Stuck Under a Baby

Category: Adventures in Mommyhood

  • Camping in the Living Room

    We were supposed to go camping today.  It was just going to be for one night.  Monkey was excited – not only did it mean sleeping outside, it meant time with his cousin (and favorite person on this planet).  But Bear got sick.  She had some kind of stomach bug and could barely keep anything down.  Although she showed signs of improvement and would most likely have been on the mend by the time we went, being relatively far from civilization with a sick toddler didn’t seem like the best idea… especially with the amount of clothes and sheets we would have had to pack just to get through the night (if the previous nights were any indication of things to come).

    Monkey was disappointed, especially because, as expected, Bear no longer showed any signs of being sick (thank goodness, the rest of us seem to have escaped this bug).  All the same, it was the right decision to stay home.

    But, how do you make up for missing out on a camping trip?  Set up a tent in the living room, of course!

    I brought Monkey upstairs to get ready for bed, and while we were getting his pajamas, Papa brought his tent, lantern, and sleeping bag up from the basement.  Not wanting to deal with a real fire in the fireplace tonight, he set up several candles inside – it was enough to simulate a campfire.  Monkey went downstairs and was thrilled, especially when he got to help his Papa assemble the tent.

    They shared a snack, played a card game, told some stories, and cuddled up in their sleeping bags.

    2013-07-27 Camping 1 - edI kissed them goodnight and told them I’d be on the lookout for bears (but that they were on their own if any skunks came by).  The candles were blown out, the lantern turned off, and the tent zipped up.  I can hear gentle snores in the living room down the hall and I know that my boys went to sleep happy.

    2013-07-27 Camping 2 - ed

     

  • A Toddler, a Hat, and a House of Birds

    We went to the zoo.

    These are the players.

    IMAG2849 - ed

    This is who we went to see.

    IMAG2861 - ed

    This was what the sign on the door said.

    IMAG2862 - edThis is what she did.

    IMAG2860 - ed

    Apparently, I forgot that toddlers can’t read.

  • A Visit to the Eye Doctor

    A Visit to the Eye Doctor

    I took Monkey to the eye doctor yesterday.  There was no indication of anything being wrong, but I figured with him starting school in the fall, it couldn’t hurt to check.

    He was great… a little nervous at first, but I assured him that unless there was a problem, they would not be putting any medicine in his eyes (yes, I called and asked before I made that promise).  The receptionist took to him immediately and the chatted about their favorite superheroes as she set him up for his pre-doctor screening.

    Upon entering the examination room, he was fascinated by the mirror that reflected the TV screen behind him – in the mirror, the letters on the screen were correct; on the TV itself, they were backwards.  He checked this several times, just to be sure.

    2013-07-10 Glasses edThe doctor joined us and gave him a pair of magic glasses.  She held out a page of images I couldn’t see and Monkey quickly ran through the list of objects he discovered through his magic glasses: Triangle, circle, square, etc.  Then he paused and pointed to the square on the bottom right.  “Wait a minute!  This spot doesn’t have anything in it!”  He thought she was trying to pull a fast one on him.  She was impressed with his accuracy and skepticism.

    We made a group decision to use pictures for the eye exam instead of letters.  Even though Monkey is pretty good about identifying his letters, I thought using images would take some of the stress away (from me, that is).  He correctly identified most of the pictures: A hand, a bird, a house, a car, a cake.

    childrensEyeChartThe horse he had trouble with and I can’t blame him.  Having not seen it big, it was difficult to make out, mostly because of the fact that the horse had a man riding on its back.

    childrensEyeChart - horseHe leaned over to me and whispered, “Mama, what is that?  I can see it – I just don’t know what it is!”  The doctor, realizing by now that his eyesight was fine, told him he could skip that one and she quickly passed by it each time it reappeared.

    The image I was most concerned with was the telephone.

    childrensEyeChart - phone

    Nowhere in my house, his grandparents’ houses, or the house of anyone I know is there a rotary type phone.  Cell phones and perhaps one or two cordless phones are the only ones Monkey has ever come in contact with.  He answered correctly right away, but I think they might want to consider changing that soon.

    And speaking of modern technology, my favorite response to an unknown image came when Monkey was presented with this picture:

    childrensEyeChart - treeThis image of several curved lines that increase in size looked familiar to him, but was not identifiable.  He hemmed and he hawed.  He looked to me for an answer.  I told him to try his best and take a guess.  He examined it closely and said in an uncertain voice, “Is that the Internet?”

    The doctor and I both turned and looked at the image before us and there it was… Wi-Fi.

    plainwifi-md

    *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

    Photo credits:

    The Children’s Eye Chart image was retrieved from http://www.pediatric-ophthalmology.com/html/faq.html

    The Wi-Fi image was retrieved from http://www.clker.com/search/wifi/1

  • But, Oh, Oh, Those Summer Nights

    I hate the winter.  Sure, I love the holiday season and the twinkling of Christmas lights (which, by the way, I feel should be required to stay up until at least Presidents’ Day), but the whole getting dark at 4 o’clock thing really sucks.  The day seems to be over so quickly, I want to be in my pajamas before I’ve even had dinner, and I feel as if I should be asleep by 6 pm.  I hate the short winter days and long winter nights.  Well, I did.  Then I had children.

    Oh, how I used to long for these summer nights.  The sun setting after 9 pm, having dinner and drinks outside on a patio, going for walks, and basking in the glow of firefly lights.  But now that I have kids, I am finding it harder to enjoy these summer nights.  Our days are great – we’re playing, we’re learning, we’re enjoying our time together.  Our nights, however, are much more challenging.  At 7 pm, bathed and fed, my children want nothing more than to go back outside to play and get dirty in the garden or go for yet another bike ride.  With the sun still shining so bright, it is hard to convince them that it is actually nearing bedtime.

    Keeping the lights in the house low does nothing.  Blackout curtains do nothing (the light still seems to find its way in).  Using “The Force” to try and make the sun go down earlier does nothing.  It has become next to impossible to get my kids to bed before 9 o’clock.  Of course, this also does not mean that they sleep in the next morning.  Oh, no.  When the light peeks in through the “blackout” (yeah, right) curtains, they start tossing and turning.  They may doze on and off for a while longer, but every stir reawakens me.

    2013-06-21 Summer Nights edAt 5:01 am, I lay there and pray that they will fall back asleep.  At 5:38 am, I wonder why Bear needs to nurse again when she just did for the past half hour.  At 5:59 am, I think that no one should have to be up this early.  At 6:02 am, I debate whether or not I should get up and go to the bathroom, knowing that if I move an inch, I will wake someone under the age of five.   At 6:42 am, I am thankful that Bear fell back asleep for almost another hour (and so did I, for part of it at least).  At 6:58 am, knowing that both kids will be up for the day soon, I think how nice it would be if they each had a snooze button on their forehead.  At 7:15 am, I try to ignore the fact that I am getting jumped on by one or two tiny creatures.  At 7:16 am, someone lands on my bladder, making me rethink my 6:02 am decision.  At 7:30 am, everyone is awake and I wish I hadn’t gone to bed at 2:00 am… again.

    My point is, I guess, that I still love the summer – ice cream, beaches, carnivals, fresh fruits and veggies from our garden, and much more.  But, I could really do without the daily bedtime battle.  So, summer solstice, can you do me a favor and stay away for the next 10 years or so?  Because if you keep this up much longer, I’m going to turn into a crazy lady who starts boarding up her windows come March.  Much mahalos.

  • Dandelion Wishes

    An essential part of being a kid is picking yellow dandelions and giving them to everyone you know.  As a parent and former teacher, I have received my fair share of dandelion bouquets, worn dandelions in my hair, and even put dandelions in a vase full of water.

    But the quintessential part of being a kid is picking the whitest, fluffiest dandelions you can find, making a wish, and blowing off every last possible seed (stomping on them is super fun too).

    05-05-2013 DandelionsAs a grownup, I now know the effects of making those wishes, as more and more dandelions sprout up all over our lawn.  But, I still know the magic that lies within and don’t feel that I have the right to stand in the way of anyone’s wishes.

    And so, my children pick their dandelions, both yellow and white.  And so, I do my best to appreciate every bouquet, hair decoration, and centerpiece I am given.  And so, I watch both in horror and in wonder as hundreds of new dandelion seeds take their journey in my backyard and beyond.

    My neighbors must hate me.

  • Mommy Fail: Misadventures with Tomato Sauce

    I’ve been a mom now for four years now.  You would think that will all of this experience I would have learned one of the most basic rules of parenting: Never ever give your children spaghetti AFTER they have had their bath.

    When you do, this is what happens:

    spaghetti 1

    And then this:

    spaghetti 2

    Duh.

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    For more of Amy’s misadventures with tomato sauce, click here: sauce 1 ed

  • Mama Foofed!

    My daughter, Bear, had quite a vocabulary by 17 months of age.  At 17 1/2 months, she was trying to put two words together, but they were often separated by a very large pause as she tried to connect the two ideas in her head.

    One evening a few weeks ago, I took Bear upstairs to put her to bed.  I decided that it would be best to go to the bathroom before getting stuck under a baby for the next hour or so.  I happened to, well, um, pass some gas, which my family has given the endearing term “foofing.”  It wasn’t a remarkable foof (rhymes with hoof) or anything – just your average, every day, run of the mill foof.

    Bear giggled.  “Foof!” she exclaimed.  And she laughed some more.  “Mama!”

    “Yes, honey, Mama foofed.  Excuse me.”

    “Foof… … … Mama… … … Mama… … … Foof… … … Foof… … … Mama… … … Foof.”

    “Yes, Bear, Mama foofed.”

    “Mama… Foof.  Foof.  Foof.  Mama… Foof.”

    “I know, love.  Mama foofed.”

    “Mama foof!”

    Her first true sentence.

    “Mama foof!  Mama foof!  Mama foof!”

    “Yeah, I know.  Mama foofed.  That’s enough now.  Time for bed.”

    2013-03-17 Mama foofI brought her into the bedroom and began nursing her down for the night.  She got drowsy and I thought that she was nearing sleep.  All of a sudden, she popped off, sat up, and yelled, “MAMA FOOF!”

    She was so proud.

    ******************

    Note: Since that day, Bear has made sure to report everyone’s foofs – mine, her Papa’s, Monkey’s, and even her own.  No one can escape.  And it is now impossible to blame your foof on the baby.  Perhaps we should reconsider getting a dog…

     

  • The Ace Bandage

    Last week, I had a small procedure done on my right wrist.  When it was over, the doctor wrapped my wrist in an ace bandage and advised me to keep it dry.  In his mind, I’m sure he meant for me to take off the bandage or wrap it in a plastic bag when I showered.

    2013-01-28 ace bandage edLittle did he know that I barely shower, so it wouldn’t really be an issue.

    What he should have advised me was to keep it away from avocado, chili, ketchup, spaghetti sauce, chocolate ice cream, and boogers.

  • The Tomato Sauce Incident

    Some people say that if you have trouble opening a jar, you should gently tap on the lid.  Have you ever tried it?  I think I had in the past, but I also combined it with running the lid under hot water, using one of those rubber no-slip grip type things, and eventually giving up and waiting for my husband.  Someone, however, apparently taught my one-year old daughter, Bear, exactly how to do it.

    After yet another exhausting trip to the grocery store where we went for four things (one we purchased, two they didn’t have, and one we forgot) and ended up with a cartful of randomness, we came home in the pouring rain.  I got the groceries inside, set my son, Monkey, off to play and Bear decided she wanted to help me empty the shopping bags which were sitting on the floor in the living room.

    I heard a tapping sound and realized that what Bear was holding sounded fragile.  I peeked my head out of the kitchen and found her banging the lid of one of the jars of tomato sauce on the ground.  It made a cool sound, as evidenced by the giant grin on her face.  I gently tried to redirect by handing her the unbreakable plastic container of mayonnaise.  She was less than pleased.

    I stood up with the jar in hand, not realizing that it was upside down.  Kaboooooom!  The lid apparently couldn’t withstand the pressure and flew off the jar, launching tomato sauce everywhere.

    Monkey came running and Bear immediately dove in to start finger painting.  Then, in walks my husband.  What a sight to come home to!

    sauce 1 ed

    Papa stripped Bear down and I sopped up as much sauce as I could from the floor.  I was already wearing half the jar (you should have seen my pants!).  It looked like a crime scene from Law & Order.  *gung, gung*

    sauce 2 edI tried to clean myself up once the floor was under control.  No amount of paper towels was going to do the trick.  I plunked myself in the shower, clothes and all.

    So, if you ever have trouble opening a jar, just let me know.  I know a one-year old who will be more than happy to do it for you!

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  • The sky’s the limit, kid.

    The doorbell rang.  Dinner had arrived.

    Monkey ran to the door with his new Hess helicopter in one hand and an airplane in the other.  “Mama? Can I show him my new helicopter?!”

    The delivery guy looked in and said, “Ooh, nice helicopter and plane!” as Monkey zoomed them around.

    “Thanks!” said Monkey, beaming.

    12-06-2013 Ikea Hess ed“Do you want to be a pilot some day?” asked the delivery guy, thinking he had asked the appropriate question given what he was observing.

    Monkey turned on him.  His eyes glowed red and it was only a matter of time before the lasers began shooting out.

    Then, in a “There is no Monkey, only Zuul” type voice, he shouted, “I DO NOT WANT TO BE A

    PILOT!  I WANT TO WORK AT IKEA!”

    The delivery guy chuckled, but all I could think about was …

    Mmm… free Swedish meatballs…