Ok, right now, I'm trying to write a story, while Little is trying very hard to distract me with a temper tantrum.  Seriously, she's barely over a year, and already she's got the flailing arms, kicking legs, and oh my lord, the screech.  Oh, and did I mention, it was because I refused to give her my wedding ring to play with?

So, life's been crazy lately.  Seriously, who knew something spilled on the floor could be both sticky and slippery? 

I have lately discovered that the "why" stage of questioning we hit at about age three gets repeated when your own children hit about five. 

Why are there soap bubbles?  Where the freak are they coming from?
Why are there diapers in the dishwasher?
Seriously kid, why's your shirt upside down?  How'd you manage that?


Anyway, my husband needs the computer, the baby is crying, and I know I've been away a while, but I'll be back real soon!

We're sorry, your call cannot be completed as dialled.

Little just got the cell phone. She was very excitedly hitting buttons, babbling about her daddy when she accidentally hit the off button:

Caw Da-de! caw Da De!...oooops

How to do the dishes.

1. Open dishwasher.
2. Get Little off dishwasher door; move her to other side of room.
3.  Remove silverware.  KNIVES FIRST! KNIVES FIRST!
4. Grab little before she grabs the forks; distract with toys.
5. Remove other flatware.
6.Take Little out of dishwasher again.
7. Take plates away from Little, distract with Tupperware/wooden spoon.
8.Remove plates.
9.Remove diaper Little has-surprisingly neatly-put in dish rack.
10. Get Little off dishwasher door; move her to other side of room.
11. Start unloading top rack.
12. Admire Little's dance moves as she tries to shimmy her way up to the top rack.
13. Put cups away.
14. Get Little out of dishwasher.

Attempt to load dirty dishes in washer; think better of it and leave until bedtime.

Last Friday night, I was really tired and achy.  So tired, that I went to bed before the kids.  However, I did not go to sleep right away. 

See, Big had just gotten out of a bath.  Husband sent him to his room to get pajamas on, while he cleaned up the baby.  Basically, Big is in his room-directly opposite mine-and Husband is downstairs, in the kitchen.  Husband has obviously told Big not to be too loud, as Mommyomy is trying to sleep.  And I hear the following:

(Loud whisper) Daddy!...Daddy!  Daaaaady...I need a shirt daddy!  Daddy?  Daaaaaddddy

And don't ask me how I know, but I knew, I just knew...

There was a completely naked little boy outside my door.

The Conversation that Ensued

 Big?

Hi Mommy!

Hi, Honey.  Um, are you...wearing clothes?

Um, I was? putting on clothes?  but I can't find a shirt.

Ok, baby, but, you've got underwear in your room, right?

(clearly not getting where I am going) yeah...

And pants?  You've got pj pants, or sweats?

Yeah...

So why don't you put those on?

But...I need a shirt.

But maybe you can put on your pants and then get a shirt?

But the shirts are downstairs?

So, how about you put on your pants, and THEN go downstairs and tell Daddy about your shirt problem?

OH!....Ok.

In other news, Little spent a good deal of Saturday pulling tissues out of a box ("bah!") and then stuffing them back in ("bah-bah!")  And it only cost a dollar for for a day full of joy! Take THAT Fancy Toy Store!

Milking it.

If you give Little some milk, chances are she's going to dribble it all over and want a napkin to clean it up.
If you give her a napkin, chances are she'll drop it over the side of her high-chair, and say "bah-bye!"
Chances are good that the napkin will not reciprocate, and she'll want another one.

If you give her another napkin, chances are that she'll just throw it on the floor again.
When you stop giving her napkins, chances are, she's going to throw a fit.
If she throws a fit, chances are, she's going to throw her sippy of milk.
And if she throws her sippy of milk, chances are you're really going to need some napkins.

Too bad you gave them all to the baby.

Sigh.

Sorry, Mary Poppins-I didn't mean it!

I'm not sure what is up with Little, but there has been a lot of waking up in the middle of the night lately.  Sometimes, it's a kvetchy-not-quite-awake crying, which will peter in and out for a few minutes (unless she manages to pull herself upright and then try to fall asleep standing at the side of her crib, that is apparently NOT SO COMFORTABLE), sometimes it's an all-out WAH-FREAKING-AH that lasts for hours.  And wakes up her brother.  Though, not, apparently, the only other adult in the house.

So, last night, I went to sleep ridiculously early.  And though Little did wake up before dawn, I got a decent amount of sleep.

Unfortunately, I spent the entire night dreaming I was trying to get Little to sleep.  Oh, and plotting to do in Mary Poppins. 

Well, he IS a 5 year-old boy...

So, Big is in kindergarten, and learning to write.  The teachers encourage the students to start by writing the sounds they hear, without worrying about spelling.  (There's a name for this system, but I forget what it is.)
One of the first activities they had the kids do was fill in a page on what they did to get ready for the first day of kindergarten.  And then, they posted them on the wall. Outside.  For ALL the parents to see.

Thank goodness they also provided a translation, (for the record, it's "eat fruit"), because apparently, Big wrote:

To get ready for kindergarten I:   FRT

Crazy Poetry

Just so you know, this is the second time I'm writing this.  Don't know what's up with the blogosphere today, but you betcha I will be copying this before I hit post again.

Anyway, I was cleaning up today (no, really-Big lost a library book and it's due tomorrow) and I found these.  I thought I'd save them for prosperity.

Fruit Stand  I

A peach,
a plum-
two different worlds-
meet in the fruit aisle
and get along well.

Meanwhile,
a stray cucumber
finds itself in the freezer compartment
and is not well received.
The raisins in the meat section
receive much the same treatment
to their chagrin.

Fruit Stand II

Mango and papaya
flit silently
across the aisle
heading for the salad bar.
Oh, silly, silly fruits of the topics!
You'll never find a drink there
and your clandestine rendezvous will be only a disappointment.
No matter how exotic your origins,
you'll never make it past the fish counter.

These poems were written when I was rather sick and feverish.  Kinda shows, doesn't it?   This next one was written after some sleep deprivation/REM cycle interruption.

Reality/Dream

In reality,
my nephew is named M*
and dirty laundry stays in my house
(if not always the hamper.)

In my dream,
my nephew is called Nicky,
and I have a pile of dirty socks in my sister's back yard.

In reality,
I'm a fairly decent dresser
by which I mean I always wear clothes appropriately-
shirt, shoes, dresses, etc.

In my dream,
undergarments are suitable outfits for winter and walks,
but not,
for some reason,
driving.

In reality,
I'm normal
though I do mean that in the loosest sense of the word.
In my dreams,
I have superpowers
but no one else seems to know this.


*Name withheld for privacy.  Poor kid doesn't need the world knowing we share the same gene pool.

Mommyomy Rewind

Before I started this blog all of five seconds ago, I kept a file.  Basically, this blog...just not online.  Every so often I review.  This is a story about Big, who is five-years-old and completely wacky.  He hasn't got a lot of play here yet, so consider this an introduction.

About three years ago...

I told Big he could go into my room and play with the cat, but he couldn't take his cherrios in with him.  Miracle of miracles, he listened.

Now, if only I knew where he put them.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Found them!  They were in the tub!

Screecher Creature

Little is a screamer.  She screams when she's mad, unhappy, or just wants attention.  Sometimes, she screams because she's curious.  Often, all these things come down to:

Mad:  Mommy, you're not HOLDING me!!!!!

Sad:  Mommy, where did you gooooooooooo?  Come back!  You don't need the bathroom!  Your bladder can take it!

Attention:  Mommy, forget about dinner.  No one needs clean underwear-I'll share the diapers.  Just LOOK AT ME!  LOOK AT ME NOW!!!  WAAAAAAAAA!!!!!

Curious:  Hey, Mommy, that's cool!  I WANT that!

Notice a theme here?

It's hard enough getting through the day with a Screecher Creature-chances are, you're up during the night, too.

But seriously, folks, I'm not paying any extra for the sarcasm or the judgementalness, ok?

I get it-I really do.  I get out of libraries ASAP if Little Miss Screams-Her-Head-Off starts up.  And I completely understand wanting to savor some coffee in peace.  But please, just consider the fact often times, it's JUST not feasible to pick up a screaming kid and leave immediately.  

Like when you are trying to buy groceries because you're completely out of milk or diapers or laundry detergent.  These are not luxuries.  And stores really don't like it when you  walk out without paying, or abandon shopping carts full of food in the middle of the store.  They dislike it so much they may ask you not to come back.  They also really hate when you take the stuff without paying for it at all.  Screaming doesn't translate to currency.

Or when you've got more than one child to wrangle and explain why you've got to leave before you said you would.

And sometimes, you just REALLY need that cup of coffee, if only for a short lived delusion that there is some scrap of sanity hiding in the caffiene that will help me make it home after a sleepless night followed by a packed day of errands.  Promise to get it to go.

I get it.  It's hard for you too.  You're frustrated.  I even understand the dirty looks.

But seriously folks, I don't need people telling me what I'm doing wrong.  I don't need you to snap at me in front of my children, or try to shame me for not being perfectly in tune with the needs and wants of my infant, and the needs and wants of every other person in the vicinity. Telling me what NOT to do does not help to fix the problem.   It does make me madder, more frustrated, and more likely to respond in kind.

Having a Screecher Creature is hard enough.   I'm trying to teach her other options, but she is, after all, a baby.  She can't talk yet, and it's frustrating for her too, and it's going to take a while for her to get it.  

So, please, just show her a good example, and don't throw a temper tantrum because of a Screecher Creature.  I'm trying to break her of the habit.

 

Forgot the cheese.

Must remember to retrieve the cheese from the laundry.  Must remember

gwhat's gup?

My baby is 13 months old.  For the sake of anonymity (she can't help who her mother is, poor girl), I will refer to her as little G, or g.  'Cause I think it's cute.

Any way, here's a real time G report.

Carefully unpacking the clean laundry basket into bumbo seat.
Hm.  Can't get her to wear headbands, but she will put Daddy's socks on her head.
Um, honey, cheese doesn't go into the clean laundry...
Yes, I guess toast DOES taste better once you've dropped it on the floor a few times...

Ok, we like to right CLICK. and sHE FOUND THE CAPS LOCK. 

Let's see if we can get a word from our sponsor, shall we?


aaaaaaaZE`

Back to me: G tried to navigate away from the page, and I've taken over.  Now, we have screams.  Gotta go!

More at 11


                                             

Introducing Mommyomy

People often ask me, "Mommyomy, how do you raise two children and you know, don't go crazy?" 

And I answer, "Holy cow, was I supposed to stay sane?"

Actually, noone ever asks me that, but I think it makes a decent intro, no?

Welcome to my blog!  I am Mommyomy, mother of two, one of whom spent the entire creation of this blog trying to feed her toast to the computer whilst she chanted 'no no no' to herself. 

I sincerely hope I'm not alone.