First, the evening started off with a bang:
But we had some snuggles & life was okay again.
But then this happened:
So he laid down on the bathroom floor & gave up on this day. I didn’t blame him.
Until this happened:
I can’t make this shit up.
Pretty much the most pitiful post ever.
9 May posted by
I could look at this two ways – I can either wallow around in awful motherhood misery, or I can thank my lucky stars that it took us almost 19 months to make it to the emergency room with one hell of a rowdy boy.
On Saturday morning, Harrison took a slide down three stairs & landed with at hump on the hardwood floors. He cried a bit, of course, & let me snuggle him close as I wiped away his tears. ”Alright, buddy,” I consoled. ”Let’s go get dressed so we can go outside!”
“Ouu?” he asked hopefully as I dressed us both in jeans & Converse. We headed to the park to meet Brandy & her boy – the boys swung happily in the swings until two birthday parties bogarted the entire playground. (which immediately changed Brandy & I’s perspective of playground parties — they’re kind of rude, no?) Harrison seemed grumpy, but I explained that he had woken up an hour early & then taken a spill. Once home, he ate lunch & settled in for a nap. An hour later, he woke up screaming & mad. In an attempt to placate him & save our sanity, we took him outside once more to let him play on his swingset. ”There’s something wrong,” I worried. ”See how he’s favoring his left hand? He won’t pull up with it. Or put weight on it.” Nate agreed. Two hours later, we emerged from the Emergency Room with Harrison’s first x-rays & sling.
Who knew they even made slings that tiny?!
He fractured his wrist when he fell – the doctor said it looked like he must have landed with his wrist under him & was more of a weight-on-hardwood-floor type thing rather than him bracing himself for a fall. It’s kind of crap luck that other kids fall down a full flight without a scratch & he fell three steps & got a broken bone, but it just proves that he really is my kid. He’ll be in a splint for a week, then move to a cast for four weeks. It should heal nicely & the doctor assured us that this type of thing is way more traumatizing for the parents.
Nate, of course, is worried about the month-long setback to Harrison’s golfing career.
I pretty much felt like a sack of moldy pancakes that I had hung out with my kid the entire morning & not really noticed it. Just another notch in my “Mom of the Year” belt!
On the other hand, it’s not exactly slowing him down.
As a bonus, Tuck is steering clear since he packs a pretty hard plaster whollop.
I like to think that my kid rarely gets sick because he chugs penicillin.
5 May posted by
I have this thing with Harrison’s straw sippy cups.
As in, they’re nasty as hell & I hate them.
For months I thought that my kid would never drink out of a cup. I offered about 10 different kinds of “training cups” only to sigh in exasperation at his shaking head & stubborn refusal. Friends offered suggestions. My husband told me to be patient. The pediatrician recommended tossing all bottles out cold-turkey to create thirst. Finally, PRAISE THE LORD, the child put down the bottle & picked up the Nuby.
Glory be!
Goodbye, bottle parts! Goodbye, bottle sterilizer & bottle brush & formula dispensers! Freedom from your year-long tyranny!
oh.
wait.
I have to wash sippy cups & the dishwasher won’t do an adequate job?
They have even MORE parts than Avent bottles?!
damn.
They never seem to get clean enough. I’ve come to the conclusion that straw cups are really a toddler’s petri dish. So can I rationalize it that I’m being a responsible parent by injecting him daily with penicillin from an unwashed cup? Because yeah, he might be formula-fed & as a result be in line as the Russell Brand of 2059, but he’s going to be a bacteria-fighting machine by the time I’m done with him.
Yet every morning, we pour coffee into travel mugs & milk into a cup & set off on the road. As I throw life into my veins with hot French Roast, Harrison quietly drinks milk in the backseat while watching Curious George. About 20 minutes into the commute, a familiar ::thump:: occurs as he tosses the emptied drink aside. Milk into child = complete. All is right with the world.
The problem comes about 24 hours later when we load up in the car the following morning & realize that yesterday’s sippy has now glued itself to the car floor with milk residue. The even bigger problem comes three days later when we realize that we’re all out of Harrison’s cups because a) they’re in my car or b) rolled under the sofa. & by that point, a HazMat team needs to be called.
So we disdainfully carry the cups in, hold our noses, & unscrew the lids. Scrub, scrub, hot soak, scrub, soak again, scrub some more, dishwasher run, another soak. With the occasional “OH MY GOD, JUST THROW IT OUT!” when we deem a cup totaled & the effort to clean it is not worth the $3.47 to purchase a new one.
& then we promise to never let it get this bad again.
Until three days later, of course.
::gags::
30 Nov posted by
Dear Tucker,
I….I can’t even look at you. I can barely even address you at this moment because the moment I start thinking about how your breath must smell, I begin gagging.
Tonight, I changed Harrison’s diaper & laid it on the dresser, wrapped up in a little ball. I foolishly figured I would deal with it after bath time & went to join in the giggles & splashes coming from the other room.
BIG MISTAKE. BIG. HUGE.
After the bath, our little family of three laughed our way into the nursery when Daddy asked, “Where’s the diaper?” Horror filled our faces. I ran out of the nursery, down the stairs, up into the loft. Only to find you….you….I can’t even type the words. I AM GAGGING.
YOU ATE SHIT, DOG. You purposefully pulled down a diaper, took it into another room, opened it up, & DINED. YOU EFFING DINED.
No wonder you smell like a fart on a daily basis, you little shit-eater.
But I still love you. I think.
love,
Momma
I love this day so freakin’ much.
21 Nov posted by
- Woke up warm & toasty with sunlight pouring in.
- Baked biscuits & gravy with the boys.
- YoBaby is a YO-HELLZ-YEAH according to Harrison.
- The house is fabulously clean thanks to Nate taking Harry out to do boy things, like Home Depot & farting, while I stayed home & tackled the house in an hour.
I curled my hair & put on my Frye boots. Nate called me a sex kitten.
(Steppin’ Out Saturday: jeans from Old Navy, tshirt from Magnolia Bakery in NYC, sweater from Limited. Tummy pudge? Harry. Awkward stance & pained smile? all mine.)
- Harry & I went out on a “date” to give Nate some quiet time.
- I sipped on a Pumpkin Spice Latte; the boy had some organic apple juice.
- We also got some Christmas shopping done.
- We sang Cee Lo in the car. (Okay, I sang. Harrison’s ears bled.)
- Except Nate. I’m stumped with him. What are you getting the men in your life?
- Grilled ham & cheese for lunch. With colby jack & sliced ham.
- We played out in the backyard. Tuck zoomed circles around us while Harrison got deliciously boy-dirty.
- Giggles & sunshine. Camera snaps & dog barks & the smell of earth.
- I baked cupcakes for Mrs. Lusher’s birthday. But sadly discovered that someone, not me, had already dipped into the Rainbow Chip icing.
- Harrison melts my heart every time I watch him lay down beside Tuck & put his head on her belly. Watching their friendship grow is one of my favorite parenting moments.
- Homemade meat loaf & mac n’ cheese with a side of peas.
- Chocolate chip diapers.
- His eyes, heavy with sleep. & me knowing that our days of nighttime bottles are ending, so I soak it in.
- & now ending my day with a cup of tea on the couch with Nate. The house is warm & inviting, ready for the week ahead.
- I am content.
