Emma kept repeating that she was "really strong" so I looked up from the computer and Nathan was no longer in the bouncy seat. He was now on Emma's lap on the floor. HEEEELLLLLLPPPPP MEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Guess I can't ignore her repeating anymore.
Monday, October 27, 2008
Wednesday, October 22, 2008
How Not to Kill Your Child Chapter 7
Master the art of typing with one hand....
Hello all. I decided this weekend to attempt a blog with all my ramblings. Maybe this way they will stay organized in case I ever write a book ...doubtful, but at least I can find everything in one place.
I saw a few friends over the weekend that mentioned I hadn't done one of these in awhile. My response was that Emma was being a good girl....however she now has a brother!
For those of you who do not know, Nathan has some issues with pooping. Seriously, what is with my kids and poop? Anyway he will not go for about 36 hours and spends about 24 of them grunting and miserable. Unfortunately we have to "help" him along at times to make the misery end and then you get the mother load each time. FUN FUN FUN here in Moussally land. So he eats, sleeps and screams for most of the day. I was awakened at 2:30 AM this morning to said grunting and fussing. However each time I got out of bed he was sleeping through it...makes one of us. Feeding time wasn't for another couple hours, so I gave it at 3:45 and cuddled on the couch with my little man. Needless to say his sleep was fitful and I would wake every few minutes to put the pacifier back in his mouth. Up and time to eat at 7 and then I spent the rest of the day trying to get off the couch. Nathan had different ideas and each time he was put down would scream uncontrollably until I picked him up again thinking he was gassy or something. Ummm NOPE just wanted Mommy.
Finally the poor kid poops and I am like hallelujah I can finally get a break. My back and neck are killing me. Again, not so much. Nathan screaming then prompts Emma to scream for me to come get him and all hell just breaks loose. I often dream of locking myself in the bathroom and hiding in the shower until they both forget I am there....no such luck, Em is too smart. Carolyn called at 11 and then again at 2 and wanted to know why everything sounded the same as it did 3 hours ago! So since my running for Mom of the Year ended a long time ago I decided to do some laundry while my 6 week old laid on top of the "in use" dryer. He was happy as could be. Later on I let him scream for 15 minutes straight and let Em "watch" him, which consists of shoving the pacifier in his mouth and read him stories. Well he calmed down for about 10 minutes so I was psyched. I just put him down to type this about 5 minutes ago and he is working himself into a dither again. Fabulous. Looks like something microwaveable for dinner since Phil is working late and I am about ready to drop from exhaustion.....gotta go pry the preschooler off the infant now.
Ciao
PS. Thank God for Facebook....it only requires minimal typing! Although I suck at Scramble with one hand.
How Not to Kill Your Child Chapter 4.5
DO NOT PUT UP CHRISTMAS LIGHTS WITH THEM AROUND! Repeat this saying every holiday season until they are old enough to prefer the mall to being outside with you.
My theory is the part of the brain that miraculously dulls the memory of the pain of childbirth is the same part of the brain that forgets what a PITA putting up Christmas lights is. Add in a toddler who has discovered the word why and thrives on asking non-stop questions on repeat until she gets the answer she wants, and you have a reason to both not EVER reproduce again or put up lights. Each year this endearing task falls to me, since I have no choice but to operate on the "if you want something done, do it yourself" plan. This year I thought, hey maybe Emma would like to help. Apparantly I killed too many braincells in college because how stupid a thought was that? Imagine a tangle of lights and someone repeating Mommy every 5 seconds or so. Then as you are finally getting the lights to fit all your trees, "Mommy do you want to play with me?" To which you reply " when I am finished". Now instead of Mommy every 5 seconds I get "Are you finished yet?" Finally after screaming NO and telling her to go play with her car I have a few seconds of peace.
Now imagine you get to the end and have one more set of lights left. Picture the end of one plug with 2 identcally sized holes.....and the plug to the new lights that has one large and one small spoke (or whatever you call them). Enter child - "Are you done yet? Can you stop and play with me for a minute and then finish?" " Can I play in your car, I am cold?" "Can I play in your car Mommy?" "Please can I play in your car for a bit?" "Please can you let me in the car?" So after muttering "I am gonna f-ing kill you" under my breath I tell her to go inside if she is cold which then prompts screaming. Ahhhhhh Fa La La La La. Miss ADD then moves on to begging for a show so after agreeing to put one on after I finish the last bush (mind you I gave up on one with mismatched plugs and thus totally skipped it) we had an amicable few minutes.
A show is on, she has a sandwich and I am trying to regain some sort of holiday cheer. After all "Santa is watching" - which is another common phrase around here.
My theory is the part of the brain that miraculously dulls the memory of the pain of childbirth is the same part of the brain that forgets what a PITA putting up Christmas lights is. Add in a toddler who has discovered the word why and thrives on asking non-stop questions on repeat until she gets the answer she wants, and you have a reason to both not EVER reproduce again or put up lights. Each year this endearing task falls to me, since I have no choice but to operate on the "if you want something done, do it yourself" plan. This year I thought, hey maybe Emma would like to help. Apparantly I killed too many braincells in college because how stupid a thought was that? Imagine a tangle of lights and someone repeating Mommy every 5 seconds or so. Then as you are finally getting the lights to fit all your trees, "Mommy do you want to play with me?" To which you reply " when I am finished". Now instead of Mommy every 5 seconds I get "Are you finished yet?" Finally after screaming NO and telling her to go play with her car I have a few seconds of peace.
Now imagine you get to the end and have one more set of lights left. Picture the end of one plug with 2 identcally sized holes.....and the plug to the new lights that has one large and one small spoke (or whatever you call them). Enter child - "Are you done yet? Can you stop and play with me for a minute and then finish?" " Can I play in your car, I am cold?" "Can I play in your car Mommy?" "Please can I play in your car for a bit?" "Please can you let me in the car?" So after muttering "I am gonna f-ing kill you" under my breath I tell her to go inside if she is cold which then prompts screaming. Ahhhhhh Fa La La La La. Miss ADD then moves on to begging for a show so after agreeing to put one on after I finish the last bush (mind you I gave up on one with mismatched plugs and thus totally skipped it) we had an amicable few minutes.
A show is on, she has a sandwich and I am trying to regain some sort of holiday cheer. After all "Santa is watching" - which is another common phrase around here.
How Not to Kill Your Child - Chapter 6
The "experts" say that a child can regress once potty trained......Emma has been fully potty trained - night time too - for a couple months now and is doing great, so do you think the "expert" knowledge can be applied to cats? Just curious, because this morning I awoke to my husband standing at the end of the bed with a pile of something in a tissue in his hand, while I am petting said cat. "Guess what this is?"
Now for those of you who have seen me in the AM, I am not quite a morning person. I had already be woken up by Phil getting up to get ready for work. Then Emma bounds out of bed and wakes me up to find Daddy, because God forbid he is not the first person she sees. Maxie then jumps on the bed and as I roll over decides I must be up and ready to pet her. So as I try to wrap my groggy mind around the fact that it is already morning, and have yet to put my glasses on, the sound of a storm trooper stomping down the hall into the bedroom (some of you have experienced the phenomenon of Phil "walking" which is more like stomping
- although he does not agree) and presenting me with a riddle as to what is in his hand, was enough to get my very large pregnant butt out of bed. "Poop?" I say....."Yes she pooped on the rug under Emma's chair and I have no time to clean it up! This cat has got to go!" FABULOUS.
So kitty has been pooping on the rug lately over the past week. Once in the baby's room for no apparent reason and now twice on the rug in the dining room and 1 pee on same rug. Smells great I tell ya! Before I get my breakfast I spray and dab at the rug multiple times, take Maxie to her litter box and wash my hands twice. Cat has no food, which I attribute to the pooping so I feed her...does she get out of her basket to eat....of course not. Ok settling into the day, I am now on the couch in the living room reading US Weekly - Halley Berry would love to be pregnant forever, WTF is wrong with that girl. Keep in mind that the living room and dining room are essentially the same room....all of a sudden Maxie is scratching at the rug again. I start yelling but tooo late. The little fing poop has just pissed on the rug RIGHT IN FRONT OF ME. Well I run after her yelling (lets be real I waddled down the hall) and she hides. Only to emerge and be tossed on the stairs and have the baby gate closed in her face, where she remains crying to this point. More dab and spray, dab and spray and wash hands. AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHh
So I spent the weekend and this morning trying to come up with reasons Maxie might be pissed.
1. This all started around the tag sale....could she really be that upset that stuff that has been in the back of the attic for 4 1/2 years has been sold. Or that we are cleaning out all little girl clothes? Ummmm I think not. 2. Emma has decided she is old enough to scoop the litter......does Maxie somehow know this and disagree? Possible 3. I have not been up to my usual cleaning standards lately (shocking I
know) and the downstairs was a disaster. Feeling bad (and basically assuming I would not s^&t in the bathroom either since it was so dirty) I cleaned the downstairs bathroom, where the litter box is, top to bottom on Sat. Does that make Princess Kitty happy...apparently NOT. 4. We took the crib down....now she pooped in the baby's room before this.......could this be an issue? Possibly, but seriously get over it. 5. She finally realized Lexus is not coming back.....ummm HELLO it has been almost 3 months. Not that you cared when she was going away. You ran away. NOW you are upset?
So frankly we have no idea what is wrong with this cat. Needless to say if she keeps crying non-stop she may not make it much longer. Emma keeps telling her that it is ok...accidents happen. Now how to explain to a 3 year old that when you piss on purpose outside of pissing receptacle...it is not an accident.
Why is someone always pooping in the wrong spot around here??? Why?
I think I will go waddle around Wal-Mart for some retail therapy and more rug cleaner.
Suggestions?
Hope all is well with all of you....and may your day be poop free.
Now for those of you who have seen me in the AM, I am not quite a morning person. I had already be woken up by Phil getting up to get ready for work. Then Emma bounds out of bed and wakes me up to find Daddy, because God forbid he is not the first person she sees. Maxie then jumps on the bed and as I roll over decides I must be up and ready to pet her. So as I try to wrap my groggy mind around the fact that it is already morning, and have yet to put my glasses on, the sound of a storm trooper stomping down the hall into the bedroom (some of you have experienced the phenomenon of Phil "walking" which is more like stomping
- although he does not agree) and presenting me with a riddle as to what is in his hand, was enough to get my very large pregnant butt out of bed. "Poop?" I say....."Yes she pooped on the rug under Emma's chair and I have no time to clean it up! This cat has got to go!" FABULOUS.
So kitty has been pooping on the rug lately over the past week. Once in the baby's room for no apparent reason and now twice on the rug in the dining room and 1 pee on same rug. Smells great I tell ya! Before I get my breakfast I spray and dab at the rug multiple times, take Maxie to her litter box and wash my hands twice. Cat has no food, which I attribute to the pooping so I feed her...does she get out of her basket to eat....of course not. Ok settling into the day, I am now on the couch in the living room reading US Weekly - Halley Berry would love to be pregnant forever, WTF is wrong with that girl. Keep in mind that the living room and dining room are essentially the same room....all of a sudden Maxie is scratching at the rug again. I start yelling but tooo late. The little fing poop has just pissed on the rug RIGHT IN FRONT OF ME. Well I run after her yelling (lets be real I waddled down the hall) and she hides. Only to emerge and be tossed on the stairs and have the baby gate closed in her face, where she remains crying to this point. More dab and spray, dab and spray and wash hands. AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHh
So I spent the weekend and this morning trying to come up with reasons Maxie might be pissed.
1. This all started around the tag sale....could she really be that upset that stuff that has been in the back of the attic for 4 1/2 years has been sold. Or that we are cleaning out all little girl clothes? Ummmm I think not. 2. Emma has decided she is old enough to scoop the litter......does Maxie somehow know this and disagree? Possible 3. I have not been up to my usual cleaning standards lately (shocking I
know) and the downstairs was a disaster. Feeling bad (and basically assuming I would not s^&t in the bathroom either since it was so dirty) I cleaned the downstairs bathroom, where the litter box is, top to bottom on Sat. Does that make Princess Kitty happy...apparently NOT. 4. We took the crib down....now she pooped in the baby's room before this.......could this be an issue? Possibly, but seriously get over it. 5. She finally realized Lexus is not coming back.....ummm HELLO it has been almost 3 months. Not that you cared when she was going away. You ran away. NOW you are upset?
So frankly we have no idea what is wrong with this cat. Needless to say if she keeps crying non-stop she may not make it much longer. Emma keeps telling her that it is ok...accidents happen. Now how to explain to a 3 year old that when you piss on purpose outside of pissing receptacle...it is not an accident.
Why is someone always pooping in the wrong spot around here??? Why?
I think I will go waddle around Wal-Mart for some retail therapy and more rug cleaner.
Suggestions?
Hope all is well with all of you....and may your day be poop free.
How Not to Kill Your Child Chapter 3
So there are a lot of childless people out there and older people who forget, that have many opinions on how to raise a child and about potty training. Seriously, someone needs to teach these people how to refrain from stupid comments. You know the ones that start with ”You never did that so I can’t help you” or “You can’t just stop potty training or your child will be just like everyone else trained at 3 or 4.” “Just tell her she is not a baby”…..Ummm thanks people. You can all go hang out with the people that tell me my daughter is a doll and so cute. Those people are the ones I am recruiting for babysitters …..
For those of you who know Emma, normal or just like everyone else are words I would never use to describe her. Can she go on the potty? Yup. Does she get the concept? Yup. The problem in my opinion, she is too freakin lazy. The kicker lately is that she seems to have given up napping. During this time in her room she has to go potty, then feels the need to remove her pull up or diaper by herself and make sure the potty gets all over her room. Could someone just shoot me now?! This combined with her ignoring me, not listening to a word I say and her favorite phrase “go away Mommy” has me physically restraining myself from reaching for the bottle of tequila at least 3 times a day. Since alcohol intake while watching children is generally frowned upon in society I have instead regressed down to her level by screaming right back at her. Unfortunately this usually just makes her get louder and the all out tantrum complete with kicking and hitting ensues.
So the next suggestion from the baby rearing powers that be is to remove yourself from the child and room for a few minutes. These geniuses forgot to add in a section on what to do if they follow you and can unlock and open doors? One of my friends hides in her pantry for a few minutes and like most kids, her child can not open the door. Not Emma. Oh no, she needs to follow me screaming the whole time and if I am luck enough to have a closed, unopenable door in front of me, proceeds to throw her little body against it in frustration.
How do you not kill your child? Pretend to cry. She then concentrates on making me fell better for a minute. Email or call people with kids or Get a bi-polar one like mine who is manipulative enough to hug me and tell me I am her best friend right before I reach boiling point.
Some of those older people mentioned in the first paragraph tell you that 2 is such a fun age. I think these people hit the bottle of tequila one too many times. Then they want to know when the next one is coming………
PS. I just picked up the little &^%$^&& room and she is destroying it (you know instead of NAPPING!)
For those of you who know Emma, normal or just like everyone else are words I would never use to describe her. Can she go on the potty? Yup. Does she get the concept? Yup. The problem in my opinion, she is too freakin lazy. The kicker lately is that she seems to have given up napping. During this time in her room she has to go potty, then feels the need to remove her pull up or diaper by herself and make sure the potty gets all over her room. Could someone just shoot me now?! This combined with her ignoring me, not listening to a word I say and her favorite phrase “go away Mommy” has me physically restraining myself from reaching for the bottle of tequila at least 3 times a day. Since alcohol intake while watching children is generally frowned upon in society I have instead regressed down to her level by screaming right back at her. Unfortunately this usually just makes her get louder and the all out tantrum complete with kicking and hitting ensues.
So the next suggestion from the baby rearing powers that be is to remove yourself from the child and room for a few minutes. These geniuses forgot to add in a section on what to do if they follow you and can unlock and open doors? One of my friends hides in her pantry for a few minutes and like most kids, her child can not open the door. Not Emma. Oh no, she needs to follow me screaming the whole time and if I am luck enough to have a closed, unopenable door in front of me, proceeds to throw her little body against it in frustration.
How do you not kill your child? Pretend to cry. She then concentrates on making me fell better for a minute. Email or call people with kids or Get a bi-polar one like mine who is manipulative enough to hug me and tell me I am her best friend right before I reach boiling point.
Some of those older people mentioned in the first paragraph tell you that 2 is such a fun age. I think these people hit the bottle of tequila one too many times. Then they want to know when the next one is coming………
PS. I just picked up the little &^%$^&& room and she is destroying it (you know instead of NAPPING!)
How Not to Kill Your Child Chapter 4
Scrub Them
Well my friends, it has been awhile. Em has been pretty good lately and so there has not been much to complain about, except the fact that she flat out refuses to learn to go on the potty. The past 2 weeks however have changed all that and once again we are regressing to monkey level. My kid may be the missing link we are all looking for....who knows!
Why the heck does she feel the need to, A., put her hands in her diaper and B, smear poop all over herself, the floor and on one fine occassion, my new furniture!!!! What would possess someone to want to touch their own poop. How gross is that! Doesn't she smell it??? When I discover her lovely artwork, she is looks at me and holds up her hands like , Mommy this is gross, ummmmm YEAH IT IS! WTF. Not only has this happened once but 3 times lately and she still doesn't get that this is a bad thing.
I just look at her and go"Seriously?".
So Phil got her up from a nap one day and discovered her newfound hobby and cleaned her up. Well lets just say he is not the most observant person, because the next day I go in her room which smells like poop and notice the artwork that has dried on the back of the door. Yummy! They should really give the people that make Clorox Wipes a raise with all the money I spend on them! Next Up, the new living room table, toys, radiator and floor this weekend and then yesterday.
All I wanted to do was finish the last 100 pages of the "Divinci Code". Is that too much to ask? I didn't think so. Little Miss's new favorite thing related to her "shows" is to watch videos in the playroom/guesroom and play. Sounds good to me. A little peace and quiet and I can finish my book. I walk in the playroom to check on her and am greeted with the look described above and a poop show on her leg. I start screaming (mind you Phil is on a conference call downstairs since he works from home an AWFUL LOT lately) and scrubbing with the baby wipes and drag a crying little miss into the bathroom to clean her up. Well guess who didn't like the scrub fest? Prompting me to say "if you don't like it then don't play with your poop!" and hence the title of this chapter.
I heard somewhere that monkeys throw their poop around.....hmmmmmm.
Well my friends, it has been awhile. Em has been pretty good lately and so there has not been much to complain about, except the fact that she flat out refuses to learn to go on the potty. The past 2 weeks however have changed all that and once again we are regressing to monkey level. My kid may be the missing link we are all looking for....who knows!
Why the heck does she feel the need to, A., put her hands in her diaper and B, smear poop all over herself, the floor and on one fine occassion, my new furniture!!!! What would possess someone to want to touch their own poop. How gross is that! Doesn't she smell it??? When I discover her lovely artwork, she is looks at me and holds up her hands like , Mommy this is gross, ummmmm YEAH IT IS! WTF. Not only has this happened once but 3 times lately and she still doesn't get that this is a bad thing.
I just look at her and go"Seriously?".
So Phil got her up from a nap one day and discovered her newfound hobby and cleaned her up. Well lets just say he is not the most observant person, because the next day I go in her room which smells like poop and notice the artwork that has dried on the back of the door. Yummy! They should really give the people that make Clorox Wipes a raise with all the money I spend on them! Next Up, the new living room table, toys, radiator and floor this weekend and then yesterday.
All I wanted to do was finish the last 100 pages of the "Divinci Code". Is that too much to ask? I didn't think so. Little Miss's new favorite thing related to her "shows" is to watch videos in the playroom/guesroom and play. Sounds good to me. A little peace and quiet and I can finish my book. I walk in the playroom to check on her and am greeted with the look described above and a poop show on her leg. I start screaming (mind you Phil is on a conference call downstairs since he works from home an AWFUL LOT lately) and scrubbing with the baby wipes and drag a crying little miss into the bathroom to clean her up. Well guess who didn't like the scrub fest? Prompting me to say "if you don't like it then don't play with your poop!" and hence the title of this chapter.
I heard somewhere that monkeys throw their poop around.....hmmmmmm.
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