Why bingo should never be played by toddlers

A hectic Saturday is always a good thing. Especially following a giant poo of a Friday exhaustion-wise. We all slept like a bunch of bad ass mother-f’ers. That had done a bunch of bad ass mother-f’ing things. Or I did anyways.

Vince had his last soccer game this morning followed by an epicly chaotic soccer celebration. It misty-rained through-out the whole game and Vince was his bipolar-Gemini best/worst. Post-game, we gathered in the cafeteria @ the Y for treats and each little soccer player was paraded out on stage and given a trophy. It was a wonderful end to 10 weeks of what I was pretty sure was going to be hell.

Our second stop of the day was on the other side of town, near one of my girlfriends house. Last year, we took the kids to a fall festival in Oakland, which is a little town a few miles from Winter Garden. It’s kind of a Halloween-slash-Fall festival, with a little bit of town pride thrown in. Very kid oriented, with lots of activities for the little ones.

Vince dove right in. He made a trick-or-treat bag, he painted a pumpkin, he ran around and played a bunch of very silly games. He ran himself ragged on the playground. He ate popcorn and cotton candy. He got cranky and started to turn into a bit of a beast.

And as this beast was manifested itself, I decided to use our last game tickets (which were for bingo).

In retrospect, what on earth was I thinking. Seriously. Three year olds do not need to learn how to play bingo.

It was awful. He wanted to colour the whole card. He wanted to colour numbers that didn’t exist and then got mad at me when I couldn’t find them. He wanted to sit on my lap, he wanted to get off, he wanted to sit on my lap again, he wanted to sit in his own chair, he wanted to sit on just one of my knees, he wanted to sit on the other knee. I wanted to pull my hair out.

We were both covered in marker by the time someone else won. And thank god they won quickly, because I honestly wasn’t sure how much more I would be able to take. And looking over at my friend with her 3 year old perched on her knee, I could see she was in complete and total agreement.

We left. Quickly.

What on earth was I thinking! Bingo? Toddler? This is the worst equation ever. Even trying to describe it still doesn’t come close at all to what the reality of it. My mother sent me a message that said something along the lines of “I did the same thing with you, only it was checkers…”

Ugh! Mum! Checkers? If I had any doubts about us being the exact same person, they were immediately dispelled upon reading that note. Checkers might be the 1970’s equivalent of my bingo experience.

Anyways, I will never do it again. I swear.

V went to sleep so quickly this evening, how delightful! I do so enjoy a busy Saturday…

xoxo a.m.

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….

 

 

 

Confidence

We are in crunch mode this week.

Moving into our new house in approx 5 days and 6 hours…. give or take. Things are feeling a little hectic and surreal over here on this side of town.

Yesterday our new appliances were delivered, turning our gaping hole of a kitchen into a sleek, awesome room of efficiency, filtered water and cool poses at the automatic ice-maker (in-door of course). Installation of our new washer and dryer turned empty upstairs cupboard with slightly dirty floor into cupboard of high-tech cleaning devices clearly made on another planet. Some kind of crazy Dr Who-like planet. With Darleks.

It transformed our house. It is freaking me out. I can’t stop freaking out.

On the freak out horizon is V’s latest efforts to walk . He is trying so hard. He will take the odd few steps by himself, but clearly is more comfortable on the floor crawling like a mad man. We are currently encouraging him to walk at every opportunity. And he welcomes it. He will happily cling to your finger and walk like a seasoned pro. Let go of that finger though…? And he will topple right over.

He is just not that confident yet on his feet.

How confident is he opening doors? He is the King of Confidence-town.

Yesterday we walked upstairs, went into Mummy and Daddy’s new bedroom and shut the door. Mummy wanted to take a good look at the bathroom off the master suite. She put V down and walked 2 steps away from him and turned her back for 15 seconds.

In that 15 seconds, V crawled over to the door, opened it and made it half way down the stairs by himself.

Mummy just about had a heart attack. Holy crap.

Must lock all doors. For Ever.

We went from a handle to a knob on both the front door and back because of this. Then we installed baby gates. Oh the blood and sweat of Pop-Pop that went into the installation (and keeping V away from the installation). Thank god though… now all we have to worry about is the taps on the tub.

The taps that he can apparently also turn on. I have these awful images of him closing the bathroom door and turning on the taps and falling in.

Now is the time in my life where I become MOTHER. The super all-seeing, all-observing and all-knowing mother that can hear a tap turned on 3 miles away. Or a door opened and closed. Or a window opened. Or anything.

No sleep for me ever again…