We thought we’d give him a “task,” so he’s walking Tuck.
Don’t worry, I have a firm hold on her leash at the base.
But he was very proud of himself & it gave him an excellent distraction
from attempting to bomb dive off the couch.
These people wish there were no open container laws.
I could write it out, but a picture says 1000 words & I need another cup of coffee.
p.s. I’m not an artist.
p.p.s. I had way too much fun making bedhead & “highlights” in my hair.
This essentially sums up our weekend.
That’s mud. The only shit in this picture is the ‘tude sported by the toddler. By the way, I finally understand why some animals eat their young. I’m kidding.
(kind of.)
I feel disloyal complaining about Harrison being two or a toddler or all boy because 90% of the time, he is an absolute joy & my BFF. Fomer difficult baby = supreme awesome toddler. But then there’s the occasional day where he wakes up with a rabid bee up his ass & it’s like he did lines of pixie sticks & rage.
Saturday was that day. He woke up piss-angry at the universe & with Doug playing in a golf tournament all day, it was ALL MOMMA ALL THE TIME. He’s all NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO, ANYONE BUT THE LADY WITH THE BIRTH CANAL & LOUD LAUGH. I made him pancakes for breakfast – he threw them on the floor. I turned on Curious George – he screamed for Bob the Builder. He begged to go outside – it was pouring rain. We had a showing so I scrambled to straighten before heading out the door, sweating & looking a hot damn mess. We hit up Chick Fil A, his favorite sliding spot but since it was 10:30, there were no other “babies” there. Cue more you-killed-my-puppy-&-served-it-as-stir-fry tears. Came home & put the kid in bed where he threw the most epic rebellion since the American Revolution & 5 minutes after he finally quieted, God decided it was an awesome time to play a joke on me.
So it thundered.
Long story short, I opened a beer at 5pm on the nose & had the kid in bed by 7:30pm. When Doug got home late (thanks to the rain), I was pretty much drooling into a pillow with rat nest hair. But that’s just motherhood some days…it’s a freaking war zone & you come out with as few scars as possible & praise God that you’re still alive.
& that you didn’t serve toddler with sides of green beans & biscuits.
(Then I’m mid-writing this all down but he begs to be rocked before bed & I ask him if he wants Momma to tell him a story so he says, “yeah, cool” into the crook of my neck & my heart putters out. I’m totally ready to do this all over again tomorrow.)
1) I dare not breathe, turn on the television, anything above a conference call whisper & key tapping….anything that gives away my direct location.
2) I lock myself in the bedroom/office & he physically attempts to beat down the door to get to me. Wails of torture from both parties ensue.
3) He uses intimidation & manipulation to prey on my weakness, all in hopes of getting me to open the door for a direct attack. This includes cries of “MOMMA!” & shoving Matchbox cars under the door.
4) Out of food & toilet paper, I must make the decision – open the door for a run to the kitchen & risk being spotted, or wither without supplies for the rest of the day?
5) Should I open the door, any moment could be the end of my existance workday.
ahhhhh, he got me!
If you’re following me on Twitter, you know the personal hell our family of three has been facing for the last two weeks:
It’s called a toddler that decided sleep is for the birds.
That was at 4am. He finally conked out at 4:30am.
He has two nightlights.
It’s not night terrors (those have an entirely different cry).
He has loveys.
He’s not hungry or thirsty.
He really doesn’t need to drop his nap because he’s not napping 50% of the time anyway.
Basically? He wants to eff with us. Which might be a strong sentiment except I’ve only had one cup of coffee & four hours of sleep.
(also, the difference between a newborn being awake all hours & a toddler being awake all hours is the amount of noise. when a newborn is awake, at least one parent can sleep. when a toddler is awake, even folks in china hear him.)
It started innocently right around the time I lost my job & we feel for the little guy because it’s obvious he feels the stress in the house. There have been a lot of changes in his wee world over the past few months & my heart goes out to him. First Daddy was home a bit, then we were both at work, then Momma came home & he’s overjoyed but missing his Auntie & why isn’t anything the same anymore?! But Momma needs her REM cycle back & more importantly, the kiddo does too. After nights of rocking & rocking & rocking in the small hours of the day & Doug camping out on a pallet in his room, & purchasing a star turtle & giving him warm milk, we realized yesterday that it was time to pull out the big guns. All three of us were at each other’s throats constantly from pure exhaustion. I snapped at Harrison, something I very rarely do. So Doug & I shook hands & decided that last night was the night.
We dusted off our Ferber book & got the stopwatch on my iPhone working.
We turned Harrison’s lock around so that we could lock him in, thereby taking back control of his ability to leave his room. (shall I pause here & clarify that we still go to him, but it means homeboy can’t sneak out at 3am? good.)
We took out his workbench & garbage trucks.
I turned off his light at the fan so that he can’t party all night long under a ceiling light. (oh buddy, did that piss him off!)
& we hit the sack by 9pm.
I got a pretty awesome workout going back & forth to his room last night, calmly telling him to “Get back in bed, it’s night-night time.” Tuck him in, give him a pat on the back, & close the door behind me. I’m hoping that tonight it won’t take 2 1/2 hours for it to sink in that Momma ain’t fooling around. Also, this is what we woke up to this morning:
I think it’s fair to say he was pretty ticked that Harrison Rave 2012 was thwarted.
____________________________
& in good news, the reason that Momma can’t hang at 4am anymore is because I got an offer from Microsoft as a contract for their marketing department.
SAY WHAT?!
It’s a contract so I’m still on the hunt for a full-time job with bennies. The great news is that the contract is on my terms as far as how many hours I work per week & when the contract ends & they fully understand that I am still looking for a job. So Harry is with his Auntie a few hours per week so I can log in some hours at home & take conference calls & keep interviewing with other companies. What’s that you say, Charlie? WINNING.
Remember how you didn't want me as an admin? That's cool. Microsoft thinks I'm worth bringing in to their marketing department. So have a seat, please.
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