Lies you tell your children (and other things I regret)

Lying to your kids.  For  ladies and gentlemen of my generation? Well, it’s a new thing.

For our parents? They are seriously thinking “Oh darn, they’ve finally figured it out.” And they mean us. If you just started lying to your own kids, this means you just figured out that your own parents lied to you.

Case in point: a few months ago, Vince and Edward were playing with the light switch in V’s bedroom. Flicking in on. And off. And on. And off. Andonandoffandonandoffandonandoffandonandoffandoff.

“Guys!! Don’t do that! You’ll start a fire!” I shouted dramatically. Which is, apparently, the only way I know how to shout. Unless it’s at work. Then I shout calmly. With dramatic license. Maybe that’s the same thing…

Edward looked at me. With humour. “It’ll start a what? What will it start Jame?”

“A fire. It’ll start a… hmmm… fire. Ya.”

“And who told you that?”

“My Mummy. My Mummy told me it would start a fire,” I said, petulantly, like a 3 year old. A three year old who knew they were wrong.

“Jame. Your Mum totally LIED to you,” Edward stated fake solemnly. Bastard. Seriously for years. YEARS. I thought that was the truth. It’s the little things, right? It was just a small lie, one that you’d forget about, one that would just become ingrained… (But regardless, I’ll still blame my husband)

And so, apparently, we all carry it on.

This past Christmas when we decided to take the tree down, we did it overnight. So when V woke up in the morning, it was gone. Coming downstairs, he was rather surprised.

“Mummy!! Where’d da tree go?!”

“Santa took it, back to the North Pole baby. Next year, he’ll bring it back.”

“Mummy? Where da weeth go?? And da lights?”

“Santa took the wreath and lights, baby. To the North Pole. But he’ll bring them back in December!”

“Oh, ok Mummy!”

And that has worked for several months….

This last week or so?

Whole buildings have disappeared. Random items from the house. Dirty underwear. Garbage. Chewies toys. Etc etc…

“Mummy!! Santa took it!! He took the building! And da fire truck! And da Christmas Dog movie!”

“No baby, no he didn’t” (Although, ‘Santa Paws’ can stay with Santa. I don’t want it back. Stupid movies about dogs with magical Christmas powers…)

Etc etc.

Santa apparently has taken everything or is about to take everything. Vince doesn’t say too much about him bringing those things back. I wasn’t trying to make him out to be a bad guy, just trying to find an explanation for why these things disappeared over night.

So it has now turned into a constant re-imagining of life. Because Santa can and, apparently, will, crop up and take things. He will TAKE IT ALL.

And NOT BRING IT BACK.

I can just see years worth of either therapy or lying ahead of me. Probably lying. Lots and lots of lying. Hopefully not therapy. Could be expensive…

xoxo a.m. (the big fat liar)

Civil

As a newly Southern girl,  I have been fascinated with the Civil War.

Apparently not fascinated enough to actually read about it, just sort of a general fascination. A ‘Hey! Look! It’s another brown ‘historical site’ sign! Wanna stop?” kind of fascination.

I was starting to get into reading about it, then I got pregnant and my brain would only allow fiction. Preferably trashy fiction.

And where is this all leading? Well, it leads to our little family heading off to a Civil War re-enactment a few miles down the road.

M and I stumbled upon a little park near Lake Toho in Kissimmee a few weeks ago. It was full of all of the things we like: Cows, random Bible prayer groups and Dixie flags.

Post-Dixie flag enjoyment and, actually, right next to the flag, there was a sign for the upcoming Civil War Re-enactment.

“M!!! We should totally go!!” I shouted in the passenger seat, directly into his ear.

“Let’s!”, he shouted back.

Ok, I know this isn’t an Enid Blyton book so he totally didn’t say ‘let’s’. But it was something similar, and said with a lot of enthusiasm.

And so we went. And it was more interesting than I ever thought. There is a whole different type of class of rednecks that attend these things. So that was interesting.

And I learned things. Gunfire is very loud. Explosions are extremely hot. The cows were relocated. Small boys in Period clothing are adorable.

V did not enjoy the gunfire, but he didn’t hate it either. He happily cuddled with his Pop-Pop until it was over. and then he said “Wow!” He said ‘wow’ several times actually. I guess it’s good to expose these  Southern boys to gunfire at an early age so it’s no big surprise…

That way, you know, they can be properly Southern. Hmmm, perhaps we need some more Enid Blyton exposure to balance out.

In due time… in due time…

Check out here for some Civil War action heros

Check out this for Florida’s role in the war…

Fever, again

Mummy? Change me. NOW.

As I type this, my eyes are closed. There is a glass of Merlot in front of me. Julia and Julie is playing on the Blue Ray. V is sleeping. I just finished sauteing some scallops for my salad.

Key phase in above ramble? ‘V is sleeping’

3 days of super sick baby, Mummy has now reached an insane level of ‘over it’.

Except, Mummy can’t be. Not like Mummy is when Daddy gets sick. Nope, with Little Booboo, Mummy is always on.

Wednesday morning was a low fever, Wednesday evening it was 100 degrees. Thursday early morning it was 101. I stayed home that day with the sick Little Man. It was awful. Fevers scare the crap out of me.

Thursday was a ‘Motrin’ day. And a ‘Tylenol’ day. And a “Mummy, I need a cuddle’ day. And that is how I always know my V isn’t feeling well, when he searches out Mummy’s lap and snuggles down.

Thursday afternoon was 102 and Friday morning was 103.2.

POINT TWO! POINT FRIGGIN’ TWO!

Jesus Christ, how can anyone’s heart take this sort of thing?

And then I had to go to work.

And M took him to the Doctor. Bad sinus infection and a molar coming in. How Dr E even managed to get into his mouth to look, I have no idea. I can barely get a toothbrush in there. One time I had to remove something(s) (paper, pennies, dog kibble, pieces of wood, dirt from the floor etc) and I swear he almost severed my finger. Baby teeth are sharp things.

So apparently those 2 things are enough to raise ones body temperature.

Sooooo… amoxicillin, Motrin with alternating doses of Tylenol, decongestant cough/nasal drops, Singulair tablets AND Pulmacort nebulizer treatments.

Last night, while I was dosing the Little Man, I couldn’t believe how many things I was administering to him. Basically 5 (or 6 depending on how the day is going)  different things. Seems like an awful lot for one small body.

Something which was rather apparent to me this morning. Let me fill you in on last night.

Last night, post-bath, as I went to diaper and pj the Little Man I discovered there WERE NO DIAPERS upstairs in his bedroom. Which actually meant that there were no diapers in the upstairs. Which meant there were no diapers in the house. Carrying a naked baby downstairs, I rifled through the diaper bag and found 2.

Oh thank god. One for tonight and one for the morning. And then M would be up (from his double shift) and I could do a run to the drug store and it would all be ok.

So this morning, at 7:30, it was not. My morning started with some hard-core grunting. Oh say it ain’t so. Say it ain’t so!! But the smell said otherwise. Of course, being that the last diaper in the house had just been put on a small bum, it only made sense to use it. Apparently immediately.

Oh sick child of mine, we now have an endless supply of diapers and you can fill them to your hearts content. Which you will. I know you too well.

Virtuous

Today I took a vitamin.

I cannot even begin to share my joy with you that I finally remembered to. I bought them about 2 weeks ago and they have been sitting forlornly on my counter, giving me puppy-dog eyes whenever I walked in and out of the kitchen.

This evening, as I walked through the kitchen for the millionth time, I finally decided to open the package.

Horse pills, oh glorious horse pills. These were some seriously big multi-vitamins. And a sort of concentrated urine colour too. Not the most appetizing of appearances.

I choked that mother down and am feeling quite virtuous. I am a healthy mo-fo. (Or at least taking some baby-steps in that direction).

In my quest for other things that are virtuous, I found a few…

This quite interesting blog about thrifty living. And some cute tricks for putting together inexpensive decorations for the house…

I also discovered this wonderful book. ‘Virtuous Vampire’? How intriguing! To quote one reviewer “I loved The Virtuous Vampire. The heat and attraction between Abbie and the Alpha Male Lucan was hot and sexy.”

Hot and sexy. And apparently virtuous as well.

The more I googled about virtuous, the more it became clear that swallowing that vitamin maybe didn’t bring me quite to the level of virtuosity as these other women I ran into while surfing. A lot of Christians. Not that that is a bad thing, I was just surprised by the amount of passion for virtuous living and God. And breastfeeding.

I probably am not as virtuous as all these people espousing their love for God, clean and proper living (and behavior)… and, of course, breastfeeding.

Apparently I am on a different ‘virtuous life-style’ path. It’s a ‘eat lots of citrus fruit, drink decaf tea, takes horse-pill-sized vitamins,  exercise almost, daily drink lots of water’ life path. With yoga. And no breastfeeding.

To each his own, eh? (that’s a bit of Canadian for ya’ll… and that’s a bit of the South too).

Off to finish my decaf and crawl into bed to virtuously write my Xmas cards…

xoxo a.m.

Yoga

Finally over my nasty cold, I headed back to the YMCA tonight with firm intentions to become a regular. All of this is part of my plan of  ‘Atlantic rejuvenation’.

Mumma needs a boost, a jolt, a kick in the ass. Something to shake up my life, push me over the edge a bit. As if my husband doesn’t push me over the edge enough…those damn socks of his (I found one in the street this evening), and 2 litres of gravy?! Well, I won’t get into further details about THAT. Let’s just say its 5 days later and is still residing in my fridge. Feeling a little frightened about what it has become. 3 days ago, the last time I lifted the wrap and scooped some out, it was jello-like. Lord know where we are now…

I digress.

Yoga tonight was different than yoga previously. There is no Bikram over on this side of town, its just plain ol’ regular yoga. Something I haven’t done since around 2005. With my Mum. In Canada.

The class was low-lit, candles on the floor, kinda romantic and relaxing. With ‘hippie’ music playing (that’s what M calls it). There was no sweating. There was no barked orders and sharp clapping to signify position change. And also , she didn’t talk that much.

It was an adjustment for me. I guess I had become used to my Bikram instructors and their style of class. This new gentle style was certainly different.

I enjoyed it though and I feel so long and tall. And my back feels supple and relaxed.

Now that I have broken the ice with the Y, spinning class will be next. Never done it, but walked past a class this evening and was entranced by the sweating and barked orders. Um, clearly I need to be shouted at and to sweat my face off.

Care to hazard a guess about what this says about me? Need to be in a controlled environment. The only thing that would make it better would be for the class to come with a handbook and maybe some tedious paperwork to fill out.

Then I’d be in heaven.

Sparkle!

Please bless this home with sparkles and multi-colour shoes.

Things we do to our children.

For example, the things I do to mine.

Friday was a short day for me. Christmas party at work, a luncheon with ‘games’ and in my excitement at leaving work early I planned just a few extra things. Things that, in retrospect, should have just been ‘fit in’ on their own day. I was a wee bit determined though and we all know what that’s like.

Xmas photos at the mall (in the tropical thunder-storm that hit the area?! Sure! No problem!). Late night trip to the grocery store (late being 7 pm). Dinner at 7:30. Bed at 8 pm. This is all very unusual for all members in my household, especially the dog. I think he relies on routine and gets confused when things don’t go according to his plans.

I stayed up way later than everyone else.

And thought about things.

About the lady I met in the photo studio last night who exchanged Iphone apps with me. Thanks for ‘Hatch’! Her son was roughly the same age as V and I couldn’t help but notice that she was loosing her hair. She was much older than I am/was/will be.

Whatever that means.

Anyways…

About the photographer that made the most interesting noises I have ever heard in order to gain and keep Little Man’s attention. Good job! I didn’t even know those noises existed! And how do you learn them? And oh, how I don’t want to ever be a photog working at a place like that.

About how crappy driving in the rain is here. It might be the equivalent to driving in the snow on Vancouver Island. Despite the fact that it rains here a lot, no-one still knows how to drive in it. Hence my Island reference. Re: snow.

About how letting Little Man stay up until 8 pm equals me getting to sleep in until 9 am. Not such a bad thing.

Anyways, we got home late. The only thing he wanted to eat was banana and milk. Who am I to argue with him? We were waaaaaay beyond that point. We were at the point of  ‘nobody matters at all’,  least of all Mummy. At least he ate.

And Sunday was the same… but slightly more of ‘Things we do to our children’ and ‘What the hell were we thinking!’.

Both of these topics seem to come up rather often.

We went to Downtown Disney. For those not in Florida, it is a cute area, on Disney property but not attached to any of the parks. Movie theatres, shops, Lego stores, McDonald’s (apparently an essential), it’s all that kind of thing.

It was a no-nap day. Just a light snooze in the car, followed by french fries and chocolate milk (which is the hugest treat ever). V, in his sweater, had the run of the place. And then M had the brilliant idea to see if he liked cotton candy.

Well, he does. And sugar gives him energy despite the lack of nap.

We got back to Hunters Creek around 4 pm. And then home, after a stop at the grocery store around 5 pm. And what did we buy at the store?

A roast. Because on a Sunday night, around 6 pm, this is clearly the perfect thing to slide in the oven. At the time we were discussing it (3:30 pm) it was! And sounded so delicious!

When we got home (5 pm), and put it in the oven (6 pm) it seemed like the beef was a dream. And a stupid dream at that. We had sushi for dinner while the roast cooked.

And we had Roast for dinner tonight. Way to plan!

Things I thought about today…

About how demanding people are. Is it an American thing? Not sure, but the kind of screaming that I face on the telephone is the equivalent to a toddler tantrum. People pout and fight when they don’t get their way. To be honest, it’s rather annoying. I would rather V have a temper tantrum in the middle of a busy street than talk to some guy who can’t understand why his post-nasal drip isn’t cause for National Concern (sometimes you can just hear the capitals).

Or why we can’t see you ‘right now’. Or why you can’t  ‘just come in and wait….. it will only take “5 minutes”‘. Pretty much this is every conversation that I will be having until years end.

About how I missed my BF Shanaenae* today at the office. Naenae, you know I need to see you every day.

It’s moving into that time of the year. Yes, that’s right. It’s Nature’s Menstrual cycle. Everyone gets bitchy. And the closer it gets to Xmas and New Years, the worse it gets for all of us making appointments and doing things of other Nation Concern to random people. Bastards.

How I felt sad that V ran into daycare this morning without a care in the world. I literally was like “Oh. Ok. Um….. Um. I guess I’ll go now…” Meanwhile V is happily playing without a care in the world with another little boy. My feelings were just a little bit hurt. Just a little. *sigh* Ok, a lot.

But miraculously, I felt waaaay better this afternoon when I went and picked him up and he immediately dropped everything he was doing and ran to me. And then clung to my legs.

THAT’S what I want to see!!!! Pure dependency!

All it does is cement that my little man is growing up. And that, probably, I need to have another baby.

Lord, please bless this home with a feminine child.

Mumma needs to buy sparkly shoes for someone…

*Girl, I am only using your Ghetto name for privacy reasons….

Big Kids

V wants to play with the big boys and girls.

This was fairly evident yesterday when I took him to the park. Happily playing with Mummy in the park, we literally were going down dual slides ‘hand-in-hand’. It was like the ideal vision of quality time with Mummy. I was having so much fun. So was he…

And then, the big kids came.

First it was 2 girls, maybe around 10 or so… Screaming and yelling, they ran into the gated playground shouting things like “I’m gonna kill you!” and “You’re such a bitch!”.Ah, tweens…

V was dumbstruck… He toddled in their direction, at first a little tentatively… and then full throttle. He was fascinated by them. All of the loudness. He wanted to be right in there. And they wanted to have nothing to do with him. Because they are big kids. Didn’t even make eye-contact with him, or say ‘hi’ or comment on how cute he is…

Wherever those big kids went, he did too. He climbed higher on the playground than he ever has before, just trying to follow them.

And then 2 boys joined them.

The conversation immediately changed to things like “You’re such a girl” and “I kicked her in the vagina” and “Stop trying to kick me in the vagina”.

I could not believe that they were all throwing the vag about. And they were 10. And they were proud about it too! Like kicking someone in the vagina was the cool thing to do. I feel confused.

Anyways, V thought everything about them was awesome, as evident by the look on his face.

Playtime was done and dinnertime was approaching, we headed out of the playground and meandered in the direction of home. V meandered a little more than I did… Big kids are distracting.

He lagged further and further behind me. I was attempting to do some reverse psychology and so kept walking away saying “Bye bye V! Bye bye!!”.

This was ineffective. It probably would have been more effective on anyone else’s child. He grabbed a toy and ran back towards the playground. He ran up to the fence that surrounded the play area, right near where the big kids were playing. He took that toy and threw it through the fence, so it landed right near where the big kids were.

He said “Uh-oh!”. Ya right. Like that was an accident.

And then he ran into the playground and went and got it. And then he lingered. I had to go and sweep him off his feet and humorously run out of there with him (that means I make funny noises when I run. Noises like “Doodly -doot-dee-doot-dee-doo!! Whee!” and then I feel a wee bit stupid. (I am sure the big kids would agree.)

He was so mad that we left and kept trying to head back there. I eventually distracted him with my expensive phone. He might have put it in his mouth only twice. Don’t tell M. Please.

xoxo a.m.

Mist

Today I took the Little Man to a paint store. Sherwin Williams, to be exact. It’s a few blocks from our house and I am currently in the process of trying to eradicate all traces of the previous owners. The owners who apparently really liked the colours peach (and all shades there-within). The interior of my rooms look like someone vomited flesh all over them. So. Awful.

Manhattan Mist. Much nicer…

I love paint colours. Mostly just the names of the colours. So awesome. Wasabi breeze. Pine nut. Mint haze. Etc…

Anyways, Mist is what I picked for our bedroom. I sampled last weekend. Just a few spots. Alright….. I tested every single wall. Which made it tricky to not paint it in a timely manner…

Anyways. V and I went to the paint store. Unluckily there were a few people inline a head of us.

This was just bad news.

For the first 5 minutes this was not a bad thing. V ran around the store, found some buttons to push and he appeared to be having a good time.

Yay!

Let’s hope that this line won’t take too long.

Guess what. It did! Because the people in front of me had some trouble deciding on what type of paint they wanted. Even though they had been there way longer than I had. And had ample time to make decisions. Clearly no-one is as prepared as me. Colour sample swatches, paint decisions… I am ready.

V was too. He ran.

He found things on the floor to put in his mouth. He ran behind the counter to where they mix the paint. He ran back and forth in front of the door alarm, setting it off endlessly. He put more things in his mouth. Things he shouldn’t put in his mouth. Like screwdrivers. Rollers. Scrapers…. and other ‘paint’ utensils. Whatever he could get his hands on.

I literally could not keep my hands on him. Suddenly I felt like one of those ladies that I have seen around, with those kids that they can’t control. I might not be able to control my child.

Luckily the only people there thought he was adorable. And then they left before he had his tantrum.

Which was an awesome one, by the way. In case you wanted to know.

We left approx 45 minutes later. With paint. One major tantrum. A few extra pieces of garbage in my pocket (pulled from V’s mouth). Those rollers that he had put in his mouth.

We exited the store to the words “Wow, those little dudes sure have a lot of energy”.

This was coming from a girl of approx. 17 years old. Made me laugh.

So how do you do it? Police a child in a store full of pointy, chemically things? V is fully asserting his independence and will not sit in a stroller for extended periods of time. He also wants to dash into people, traffic, other peoples parked cars (that he likes to pat) and generally away from me. If I make a move towards him, he runs away. With a cheeky look on his face.

Argh!

Child of mine is a rather trying at times. But cute. So I don’t mind. I have this feeling that he might be taking after his mother right now. A cute pain in the ass.

Socks

My living room times a million

Finger up nose.

Pants around ankles.

Toothbrush in eyeball.

Socks on floor.

I think this sums up the week nicely.

1) Finger constantly up nose. Not my finger. And not my nose. All day. Every day.

2) V is currently 17 months. I refuse to buy him any pants small than 2t or 24 months. There is just no point. So last weekend I bought him some jeans, Levi carpenter pants (adorable). They only stay on if he is wearing shoes. Shoes seem to block those pants quick descent to the floor. I have to roll the cuffs up and that helps prop the jeans up on top of his sneakers. Nice.

3) In my efforts to promote good hygiene to my toddler, I’ve been gently promoting the toothbrush. Mostly as something just to hold and put in the mouth. Some brushing movements are made and I figure it’s a start.

Tonight, in his thorough excitement about his new toothbrush, he punched me in the eye with it. It hurt. I hope there is no bruising… Holy mother does than boy have an arm on him!

4) I might lose my mind about these damn socks. Can someone (besides me) pick them up?! All. Over. My. House.

Before V, there were M socks everywhere. Drove me nuts. Post-double shift socks were scattered everywhere. The dog finds them delicious. Still does. And V has inherited this from his father. Socks come off the instant they are put on. In the car. In the house. In the yard. On the sidewalk. Mid-poop. Mid-poop clean-up.

Poop-socks? Good times.

Click here to learn some valuable tips about socks… and how to wear them. Properly.

Mobile

That baby sheep in the middle, who looks like he's about to make a dash for it? That's mine...

 

The continued adventures of a mobile child…and his mother.

I might as well be his entourage, as I am always behind him. Currently he moves like rapid fire throughout, well, everything.

This afternoon we (I) decided to take a walk with the M.C. and the dog. Now, in hindsight, I shouldn’t have taken the dog, but the poor thing is just so desperate for any attention that he practically attached his own leash and walked himself in his eagerness to spend time with me.

So dog in hand, V and I went a’walkin’.

I had thought just to go around the block.

1/25th of the there… Oh look! Garbage! Mumma! Shall I pick it u…. oh. you got it for me… Thanks mumma.

1/24th of the way there. Oh look! The dog peed right there! Right there, Mumma… I think I’ll go over and walkright on top of it. Oh wait….. WHEEEEEE! I love it when you pick me up and swing me around!

1/23rd of the way. Mumma, there’s something out there in the street, I think I’ll go and get it.

1/22nd of the way. Mumma, there’s something out there in the street, I think I’ll go and get it.

1/21st of the way. Mumma, there’s something out there in the street, I think I’ll go and get it.

1/20th of the way. Mumma, there’s something out there in the street, I think I’ll go and get it.

1/19th of the way. Mumma, there’s something out there in the street, I think I’ll go and get it.

So this short walk that I wanted to take took FOR EVER.

I ended up with so many random pieces of garbage in my pocket. Rather in my pocket than in V’s mouth. And the poor dog. Mid-poop, V did a dash out into the road. I tried a ‘grab, bag and run’. And had no option but to stuff that filled poop-bag into my pocket. V was, at this point, in the middle of the street and giggling madly. Chewie was still in mid-squat but no-longer on the grass (poor dog). I had poo in my pocket. And some random Halloween garbage.

Half way back we encountered an awful combination of other dogs, other people and the road in front of our house. just the sight of this road is enough for Little man to do a fast dash for the middle of it. Collapse when I try and pick him up. Cry. Thrash. Cry some more. And then, at this perfect time, everyone in the neighbourhood walks their dog or turns onto our road and tries to park their car.

But can they?

Nope.

No, they cannot.

And why you ask?

As my child is having a tantrum in the middle of the street, effectively blocking any passage down it.

Hi neighbours! Please watch me parent my child in public! Please don’t judge me too much…

www.clusterflock.org

www.dadcentric.com

And if you are, go to the above sites and judge them too….