Tag Archives: three

Smartass

"Mother, I would rather be playing Angry Birds".

So Vince has turned into a smartassed hellion…

You know, not suddenly, it’s been a gradual process since he hit 3 in June. But it’s here. It’s like the precursor to 13, and by that I mean ‘three’. It’s the toddler equivalent of the early teen stages.

Right now, everything has a smart answer. And of course I realize that he has no idea what he is really saying, but lord have mercy it’s making me crazy…

Case in point:

“No, I can’t take a bath, I’m too good”. “No, you can’t do that, you’re too little”. (said to me, if you were wondering). “No, I can’t eat that, I’m too dirty”.

“Maybe later, when I’m clean”. “Maybe later, when you’re taller”. “Maybe later, when I’m older”.

And finally…. “You can’t say no to me! You can only say no to strangers!!!”

That is currently my favorite. Today brought us this lovely conversation, which is in the running to become number one…

*while practicing our kicks for the first season of soccer*

Mummy: “Vince, did you know that your Tita is a really good soccer player?”

Vince: “No, Tita plays music and I don’t want to listen to it…”

I had to hold in the smirk for this one, it was just so blatantly grumpy and pouty. I think we were trying to leave the park when this witticism was uttered.

There has been increased demands and increased dislikes on everything and regarding everything. And if he is refused, he starts crying for the parent that is not there.

Vince: “Mummy, can I play Angry Birds on your phone?”

Mummy: “No, not right now”.

Vince *sobbing*: “I want my Daddy…. MY DADDY!!!!!”

Mummy: *eye roll*

I think I could go on and on, but do you really want to hear it? Because, most likely, it’s going on in your house too and you are as sick of it as I am. I am sure it will just morph into something more ridiculous in a month or so and I’ll complain about it too….

You know, the usual.

xoxo a.m.

 

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Please be my friend…

 

So since Vince turned 3 1 1/2 weeks ago, things seem so much different. I wonder if every parent notices this at this landmark age? And by landmark age, I simply mean a further continuation of the hell that was 2 that has now become 3.

But by hell, I really mean ‘fun’ and ‘awesomeness’.

Three is terribly interesting. Three means rather a lot of interesting conversations about a lot of interesting things.

Sometimes it’s about dinosaurs:

Vince: “Mummy hurry! The dinosaur is gonna get us!”

Mummy: “Oh my gosh, it is? What should we do?”

Vince: “We gotta hide!!”

Sometimes its just random arguments, politely worded..

Vince: “Mummy, I’m just gonna do this ober der, ok?”

Vince: “Mummy, I’m just gonna stand on dis right here.”

Vince: “Mummy, I’m just gonna take this from here.”

Mummy: “No. Vince, please don’t do that/take this/stand there.”

Please don’t open the fridge and try to pour your own milk. Please don’t carry my weights around the upstairs and state “Mummy!! I’m stronger!!” Actually, its OK that you do that. I love it. Please don’t sweep my floors. Please don’t pull the dogs tail, he will bite you for sure. Please don’t cry, I know the dog just bit you. Please talk to your Nana on Skype. Please say ‘hi’ to your Grandparents on the phone. Please, please, please…

It is just a huge, endless session of ‘please’. Mostly followed by ‘no’. Interspersed with dinosaurs and frogs attacking whomever is nearest. Frequent exclamations of “Mummy! I did a HUGE poo! Come see!” (and subsequent clapping).

Is this starting to sound like your life? Are you me? Are we the same person?

Not that I dislike it, it’s new and interesting. I like new and interesting things. I like Vince. Hence, I like this new path of ridiculous.

Today as a Lexus van drove slowly past our family walking, I thought “Based on seeing us, they probably are not going to move here”. Vince in a wife-beater with a monkey, combat shorts and dinosaur rubber boots, Edward in practically his underwear and myself in a tank-top I used to wear when I was hugely preggos and capris printed with flamingos…

Don’t you want to be our neighbors and friends? Don’t you want to share the joy of ‘3’ with us? Aren’t you already doing the same thing that we are?

We are JUST down the street. In fact, we are your neighbors already.

xoxo a.m.

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Extended lifecycle

 

Somehow it ended up happening. Our son’s life cycle extended itself another year… Despite somehow running into every wall known to man, sliding along surfaces on his stomach that are not the least bit slidey and those periodic weeks where he ate nothing at all… He is still alive.

He (we) survived.

Today, Vince and I hit up the pediatrician for his 3 year check. Every year is something different. Year one and Year two were mainly about shots. That I remember, anyways.

This year I actually had to get him to pee in a cup. Oh all that is holy, why, why  is this even needed?! Five minutes in the potty with Vince was required. I had to count to ‘almost three’ several times, hold the cup inside the potty for potential aiming purposes and thI literally had to ‘place’ the cup in the area. There was ‘cupping’. And with cupping, suddenly came pee. So much, in fact, that I was afraid that the cup would not contain it all.

V: “DADDY!! I pee in a cup!!”

Daddy: “Good job Little Man!”

And that really was the highlight of the afternoon. Peeing into containers is an awesome symbol of mans achievement. And peeing.

Post-pee, Vince was surprisingly cool with everything his doctor could throw at him. Check my ears? Sure! Listen to my heart? Why not! (All I could think during this mostly was ‘who are you?!”) Look in my mouth? No. No, actually, you cannot do that. And don’t lie about counting my teeth like Mummy said you would. BULLSHIT.

But I have no issues with you checking out my scrotum. At all. Typical.

Anyways, the verdict is he is huge. 75th in height and 95th in weight. And, flatteringly enough, she said his developmental skills are genius as is his verbal communication. And then he was cheeky and said a couple smart comments to her which made her laugh.

Yay Mummy and Daddy. I guess that’s what you get when you have two English Majors that marry each other and then procreate. And, post-creation, epically push books slash reading at every possible moment.

So it’s good. V is clever. V is amazing. V is Awesome. V: Genius.

Clearly I gave birth to the James Bond of pediatric yearly follow ups. Nice.

Nice work V!!!

xoxo a.m.

 

 

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Filed under amazing!, epic, family, glorious, Mad skills

*insert adjective* day

I wonder if this will sound like I am repeating myself.

Vince is two.

Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.

Ahhhhhhhhhhh.

Ah.

AH.

And then? After all that screaming? I pulled my own hair out in the middle of CVS drugstore while wrestling my child. And then? Shortly after, I  dropped him off at daycare and went to work.

Work, honestly, was less out of control than my child. And so it was with relief that I walked into the office yesterday morning.

Let me rephrase. I am in control of my child. Or at least I am pretty sure I am. However, walking through the make-up aisle at CVS with Vince, a child who woke up at 4 am crying and screaming yesterday morning? Not the best idea. How I got out of there buying only  2 items (one of which I had actually come in for) I will never know.

I think he touched every single lipstick in the store.

Note to readers: Don’t buy lipstick at the CVS on Narcoosee.

And that was followed by “Vincent shake-shake” of all Tic-Tac packets at the till. So maybe don’t buy those either.

Anyways, I went to work. Surprisingly things were not as stressful as they were at CVS. And this was also a shocker. There are usually at least 4 emergencies during the day and at least one screamer. And then a handful of other ridiculousness. All of which was handled with aplomb. Because, to be honest, it was nothing compared to a public wrestling match with ones child.

And then a temper tantrum in the parking lot. And then a screaming fit in the car on the way to ‘school’.

Oh, and I went running before all of this happened. And the fun part was that V woke up at 4, crying, and spent an hour sleeping on top of me. Actually on me. Lying on my chest with his head snuggled in the crook of my neck.

I am glad he was sleeping. And so was Edward. Although, neither of us did and ‘apparently’ he woke the second I snuck out of the house to go running. I might as well have just blasted the alarm in his ear. I was, literally, tiptoeing down the stairs… hat in hand, carrying my socks and iphone.

My stealth tactics leave much to be desired. I clearly need to be more ninja-like.

I got a HUGE side-eye from the Mister when I got home at 6 am. And then a HUGE story about how V tantrumed until I came home.

And then I went to work. And despite all of the total chaos, typical of Wednesday, it was like a freakin’ cake walk.

We are only 2 months into 2 years old. Will 3 be any kind of inmprovement? Will it even matter at that point? How will I get through the next 10 months?

Suggestions are always welcome…

xoxo a.m.

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