I wish I had a special chip in my brain that recorded all the crazy things that go on here so they could be downloaded directly into the computer. Every day absolutely terrible and remarkably wonderful things happen with the kids. I love and hate them quite dearly. I don't believe there will ever come a time when one becomes my favorite. The moment I decide one of the boys is easier to be around, for certain, something like pooping behind the bed or screaming on the floor in Jack in the Box happens.
A couple mornings ago I took the kids to their YMCA Wonderkids class, then we played in the park, hiked along some nature trails, grabbed a couple things at Marshalls, picked up a snail to battle the algae in Moe's fish tank from Petsmart, and went to get in the truck to head home. Nate had to pee, so back to Petsmart or on to the nearby Jack in the Box fast food restaurant to powder our noses and grab some grub? It was noon, so Nate, Will and I held hands and trekked the couple hundred feet or so of open parking lot, through the drive thru, to the Jack in the Box. Will had had his fill of activity for the morning and chose to show me by forcing me to drag him about 15 feet along the way. When I didn't get the hint, he decided to let me see his more recently active dark side. dadada daaa
There happened to be a fairly decent line in a fairly cramped space at Jack in the Box. We squeezed in and got in line to wait our turn. Something, thankfully, Nate is able to understand and accept as part of life. Will, however, is still quite certain that when he wants something he should be able to have it immediately. This goes for fruit snacks and rides, particularly. Will whined and cried off and on in line. I placed our order just in time to see the Wild Bill Show.
One of the employees had given us petri dish samples of fruit smoothies. Something I'd think would appease a cranky boy. However, Will seemed to be undecided if it should be sipped or miraculously sucked through a straw without spilling (note: petri dish style cup). I tried to help him, but he just wasn't in the mood. He ended up on his back screaming bloody murder, kicking his legs, spinning side to side and battling me for his petri cup. He was pulling so hard on his smoothie sample I couldn't let go or it would have splattered everywhere. (time out: I just had to run to the bathroom. I think I ate bad dried blueberries. That's why I'm typing on the computer at 10:45pm!) Anyhoo, I eventually pried the cup from those naughty little talons and managed to splatter only a couple of people, Will, and the floor. A tall, well-put-together woman in scrubs asked if she could help me. "I've been there, too," she said. Very nice. I should have told her "yes, please deal with my son who's throwing a tantrum on a nasty floor while I step out and find myself a Starbucks."
While Will let loose with his infamously piercing, high pitched screeching, one of the employees loaded me up with all my bags, a chocolate milk and my diet coke. I put what I could in my backpack but was still loaded up pretty well. I got the boys out of the restaurant (as Nate said, "at least I was a good boy, mama") and started to make my way back to our truck ASAP.
We made a lovely spectacle of ourselves in front of numerous cars waiting at the drive thru. Immediately Will dropped to the ground. I tried lifting him and forcing him to walk, but with Nate's hand and three bags in my right hand, I only had my left to try to finagle the little bugger into walking on his own. I could feel Will's little bones in his hand popping and was afraid his little arm was going to come right off, so I let him drop to the ground where I got as much of his shirt as I could into my hand so I could lift him without hurting him. I got about 10 steps out of him before he tried a very successful "spin move". He started twirling to the left until his shirt was so tight it was choking him. Great. Real nice. I had to set him down again and all I could do was try to hold him up against my body with my left arm. A little awkward but a lot quicker. After walking maybe a hundred feet like that, I got the little banshee into his seat (which is always a battle, anyway) and gave him chicken strips (be happy!) which were immediately slapped off my pancakes. Will screamed bloody murder for the next 10 minutes in the car before he passed out. Amen.
I was parched from the ordeal and needed a good chug of my pop. (Hmm... where the heck is my pop? Where is my G-D pop!? I must have set it down when I put the boys in their seats. No, not on the floor. Is it on my back bumper as I'm driving down the freeway? Should I pull over and see? I'm so thirsty! All I want is a big sip of ice cold pop on this hot, God-forsaken morning and I probably left it on the ground when I had to readjust William! The drive-thru-ers didn't even give me a heads up. I try to make for a fun day, I resisted the temptation to give Will a thump in the chest, and I don't even get rewarded with a sip. !?) Needless to say, I wasn't just a little upset I couldn't find my pop. I was raging hot. Furious. I fumed. I cussed big bad words to myself. I drank hot flavored water I'd had in my console.
Though Will can be a serious Pill, as described in the episode above; he can also be a remarkably good boy. One of his highlights includes giving great smooches out of the blue to me, Rick, his brother and friends, and his stuffed animals. He sleeps with three hard, plastic bath toys: two sharks (one big, one small) and a killer whale, and occasionally a red plastic boat with a white sail. Will also loves to help clean up and put things back in there respective places. He is always happy to share his toys with others (it's a miracle!). Nate screams and tries to rip things out of Will's hands, so we just tell Nate to ask nicely and, sure enough, Will passes over whatever is fancying Nate. Plus, Will has a lovely, yet devilish grin that melts the heart.
He's a kick in the pants, too. The other day I was using the bathroom. My typical after the morning coffee job. Will comes in and happily declares "poofy" and gets the air freshener from under the sink and brings it to me. What excellent service!
Monday, June 30, 2008
Thursday, June 19, 2008
Our New Baby and Tokens
No, we weren't crazy enough to conceive a third child in less than three years; but, we did buy a Nintendo Wii and Wii Fit with money from selling one of Rick's three surf boards. It's been a real hit around this house. Not only am I able to be active when Will's napping, in the evenings, when we are sick (as we are now), etc., I'm also able to spend time with Rick and the kids, having fun and getting exercise at the same time. Hurray! Nate's a real riot. He's a punching, running, skiing machine. I'm sure boxing games would be considered inappropriate for most two year old's. In my opinion, if it wears my busy bugger out, then Mr. Wii's getting the knock down. It's great for the abs and I'm hoping if I punch hard enough my stretch marks will evaporate.
So, because I believe in the Super Nannies and Nanny 911ers, I've installed a "Nate's Very Good Boy Token Jar" in our home. I bought a ridiculous amount of Chuck E. Cheese tokens and am letting Nate add one to his jar whenever he follows directions, shows good behavior, helps me, the dogs, Will, etc. If Nate misbehaves, like telling us he doesn't have to go to the bathroom, then peeing across the living room floor half a minute later, like he did tonight, then a token is removed from his "Nate's Very Good Boy Token Jar" and placed back in the plastic token holder from the big Cheese himself (not good). I have to say, Nate's been "on track and on time" (shout out to other moms and dads in Thomas' world) with the potty issue. Well, beside peeing in his shorts in the yard this afternoon and the cross-living-room adventure tonight.
Hopefully, we're not in for another weird toilet-issue run. As long as the boys don't smear poop, I can cope. That reminds me, Nate, Will and I have not been feeling well the last couple of days. Mostly nose stuff, some fevery-issues, aches, sleepiness, etc. But it was a little strange when Nate did a small spit up on the hall carpet this afternoon. He said it hurt. I didn't see it happen, so I wiped it up and smelled it. Yep, smelled like bile and had chunks. No worries, though. It didn't take more than a moment for him to get back "on track and on time".
I got a nice break this afternoon. I had my hair done (I've got to cover the grays these hoodlums give me) and ran to Toys R Us and the place where you stuff bears. I really want to get Nate the Walle interactive toy for his birthday (almost two months away, I'm really planning) and I know it's going to be hard to find once the movie comes out. However, it seems to be popular already because it's already sold out at Toys R Us. Instead, I picked up some fun bits for our flight to Washington and cruise to Alaska in a couple weeks. A little Walle that dances, some hot wheels, and three Pirates of the Caribbean action figures - score! The flight should be quite exciting.
At Build-A-Bear (I remembered the name!) I had a black lab stuffed for Will. The Binky Ba Ba Fairy's coming this weekend to take his bottles to new babies and is going to leave him a lovely little dog named Gog (how Will pronounces dog). Will adores dogs, so I'm hoping his new lovey will ease the pain of losing his beloved bottles. I had to kiss and wish on a little heart that was sewn into Gog, and I am such a dork, I almost cried while making my wish. I was planning on having the fairy come tomorrow, but we have swim lessons in the morning, so he'll probably fall asleep in the car on the 20 minute drive home and Rick and I are going on a date tomorrow night (!?!), so he'll be with the sitter. Looks like the big night's Saturday. Wish us well.
I'm trying to postpone sleep because of the whole post-nasal-drip-thing; however, the Vick's nighttime cold medicine I took a while back is starting to take affect. If I don't get to my bed quickly, I might end up like Nate who fell asleep on his bedroom floor today naked with his blankie wrapped around his waist.
So, because I believe in the Super Nannies and Nanny 911ers, I've installed a "Nate's Very Good Boy Token Jar" in our home. I bought a ridiculous amount of Chuck E. Cheese tokens and am letting Nate add one to his jar whenever he follows directions, shows good behavior, helps me, the dogs, Will, etc. If Nate misbehaves, like telling us he doesn't have to go to the bathroom, then peeing across the living room floor half a minute later, like he did tonight, then a token is removed from his "Nate's Very Good Boy Token Jar" and placed back in the plastic token holder from the big Cheese himself (not good). I have to say, Nate's been "on track and on time" (shout out to other moms and dads in Thomas' world) with the potty issue. Well, beside peeing in his shorts in the yard this afternoon and the cross-living-room adventure tonight.
Hopefully, we're not in for another weird toilet-issue run. As long as the boys don't smear poop, I can cope. That reminds me, Nate, Will and I have not been feeling well the last couple of days. Mostly nose stuff, some fevery-issues, aches, sleepiness, etc. But it was a little strange when Nate did a small spit up on the hall carpet this afternoon. He said it hurt. I didn't see it happen, so I wiped it up and smelled it. Yep, smelled like bile and had chunks. No worries, though. It didn't take more than a moment for him to get back "on track and on time".
I got a nice break this afternoon. I had my hair done (I've got to cover the grays these hoodlums give me) and ran to Toys R Us and the place where you stuff bears. I really want to get Nate the Walle interactive toy for his birthday (almost two months away, I'm really planning) and I know it's going to be hard to find once the movie comes out. However, it seems to be popular already because it's already sold out at Toys R Us. Instead, I picked up some fun bits for our flight to Washington and cruise to Alaska in a couple weeks. A little Walle that dances, some hot wheels, and three Pirates of the Caribbean action figures - score! The flight should be quite exciting.
At Build-A-Bear (I remembered the name!) I had a black lab stuffed for Will. The Binky Ba Ba Fairy's coming this weekend to take his bottles to new babies and is going to leave him a lovely little dog named Gog (how Will pronounces dog). Will adores dogs, so I'm hoping his new lovey will ease the pain of losing his beloved bottles. I had to kiss and wish on a little heart that was sewn into Gog, and I am such a dork, I almost cried while making my wish. I was planning on having the fairy come tomorrow, but we have swim lessons in the morning, so he'll probably fall asleep in the car on the 20 minute drive home and Rick and I are going on a date tomorrow night (!?!), so he'll be with the sitter. Looks like the big night's Saturday. Wish us well.
I'm trying to postpone sleep because of the whole post-nasal-drip-thing; however, the Vick's nighttime cold medicine I took a while back is starting to take affect. If I don't get to my bed quickly, I might end up like Nate who fell asleep on his bedroom floor today naked with his blankie wrapped around his waist.
Wednesday, June 11, 2008
Chucky at the Movies
My Mom, bless her, came to visit for a week - hurray! The only bad thing about that is that she had to go back to Washington. My dad, brother, and soon-to-be-sister-in-law, Jamie, all came out for a long weekend, too! All-in-all, we had a ton of fun and the boys were on fairly wonderful behavior. We had a great time swimming at the hotel and the boys soaked up all the extra attention like the love sponges they are.
Unfortunately, as I find in all aspects of our lives/adventures, the higher things get, the longer and harder they fall. It never fails that I take the kids to Disneyland (Jumpin' Jamin', Scooters Jungle, the petting zoo, park, etc.), and after our great and joyous outing, the boys are unable to stop their inevitable tantrums and floor-flopping breakdowns (this goes more for Nate than Will, who's fairly good natured still).
Tonight was fairly comical as I look back on it. Of course, the large glass of now sour wine my mom had left in the fridge a few days ago that I'm gulping down could be part of why I now think it was a bit funny.
Our day started off great, with friends over to play, and fairly decent behavior for all the tots and sharing and all that. Times like those give me hope that maybe the boys are doing okay with me, the crazy-lady-mom, raising them. Will had an early nap and woke up early. It's always a challenge for me to help the kids keep good spirits and behavior through the afternoons and dinner time. Today was no exception. Nate and Will were thoroughly enjoying their attempt at making me go mad, so I decided to pack them up and head to a movie at the theater: Kung Fu Panda. Rick had to fly to Salt Lake City for a conference tomorrow, so it was just me and the little guys.
We had success (beside Will fighting the bejesus out of me to not strap him into the car seat and fighting to not get out of the car when it was finally time to get out - he does this every time - it's really cutting down on my latte stops) getting into the theater, dinking around on the video games, and picking out snacks - I even let them be crazy and we got a medium (huge!) popcorn, a medium (huge) pop, and a big bag of sour patch kids. I should have known I would be cruisin' for a bruisin' at that point. The boys were actually great through the movie. . . a little restless at the end, but what one or two year old wouldn't be? I have to say, I highly recommend it. It was action-packed and fun. Anyhoo, the manure hit the pan in the restroom afterward.
The three of us went into the handicap stall as typical. Yes, having a one and two year old is a valid handicap. I went to the bathroom and flushed. And Nate got so upset that he didn't get to flush, he did a twenty second wide-open-mouth-I'm-going-to-scream-move. Then it poured out. Violent screaming, red-faced crying. SCREAMING. He completely lost it. I tried to cool him down, failed, and snuck a spank (something I'm trying not to do - dang, I lost it, too), of course, that didn't help. I left the stall with Will and tried the "calm down, it's time to go, hold my hand" which didn't even register with him. He probably couldn't hear me. I left him in the stall screaming (it was adjacent to the sinks) so I could wash my hands. I did the "it's going to be awfully lonely staying the night in the bathroom, so you better come with us" - no luck. Finally, by bluffing a really good "I'm going to leave and if you want to come with us, you better follow me", he came out, still screaming bloody murder. Two nice moms, both who happened to have two boys close in age, a year or two older than my boys, came up at different times to tell me they'd been there.
I carried sweaty, angry Nate through the lobby (thankfully he clung and didn't kick), down the escalators, to the car. Opened his door, set him in his chair, walked around the car, put back-arching, seat-gripping Will in his seat. Chased Nate (who had gotten out because I hadn't strapped him in (No! I do it!! Scream! Wail!)) through several cars in the parking garage. And, because it never fails, there was a car waiting for me to load the kids so they could take my parking space. They probably got it on video and we'll be starring on utube.com tonight. Nate screamed the entire car ride home, when I unbuckled him, drug him off of the floorboards of the car, and had to lock the car doors because he kept trying to get back in the car (because "our house is yucky!"). I left him screaming in the driveway (we live at the end of a previously quiet cul-de-sac) while I got Will in the house and started the broiler for salmon. When I went out and checked on Nate several minutes later, he hadn't calmed down a lick. He couldn't be held. He couldn't reason with me. He couldn't "use his words". He was just out of control with no way to calm down.
Just before bedtime tonight, with the help of my little sculpture of the mom hugging her two little boys, Nate shared some of his feelings. He told me I'm not a bad mommy, I'm a "good mommy" and that when he's mad, I'm sad (which I've told him). Then he made like he was scratching the mommy and pulling her hair and said "I hurt you!". Owy and a little scary. I think I've created my old little Chucky doll.
This is the third day in a row Nate's thrown a monstrous tantrum based on control issues. At least the potty throughout the house bit has passed. All I can do is try to keep my wits and to be as consistent as I can . . . to keep my word when I say something and show them I love them no matter what.
When I look at these battles, I feel like I'm not doing anything right. I can only hope that in the big picture, what counts is, that I'm here, I'm trying, I care, and no matter what, all I want is the best for my babies. Being a mom is the most challenging occupation in the world. It's the most important thing to be successful at. I've always worked my tail off to succeed academically and in my career. I always felt in control of my successes and my failures. This parenting throws all that out the window. It's difficult to see what I've sewn. There are no exams to judge me or to let me know where my weaknesses and strengths are. Part of me wants to start working just because I'm so afraid of being so fully responsible for my own kids. I've got to suck it up. I've got to dig down and find patience. I've got to cut myself some slack and allow myself to have fun. And, ideally, I'd enjoy drinking more wine and and hearing it a little less.
Unfortunately, as I find in all aspects of our lives/adventures, the higher things get, the longer and harder they fall. It never fails that I take the kids to Disneyland (Jumpin' Jamin', Scooters Jungle, the petting zoo, park, etc.), and after our great and joyous outing, the boys are unable to stop their inevitable tantrums and floor-flopping breakdowns (this goes more for Nate than Will, who's fairly good natured still).
Tonight was fairly comical as I look back on it. Of course, the large glass of now sour wine my mom had left in the fridge a few days ago that I'm gulping down could be part of why I now think it was a bit funny.
Our day started off great, with friends over to play, and fairly decent behavior for all the tots and sharing and all that. Times like those give me hope that maybe the boys are doing okay with me, the crazy-lady-mom, raising them. Will had an early nap and woke up early. It's always a challenge for me to help the kids keep good spirits and behavior through the afternoons and dinner time. Today was no exception. Nate and Will were thoroughly enjoying their attempt at making me go mad, so I decided to pack them up and head to a movie at the theater: Kung Fu Panda. Rick had to fly to Salt Lake City for a conference tomorrow, so it was just me and the little guys.
We had success (beside Will fighting the bejesus out of me to not strap him into the car seat and fighting to not get out of the car when it was finally time to get out - he does this every time - it's really cutting down on my latte stops) getting into the theater, dinking around on the video games, and picking out snacks - I even let them be crazy and we got a medium (huge!) popcorn, a medium (huge) pop, and a big bag of sour patch kids. I should have known I would be cruisin' for a bruisin' at that point. The boys were actually great through the movie. . . a little restless at the end, but what one or two year old wouldn't be? I have to say, I highly recommend it. It was action-packed and fun. Anyhoo, the manure hit the pan in the restroom afterward.
The three of us went into the handicap stall as typical. Yes, having a one and two year old is a valid handicap. I went to the bathroom and flushed. And Nate got so upset that he didn't get to flush, he did a twenty second wide-open-mouth-I'm-going-to-scream-move. Then it poured out. Violent screaming, red-faced crying. SCREAMING. He completely lost it. I tried to cool him down, failed, and snuck a spank (something I'm trying not to do - dang, I lost it, too), of course, that didn't help. I left the stall with Will and tried the "calm down, it's time to go, hold my hand" which didn't even register with him. He probably couldn't hear me. I left him in the stall screaming (it was adjacent to the sinks) so I could wash my hands. I did the "it's going to be awfully lonely staying the night in the bathroom, so you better come with us" - no luck. Finally, by bluffing a really good "I'm going to leave and if you want to come with us, you better follow me", he came out, still screaming bloody murder. Two nice moms, both who happened to have two boys close in age, a year or two older than my boys, came up at different times to tell me they'd been there.
I carried sweaty, angry Nate through the lobby (thankfully he clung and didn't kick), down the escalators, to the car. Opened his door, set him in his chair, walked around the car, put back-arching, seat-gripping Will in his seat. Chased Nate (who had gotten out because I hadn't strapped him in (No! I do it!! Scream! Wail!)) through several cars in the parking garage. And, because it never fails, there was a car waiting for me to load the kids so they could take my parking space. They probably got it on video and we'll be starring on utube.com tonight. Nate screamed the entire car ride home, when I unbuckled him, drug him off of the floorboards of the car, and had to lock the car doors because he kept trying to get back in the car (because "our house is yucky!"). I left him screaming in the driveway (we live at the end of a previously quiet cul-de-sac) while I got Will in the house and started the broiler for salmon. When I went out and checked on Nate several minutes later, he hadn't calmed down a lick. He couldn't be held. He couldn't reason with me. He couldn't "use his words". He was just out of control with no way to calm down.
Just before bedtime tonight, with the help of my little sculpture of the mom hugging her two little boys, Nate shared some of his feelings. He told me I'm not a bad mommy, I'm a "good mommy" and that when he's mad, I'm sad (which I've told him). Then he made like he was scratching the mommy and pulling her hair and said "I hurt you!". Owy and a little scary. I think I've created my old little Chucky doll.
This is the third day in a row Nate's thrown a monstrous tantrum based on control issues. At least the potty throughout the house bit has passed. All I can do is try to keep my wits and to be as consistent as I can . . . to keep my word when I say something and show them I love them no matter what.
When I look at these battles, I feel like I'm not doing anything right. I can only hope that in the big picture, what counts is, that I'm here, I'm trying, I care, and no matter what, all I want is the best for my babies. Being a mom is the most challenging occupation in the world. It's the most important thing to be successful at. I've always worked my tail off to succeed academically and in my career. I always felt in control of my successes and my failures. This parenting throws all that out the window. It's difficult to see what I've sewn. There are no exams to judge me or to let me know where my weaknesses and strengths are. Part of me wants to start working just because I'm so afraid of being so fully responsible for my own kids. I've got to suck it up. I've got to dig down and find patience. I've got to cut myself some slack and allow myself to have fun. And, ideally, I'd enjoy drinking more wine and and hearing it a little less.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
