Friday, February 26, 2010

Recent Boy Meltdowns

Meltdown #1: In shoe store. Tried a pair of sandals on the Boy (in FEBRUARY, yes, we are wild and crazy). They were far too small, because somehow my child has gone from wearing a 5 to a 6.5 WIDE no less, and it being the middle of winter and all, they didn't have any in his freakishly large size. So we put them back. And he ssccccreeeeeeeeeeeamed. He wanted the SOOS, the SOOS! SOOS PEAS! And it didn't matter that we were getting him two fabulous and very manly pairs of toddler sneakers. He wanted the SOOS! I found myself repeatedly reassuring my boy child that we would indeed, come back for the sandals as soon as they had him in his size.

Meltdown #2: In our bathroom. There exists in our home a small stepstool from my childhood (so yeah, 30+ years old or whatever). It has a picture of some odd bearish creature riding, for some reason, in a train. On the stool is written, "Step up, I'm a stair, or sit down, I'm a chair." The Boy in his wisdom figured out that if this stool was placed in front of the bathroom sink, he could REACH the WATER and even hold his toothbrush IN the water oh my hell. So then it was bathtime, and we had the audacity to remove him from the stool to put him in the bath. A meltdown such as the bathroom has never seen. I basically threw some soap on him, splashed him with water, and hauled him out because GOOD LORD THE SCREAMING.

Not a meltdown, but funny all the same: Daily, in our house. The Boy sometimes needs to be given water in every single cup he owns, all at the same time. Then he drinks from them, one after the other.

This is definitely MY child.

Thursday, February 25, 2010

Helpless

So my nephew is sick. A few months ago, doctors discovered that his intestines, rather than being all nice and neat or however intestines are supposed to be, were uh...NOT. Yeah, I don't have any fancy doctor words here.
My nephew is 15 and has had a history of digestive issues. Seriously? It took 15 years to discover this?
He had surgery about two weeks ago, recovered, and went home. And then he started throwing up. Repeatedly. He had to go back to the hospital, where we were told it was "most likely" a blockage where his stomach meets his small intestine, and that they "hoped" it would clear up on its own. If not, more surgery. He's sedated and being fed through tubes and lines, with another tube emptying his stomach so the poor kid stops constantly vomiting.

I wish I could help.

The relationship between my sister and I (this nephew's mother) has never been good. She was the youngest for 8 years until I came along, and I think our relationship was pretty much sunk before I was born. We had to share a room. She never really fit in with my other sister and I, who despite being 11 years apart, were alike to the point where people couldn't tell us apart on the phone and our laughs were and are scarily identical. The sister of whom I speak did not attend my wedding. Or my baby shower. And did not meet her own nephew until he was three months old, and that was only because we happened to be at my parents' cabin on the same weekend that summer. We never got along. We never really tried (well, I did, especially once my son was born, but there are only so many times you can have a door slammed in your face).

As a consequence, I don't know my nephew and niece as well as I would like to. I wish I could be there to help. But I wouldn't be welcomed. And that just sucks.

Monday, February 15, 2010

Dude-isms

Because I never want to forget......



Tank oo : thank you
Wack-come: welcome
Guck: truck
Masa guck: monster truck
Bump guck: dump truck
Tootle: turtle
Mutmag: Nutmeg (our cat)
Side: outside
Chiz: cheese
Cheep: chip
Masickle: motorcycle

Friday, February 12, 2010

Bliss Week

This week, the Dude's sitter has been on vacation. What was first a nightmare of logistics has turned into an amazing, wonderful week, leaving me wishing that things could be like this more often.

Daddy was home with the Boy Tuesday and today. On Tuesday, they went to the children's museum and made a card for me (dying of the cuteness). Yesterday, my mother-in-law's sig other took on the Boy for a day. I'm sure he left our home needing a nap- but our Boy could not stop raving about "Say-um. Say-um" (Sam). There were Matchbox cars everywhere and half a bag of cheese balls had been consumed. I'd say it was a good day. But Wednesday- Wednesday! That was MY day home with my guy. And it was amazing. We went to the library- tried out storytime, but at 20 months, he is just too young to sit still. Actually, I don't know if this kid will ever sit still before kidnergarten. Unless of course, Cars or monster trucks are on the tv. So we colored a picture for Daddy, played in the children's room, and had a discussion about the "shishies" (fishies).

There were cuddles. There were kisses. There was much chasing of the Boy. There was sharing of sheese (cheese). There was playing with cars. There was stroking his soft, blond hair and inhaling that baby scent of the top of his head. That scent which is much less present these days. I sniff and sniff the top of his head, as if I can save it up for future reference when the scent is no longer there. My husband thinks I'm crazy- but I'm convinced this is a scent that only mommies can smell.

It made me wish so hard that I didn't have to work. That I could stay home with my Boy and have days like that every day. I know it's good for him to have his day care- it's a small, family home day care with only a few other kids, most of whom are all around his age. He is happy there and calls the other kids his buddies. He has fun, and is learning. We need my income in our home. I know that I can't be a stay-at-home mom, and that there isn't anything wrong with that. But it doesn't stop me from wishing.

Wednesday, February 3, 2010

Dude.

We have been sick.

Seriously, it was never-ending there for a while. First I got some minor stomach bug, which was followed a week later by a more serious one. That one had the good sense to manifest itself at work, forcing me to barf in my work bathroom. I was horrified. Fortunately, I was working late duty (10:30am-7pm) and it was 6pm, so there weren't many people around to witness or hear my humiliation! Unfortunately, we had had a "food day". Throwing up buffalo chicken dip = no fun. Later that night my husband had the joy of seeing me throw up in a garbage can. It's a good thing we're already married, or he might have run screaming into the night. Then, of course, the Boy got it in the middle of the night. Poor little man, he's only 19 months old, had no idea what was happening to him, and threw up twice in his crib. A musical elephant met its demise, but other than that everything came clean. Even though he had had grape tomatoes for dinner. He segued from that into bronchitis, so there has been an extreme over-viewing of Cars and Mickey Mouse Clubhouse at our house.

Hot dog, hot dog, hot diggety dog, we've got ears, it's time for cheers......

Fortunately, the lovely lovely Zithromax seems to have destroyed the evil bronchitis, and the Boy is better today, although still tired and cranky. He toddled on off to his friends when I dropped him off at day care this morning.

In other news, my husband and I might be insane. We love our current apartment; we love the area; we are happy there and we can afford it. We didn't intend to move until we have another little one on the way or in the house (which, god willing, won't be for another couple years). However, me being me, I'm always on the lookout for a 3-bedroom we can afford. I found one today; however it's about half an hour away from where we currently live. The downside would be that we would have to move in general (HATE) and would be moving away from an area we love. The upside would be that we were in a 3-bedroom we could afford, and would be living closer to two families we love and often have playdates with. I think our general consensus is that we still don't plan to move; however if the place is awesome we might end up taking it. We're going to look at it tonight; we shall see what happens.