Occasional Reality

One day I'll forget I had days like this. So I will write.

I took the kids to run errands.

First stop was Half-Price Books. Bear with me for a second because the following details are important. I got out the double stroller (no small feat - it weighs about 80 pounds), got Mash out, strapped her in. Unstrapped Silas as he pretended to be asleep and heaved his dead weight body out of the car. They waited and fussed in the hot sun while I took a small stack of books and movies to sell. I got the diaper bag and sippee cups locked and loaded. By the time I pushed the stroller across the parking lot while explaining to Silas how it would not be a good thing to get hit by a car, I was already out of breath and sweaty. I walked to the counter and set down my 5 items. I was excited to finally get them out of my car because they'd sat in the passenger seat for 2 weeks now. The employee walked over to me and sighed when I told him I wanted to sell these things. He said, it will take me about 30 minutes because I have to take care of all of these books first (pointing to the endless mountains of books behind him). I looked to my left and saw Silas checking out a rack of toys so I hastily said nevermind I will come back another time. What I should have said was the previous paragraph followed by WHY CAN'T YOU DO MY MEASLY 5 ITEMS FIRST? But I didn't think of it until I was standing in the hot sun loading all of the items back into the car.

Next stop was Kroger. Bear with me again. The original plan was to run into Kroger and grab some freshly made tortillas, organic fruit and yogurt. Then we were going to Wal-mart to get a big list of items that included vent filters and chlorine for the pool and groceries for the week. So I threw Mash into the front of the cart and told Silas he could walk if he obeyed. Then I made the fatal mistake of making a spontaneous decision. I saw vent filters out of the corner of my eye and thought I can just get everything I need here and skip the trip to Wal-mart! Awesome idea Angie. Except for the fact that you don't know where anything is in this store. And Madison isn't strapped in. And last but certainly not least, Silas is walking.

My stress level was at about a 7.5 as I walked down 10 aisles to find a can of chopped green chilies. Then 10 more aisles to find Natural Cheetos.

And now I will explain how a mother's stress level hits a 9. (I'm leaving 10 and 11 open because I'm confident my kids can top this). We finally get enough things on the list and I look at the mile long lines to check out. Then I see the self-checkout lines completely empty. I ignored the small voice telling me not to do it and listened to the one saying that Silas likes to help me check out and it will keep him occupied. So we began.

Silas took a can of beans and stared blankly at the screen when it didn't beep. It was nap time. I told him to move it around until it beeped. More blank stares. I helped him move it around. He screams, "I WANT TO DO IT!" Repeat this scenario for     every     single     item.

At the same time, Madison chews on my phone and throws it 15 feet away (she's got a good arm) while lovely patrons watch and bring it back to me. Then she chews on the contents of my wallet (carbon copies of checks, etc.) and throws them. Then she finds Silas' half full juice box and lets the sugary goodness run down her face and neck, soaking her shirt and pants. She chews on the straw, throws it. She gets the juice to squirt through the top like a whale clearing his blow hole.

I turn in circles dividing my attention between trying to hand Mash something to eat and keeping Silas from skipping the scanning part of the process and just throwing groceries into sacks.

The machine is screaming at me, "Please remove the unscanned items from the bagging area." Madison is letting out a warrior cry as she stands up and tries to leap from the basket. I catch her as she leans over. Repeat this scenario at least 5 times.

Silas walks away from the bagging area and I start scanning like a mad woman trying to get it done before something else falls apart. There is a 5 second window of quiet. Then I look behind me. Silas has pushed the basket as hard as he can and Madison is standing up, surfing the rolling basket toward the customer service counter 20 feet away.

Fire is shooting out of my ears as I yell at Silas and put him in the basket.

I have so many groceries that they are starting to stack up on every square inch of the scanner station because it won't let you take off a sack until you are completely through. I can hear everyone's thoughts "why on earth would you use the self-checkout for THAT many groceries?" It's starting to look like a mountain range. Every time I try to sneak a bag off into the basket the computer lady yells, "Please return items to the bagging area." Sweat is squirting out of my face as I call it's bluff and it tells on me. "An attendant has been notified and will be with you shortly." The teenage boy looks annoyed as he helps the machine calm down. I choose the skip bagging button after that and start throwing things in the basket.

Silas is repeatedly screaming, and that is an understatement, "MOMMY TALK TO MEEEEEEEEE!!" with crocodile tears coming down his face. I try to ignore everything and just finish. His pleas pull on the heartstrings of everyone around and people are staring.

Then I put the bags in the basket with Silas underneath and him screaming about how the pineapple is hurting him! I rolled away telling Silas in a deep hushed tone that he is getting a huge spanking when we got to the car for pushing the cart and screaming the whole time. He says loudly for all of the gawkers to hear, Mommy what's a huge spankin?

Oh, you're about to find out.

Thankfully, we had a long walk to the car and during that time me and Jesus convinced myself not to beat him senseless. He ended up getting a normal spanking. The trip ended with a victory.

We sang Prince on the way home and I laughed and tried to take in some deep breaths before it was time to unload groceries, nurse, change poopie diapers, break up fights over toys, feed the hog, pay the bills, etc.

Kroger caught a picture of me on their security camera.

The Cure

For anyone with the Monday blues.

I heard a silly rumor that she's about to turn 1. 

I assured the crazy person that she's only 4 months old and I'll slap anyone I hear talking like that again.

She can't possibly be growing this fast.

Home Depot Moment

Last night we had a family outing to Home Depot. When we go to home improvement stores my job is to entertain the monkeys while big daddy gets the stuff he needs.

So I would get the basket going real fast then jump up and ride it - big hit. And then we ate some snacks. As a last resort I told Silas he could get down and explore as long as he stayed close and obeyed.

He found some "employee only" ladders and climbed up to drive his cars across the bumpy surfaces. When he stood up I said Look Silas, you're taller than me! As I stood close to his face to show him, he leaned over the rail and gave me a big kiss. I laughed, which for Silas ensures a behavior will be repeated for 2 hours. He would give me small kisses and big kisses and we would both throw our heads back with laughter.

Then things went in slow motion as I looked at his smiling face. I was struck by how fleeting this moment was. It's hard to believe but I know there will come a day when he won't want to kiss me in public with wild abandon.

So here is where I write a note to myself. Angie, 15 years from now
know that you treasured it. 

Potty Time

In 7 days we will begin potty training. I became aware of how much this is overdue the other day when I explained to Silas why it's good to change a poopie diaper quickly because of the effect feces has on skin and we carried on a conversation where he demonstrated full comprehension. Yes, he's old enough Mommy. 

Truth be told, I'm intimidated. Unsure. Lacking in experience, knowledge.

I'll be doing a little reading and playing a lot of Elmo Potty Time in preparation but if you have any experience or knowledge to share regarding the challenge of potty training a very intelligent 3 year old boy who is in de pen dent, please do.

Naked Bandit

The other day I took a 2 minute break to write my mom an email. I left the children in the living room. Alone. Risky move, but they were in good spirits so I decided to take my chances.

I've learned that the thing to listen for in this situation is hysterical laughter from Silas and silence from the baby. Never a good combination.

But I could hear peaceful giggling from both kids so I didn't worry.

Then the giggles got closer.

And closer.

Full of laughter, they rounded the corner of the hallway to my doorway.

And to my shock this is what I saw.

Oh how their laughter swelled when they saw my reaction.

To put this into context, she wasn't naked when I left. And Silas still has trouble taking his own clothes off.

Nevertheless, they somehow managed getting her in her birthday suit, diaper and all, in two minutes.

She was so excited to get such a laugh from Mommy that I could hardly catch the little streaker.

And when I went to find the clean diaper I had put on her before the incident, Silas informed me, "Mommy, I put it in da trash."
Isn't he thoughtful?

For All the Moms

In honor of Mother's Day (better late than never) I would like to share a recent discovery that has dramatically improved my abilities as a mom running a household.

This amazing breakthrough gives me more energy. Puts a spring in my step. I keep the house cleaner. I do more with the kids. It's my super power.

And I don't want you to worry. It's not Meth or a child's Ritalin prescription. It's not even coffee or energy drinks. It's so simple.

I put on my tennis shoes.

I'm usually a flip-flop or house-shoe kinda girl. But after I noticed the dramatic difference my shoes make, I put them on like Superman puts on his cape. And I feel like I'm in the montage of the movie where the house gets cleaned in fast motion.  

Try it my friends and may the force be with you.

On the Nightshift

It's 3:00 a.m.

Dark, quiet, everyone is sleeping.

All of a sudden we're jolted awake by intense screaming.

Silas is hysterical.

Begging for Dada to come help him.

Night terrors.

This scene happens a few times a week.

He describes the horrible content of his dreams, we try to comfort him.

They all center around the same theme. The same perpetrator.

Through sobs and heaving shoulders he tells us what she does to him.
Baby Mashon (sob sob) knocked over my (sob sob) ice cream!
Why's (sobs) Baby Mashon (sobs) messing with my nat map (aka nap mat)?
Dada, she took my cars (hysterics)! 
Tell Baby Mashon (sob sob) give me my blankie pweeeeze!

It's really not funny at the moment. I get all pumped full of adrenaline and then I look at the clock and realize I only have 47 minutes before the sweet little bird outside our window will wake up and I will be forced to spend the remaining early morning hours fantasizing about the different ways I could end its life. (Some mornings I'm so desperate for sleep and filled with hatred for the bird that I convince Brian to run out in his underwear to try and shoot it with the bb gun. So far the score is Tweetie 8, Brian 0.)

Despite the bad dreams and evil bird our bodies somehow always make it on a few hours of sleep. And as I listen to Silas give more details about the dreams the next day I wonder if he might be having a rough time with this baby that's barging into his world. 

But I can't help having a good laugh while he's not looking.