Tuesday, August 26, 2008

How To Distract Boys Who Are Worried Their Kitten Will Die

During tonight's shower & get ready for bed extravaganza, the toilet was filled and not flushed and our kitten, an adventurous sort, leaped up to investigate. She slipped on some drips on the seat, though, and fell in. SPLASH! She immediately leaped out and began to lick her leg. EEEEEWWW! KIPPAH'S DRINKING PEE-PEE!

Chris, being of sound (if angry & frustrated) mind, picked the dripping kitten up and deposited her in our shower, where she could be enclosed for a nice wash. The children finally got their wits about them and fled to their beds, tearful that the kitten might be about to die. SHE DRANK PEE.

I washed the kitten. Then, as Chris hadn't been successful at calming the boys, I went in...with this:

"Drinking pee-pee is gross. It is disgusting and you should NOT do it, BUT...it will not kill you. In fact, if you are stranded on a sailboat on the ocean, you should drink your own pee-pee, you should not drink the salty ocean. If you are stranded in a sailboat on Lake Erie, though, drink Lake Erie - it's marginally better than your own pee. IF YOU ARE NOT STRANDED ON THE OCEAN IN A SAILBOAT, do not drink your own pee. Even though it won't kill you."

Lars tried to interject with a question, but I cut him off, "NO QUESTIONS. GO TO SLEEP."

Both boys seem to have forgotten their worry that the kitten might die.


cross posted at reason enough...

Monday, August 25, 2008

High points of a Family Reunion

Let's see. Was it making Samuel write lines: "I am very blessed to have a brother"? Or was it on the drive home when my husband said, "One more word out of either of you and you're walking home"? Probably then. When Will said, "But, Daddy!" and he forced Will out of the car, got out with him, and I cheerily drove on.

Although I did stop long enough to hand them caps and a bottle of water...
I have a couple of doozy worst mama posts started in my head. One of them about forcing my crying son to poop in the woods behind t-ball practice will see the light of day soon.

But right now I am just wondering if it would be less abusive to lock myself or my children in the closet for the rest of the day.

I. hate. Mondays.

Yet another Mommy Driveby for Lady Epiphany

It was a miscommunication. I'd said, we'll each take a kid and rinse off the sand in the ocean. He'd replied, make sure we have shoes because the sand is hot. I was picking up shoes for 30 seconds? a minute? when I realized Alec was walking Lauren to the water...and Lindsay was no where to be seen.

I know you Mamas know that feeling you get when you realize you don't know where your kid is. It's food poisoning, getting the wind knocked out of you, and the sky falling at once. I looked frantically around the beach.

"There's a baby!" A woman screamed. "There's a baby all by herself! Whose baby?!"

I walked toward the screaming and looked at her.

"Is your baby wearing a pink bathing suit?"

"Yes."

"She's over there," pointing about 25 yards away, "she's lost and she's crying!"

"Thank you." I replied, walking toward Lindsay.

"You have to watch them every minute," she screamed practically in my ear, "you've got to keep better track of your baby! You nearly lost her!" She followed me, screaming like this, and I thought, I don't have time to talk.

Lindsay was not crying, as she didn't know she was lost. She thought she was on a toy hunt, and I found her negotiating a yellow watering can from a mom who was not going to lend it even briefly.

I scooped Lindsay up, and we headed for the ocean to rinse the sand off.

Thursday, August 21, 2008

Call Social Services...

I've been absent for awhile, but not because I haven't been daily ruining the lives of my children through consistently shoddy parenting. I've just been slacking on the blogging front but seriously, is anyone really surprised by that? What I'm wondering today is, if I allowed my 4-year-old daughter to get a bra and wear it out in public and then even took pictures of her in it and posted them on the Internet*, does that net me some points up in this piece?

http://spawntimes.blogspot.com/2008/08/kind-of-disturbing.html

*Blogger considers "internet" a proper noun.

Monday, August 18, 2008

Equal Work To What I Paid

Our house is cleaner than it's been in ages tonight because Ross didn't put any effort at all into his skating camp today. When he got home, I told him he owed me two hours and fifteen minutes of work to make up for the time he wasted at camp. When he balked, I reminded him that I can have him lay around and do nothing for free at home and, since hockey camp is NOT free, he owed me some effort. I had him shower (cold, he let his ten minutes of hot water run while he sat on the toilet) and eat lunch, then I set a timer for 2:15 and ran his rear off! He picked up playroom, the lab, and his bedroom. He vacuumed downstairs, upstairs, and the stairs. He set the table, put away laundry, cleaned the kitty litter and swept the front porch. After the kids went to bed, I went up and ran through my bathroom with some cleanser and now, the house looks great!

I am of two minds about the rest of the week. I really hope today was enough of a lesson to him that he'll skate the rest of camp but, if it wasn't, there are two more bathrooms to do and the yards could use a little sprucing up...

Wednesday, August 6, 2008

Soundbites from our home.

We are driving in the van yesterday afternoon. Allie, age 11, is sitting in the backseat listening to her ipod.

Allie: You know, Mom, Hannah Montanah doesn't actually have that great a voice.
Me: Hmmm, you don't think so?
Allie: No. But her songs would actually be pretty good if someone like me sang them.
Me: Ha! (I burst out laughing) You think so, huh?

******
The whole family is sitting together for dinner. The menu is from the the Wendy's drive-thru. (Zero Nutrition Thursday came a bit early this week.) We were all talking when suddenly Clara, barely 2, shouts from her highchair:

"YOU WANNA PIECE A ME?!"

******
A couple hours ago we were getting ready to read books before bedtime. I sent Ben, age 4, in to pick up his toys first. I looked down and he was standing next to me.

Me: Ben, what are you doing? Did you pick up your animals yet?
Ben: Mo-om! (He stomps his feet and flops his arms for emphasis) I tried to put them away and they wouldn't fit in the FREAKIN bucket!

******
Oy. We may need a refresher course on manners.

Saturday, August 2, 2008

One Actual Child WAS Harmed During the Making of this Film Clip

I posted this at my place earlier this morning, but the off-screen aftermath is a classic Worst Mama moment. I laughed so hard during filming that I had to haul a** to the ladies, leaving my child alone and balancing precariously atop a skateboard while his father was (actually) on the floor of the kitchen in hysterics - without a direct line of vision on our skating prodigy. You can imagine what happened when Z toppled off the board and fell three inches to the hardwood. Oof!