
What’s Wrong With this Picture?
I’ll give you a hint. While the Albertson’s brand of bubble bath is a travesty for serious bubble bathers, that is not the biggest problem with this picture.
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The problem with this picture is that, this is MY bathtub. Not theirs. Why are their farm animals and tea sets encroaching on MY bathtub. Why, I ask? Why? Is nothing sacred anymore?
Preschool Drama and Karma
Oh man, the Big One is trouble. She got put in timeout at preschool yesterday. She was being mean and breaking apart something the other kids were trying to put together. She was also fighting with her best buddy over a puzzle.
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What am I going to do with this kid? I know it’s all fairly “normal” stuff.” I know that she needs the social interaction. I know how much she loves going to preschool.
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But man, I don’t want my kid to be the bully. It’s kind of amusing because she is one of the smaller kids, yet she seems to be the biggest instigator of trouble. She must get it from her Daddy.
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As I struggled with impressing on her how important it is to treat people nicely and to share, I remembered this conversation we had a couple days ago.
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Big One: Mommy, am I going to turn into a Cheez-It someday?
FixItMommy: Yep, if you keep eating them like you do.
Big One: So my name would be Big One- Cheez-It? (trust me it’s much funnier with her actual name inserted there, if you know it, say it out loud!}
FixItMommy: I suppose so.
Big One: Well, I don’t want that to happen because I want to keep going to preschool.
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Well if she wants to keep going to preschool she better learn to be nice. It was classic though last night after me harping on her to be nice and share and all that stuff, the Little One kept antagonizing her. The Big One was building a sandcastle in the sandbox and the Little One kept stomping on it.
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As the Big One grew more frustrated and aggravated, I asked her how she felt about what the Little One was doing. She said “mad!” So in true FixItMommy fashion, I explained karma to her, hoping maybe it would resonate better than my other attempts to encourage good behavior.
Please Can We Have One Quiet Night?
Dear Little One,
I don’t know what it going on with you. I can’t figure out why you screamed for three straight hours yesterday evening. I am perplexed as to why you keep waking up in the middle on the night crying.
This is my plea, though. Please play hard enough today that you crash and sleep. Please eat your dinner carefully so as to not bite you check or tongue or whatever happened last night during dinner. Please let me get some sleep tonight.
Love,
Mommy
UGH! Y’all the Little One is killing me. She has been up every night for the past four nights. I am tired. When she was itty bitty and awake at night, it didn’t bother me so much. She was so little we could snuggle in the rocking chair and both fall asleep.
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Now once I calm the crying, she is climbing all over me, sticking her fingers up my nose, playing with my hair, chatting and generally being unruly. I am tired.
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Last night, I was having a heck of a time falling asleep. I was tossing and turning and flipping and flopping. After about two hours, I gave up and came downstairs. I think part of my problem is the Husband being gone. I love my big bed all to myself, but last night it felt really big and really lonely. So I decided to try and get some sleep on the couch.
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I trucked downstairs, thoroughly confusing Gracie Lou who thought it was suddenly play time. I get the dog calmed down, lie down on the couch and get snuggled under the blanket. Just as I am dozing off, there is a huge thud from upstairs. Are you kidding me?
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The thud wasn’t followed by crying, so I knew she hadn’t fallen out of bed. I tried to ignore it, but couldn’t. So I tiptoed upstairs. I check both bathrooms hoping that a suction cup had given way and that’s what made the noise. No such luck. Then I checked the Big One’s room. I hoped that maybe she had knocked the sippy cup off her bookshelf next to the bed. No such luck.
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The Little One was asleep and quiet, so I did NOT want to go in her room. Of course the paranoid FixItMommy worried that she had gotten out of bed, and knocked something over and was now lying helpless under a dresser drawer or something, so I had to go in.
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She was stirring in her bed and I could see what happened. She had turned herself sideways so she was laying across short length on the bed. She must’ve turned over or twisted just right so that her foot that was resting on the edge of the crib, slipped through the slats and whacked the wall.
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I knew I couldn’t leave her like that because, from experience with this one, I knew that if she turned again she would get her leg stuck. So I had to move her. I had to get her leg back in the crib. Of course that woke her up completely, so we ended up rocking and singing for the 4th night in a row.
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Yes, this time it was partly my fault. But I am convinced that had I left her, she would have gotten stuck and woke me up anyway. Oh man, I feel a nap is in order this afternoon.
Weird Dreams and Behaviors
The Husband has only been gone a week, but the girls are already acting strange. I don’t know if they are normal phases or if it’s because Daddy is gone, or if it’s a combination of both.
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A few nights ago at bedtime, the Big One started whimpering and freaking out a bit saying that she didn’t want any mean animals to knock on the door, come in and eat her. I have no idea where she would have gotten the notion that animals were going to come in her house and eat it, but she is pretty freaked out by out.
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After the animal thing, she morphed it into a “mean man coming in and killing her.” This one freaks me out a bit. She is pretty sheltered in terms of TV and what we talk about around her. We don’t even watch the news with them (except occasionally I have The Today Show on). So I don’t have any idea where she got the idea of someone killing her from.
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Although, about a month ago, she got angry at the Little One and told her that she was going to “kill her.” I flipped out with that comment. That is not something she has ever heard me or the Husband (or any other family member) say. She said that one of her friends at preschool says it. So we talked about it and what it means to kill someone and that we never say that to anyone because it’s a really mean thing to say.
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So she didn’t say it again; Until a couple nights ago in the context of someone killing her. I’m not sure where the fear is coming from and how much of it is “normal” for this age. I do know that I’ve haven’t slept for crap the last few nights since she said it. I promised her that Gracie Lou and I would keep her safe and now I can’t sleep.
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The Little One has been uber clingy at night. Ever since a few nights ago when she woke up screaming, she has not wanted to go to bed. She insists that two nightlights are on in there and screams, cries and clings to me as I try to put her in bed. I can usually calm her down by rocking for a few minutes, but it is exhausting to go through every night.
The Cost of A Morale Call
The problem with two blogs about life is sometimes determining where to post things. So I opted to post this lovely story on My Deployment Diary because it all started with a Morale call. So if you want to read today’s entry, you have to go over there.
Another First for the Little One
As the girls get older, the “first” are getting fewer and farther between. They’ve outgrown most of the typical firsts, of course there are still plenty to come but it’s been a while since we’ve had one.
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The Little One delivered last night and I’m not sure it’s a good thing. I need to do some reading (or one of you fabulous readers can enlighten me) as to what age night terrors can begin. I don’t know what happened in her room last night, I just know that at 11:15 p.m. I was awakened to blood-curdling screams and gasps from the Little One.
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She often fusses at night, but usually she just works it out. Gracie Lou used to jump up at ever noise the Little One made, but even she is used to an occasional outburst. But last night, the dog got out the door before I did. I think she was afraid too.
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When I got in her room, she was sitting up in her bed screaming, “Mommy, Mommy, Mommy.” It was not a whiney scream. It was a petrified scream. Something spooked her. Scratch that, something freaked her the heck out.
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I scooped her up and held her tight. She latched onto my body like there was no tomorrow. I am quite surprised that I don’t have a bruise on the back of my arm where she was clutching me.
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As we rocked and I tried to soothe her, she trembled and cried and gasped for air. After about 6 minutes she finally started to calm down. Here eyes were open, but they were a bit glassed over, so I don’t know if she finally woke up all the way to know I was there or what was going on.
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I just know that it scared the bejeezus out of me.
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I tried to talk to her and ask her what happened. All she could tell me was the she bit her tongue. She has certainly bit her tongue before and it didn’t elicit that type of response. So I don’t know what it was. I just hope it doesn’t happen again, for her sake and mine.
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