So Saturday we celebrated our son’s fourth birthday.
I know! I’m wondering not only how we managed to survive four years of parenthood, but also how we managed to survive our first party where we invited some of his friends.
It is, frankly, a miracle.
“Mummy!” Vincent shouted at me the other day, with real fear in his voice, “There’s a monkey in my nose!”
And what, you may ask, does this mean? It means he has a booger.
About a year or so ago this phrase evolved, probably from me saying something ridiculous like “You’ve got bats in the cave”. I frequently say things that border on the ridiculous to both my children. Who doesn’t? Isn’t that part of parenting? Making up explanations for wee folk who don’t really understand what you are saying? Most of the time, the more creative you are the better. Once we told Vince ‘Don’t crawl around under the table because that’s where the snakes are’ and we’ve pretty much never needed to worry about him doing that in a restaurant ever again. (Yes, yes, we are awful, I know. Whatever.) So how on earth did a playful “You’ve got a monkey in your nose” evolve into something that is a cause for major concern, in my son’s eyes anyways?
Today is going to be a great day. I just know it I woke up knowing it. Vince woke up super chipper. Eleanor woke up with gooey smiles. Clearly the day is already earmarked to be amazing. Hopefully I haven’t just screwed myself with my overabundance of optimism.
4 weeks into being a stay-at-home-mom and things are slowly starting to improve. Last week was a week of tough love. But that tough love seems to have created a little boy who is determined to listen to me. Hallelujah! I’ll let you in on my secret.
Formula, boobs, whatever… just as long as it’s in my tummy!
Breasts, such a tricky subject to dive in to. So let’s get at it.
Just about 2 more weeks left before I return to work and I have to admit that after Monday, right around 8:30 in the morning, I was positively longing for it. Mostly because there were people there that I could effectively communicate with. Most of the time, that is. And even if I did have to deal with cranky patients all day, surely that would be better than what I had just gone through.
I’m sure you are curious. Let me just say it involves urine. And a lot of it. If you aren’t that interested in reading about pee then I suggest you stop now. Because pretty much that’s what this whole post is about…
My son is a bit of a handful, to say the least. And upon reflection, that really might be all boys/girls/children right on the cusp of 4. I am pretty sure I’ve talked about this before, sorry if it’s boring. But I know you parents out there with children around this age are sympathizing. And drinking.
Vince has A LOT of energy. And A LOT of drama. And a NEW BABY SISTER. And a MUMMY WHO NEEDS MORE SLEEP. And I do my very best to keep him entertained and engaged as the days pass. We do some crafts, some scissor skills things, practice tracing letters and numbers. We do regular outings to the library and used book stores. We do all sorts of stuff.
So I figured Monday was going to be something busy. You know, because I plan Monday on Monday morning. Except I woke up exhausted and could barely get out of bed. What was that all about? I have no idea. Somehow I managed to bribe Vince to snuggling in my bed and watching Phineas and Ferb while Mummy slept. And then, once I was done that, take a shower. And it while I was taking that illicit shower that it began.