FOREVER Mommy!

A friend of mine asked me a couple of months ago if I was feeling "OK" because every time she read my blog it seemed like I was ranting about something and really down on myself. This gave me some serious pause and even lead to a fairly significant hiatus from writing. After all, my intention here is not to be Debbie Downer complete with the "Waah Waah Waah" music. After giving this some serious consideration I came up with a couple of things...#1. if my blog feels "negative" it doesn't need to be read. #2. even though I tend to complain a good bit about the in's and out's of parenthood, frankly I think that is just how I roll. I realized that it's not so much complaining as it is strenuously, emphatically observing. #3. somewhere, someone else may be bitching and nail-biting over the very same thing I bring to the table and actually not feel like Joan Crawford or Archie Bunker for losing their patience every so often. Lately my patience on this subject matter has been just about zero and I'm just curious as to how others deal with it.

Last week we had my niece from NY here for a visit  and invariably when we have company the kids kinda go wacko. Boy Wonder was "walking the dog" which consisted of pulling an entire roll of Christmas ribbon through the house by one end, leaving the other end somewhere near the Equator. Needless to say there was ribbon all over the top floor of the casa and I was none too thrilled. I walk upstairs to see this and immediately my blood boileth over. Silly? Perhaps. Real? DEFINITELY. My niece just nicely and kindly says, "Oh Chasey it looks like we have a mess here. It's OK, let's clean it up." Meanwhile I am at the top of the stairs about to have a stroke. I was inquisitive as to how she could be so patient and so happenstance about the whole thing? How she could just sweetly pick up the ribbon and get to work cleaning it up without popping a vein in her forehead was beyond me. I stood there knowing that I was some sort of defective who came unequipped with such pleasant parenting poise. I confessed that she had me beat in the patience arena and was going to be a great mom, then continued to lament over my lackluster ability to stay calm in these "moments of crisis." And then suddenly seven little words came tumbling from her lips that made this whole thing make sense..."Because you deal with it EVERY DAY!" Ahhhh! Why this hadn't occurred to me before is a mystery. And this leads me to my next segment of discussion...

In the past 2 years I have noticed a stark spike in the whole "Grand Inquisition." I did assume that Girl Wonder would come equipped with interesting and thought-provoking questions but I had no clue how rapid-fire, incessant and mind-numbing they would be. I suppose if I wasn't blessed with the Trifecta this whole thing would be more bearable but the fact that the triple-whammy is upon us just makes my head spin. I think I am going to do an experiment today and see how many times they use the word "Mommy?" in question form. This is what the drinking games of yore were made of..."OK, every time the short one says 'mommy' you have to take a shot!"...oh WOW, sounds like something straight out of the "Casey Anthony Parenting Handbook for Idiots"...

The thing is that half the time the question isn't even really a question. Again, I realize she is trying to figure out this complexity called "Life" but it can still send me for a whirl, can't it? She will ask questions about things she knows the full answer to which leads me to wonder if she KNOWS she is irritating me, if she has received a recent, unseen blunt trauma to the head by the minier version and has forgotten the answer or if she is checking to see if the answer is still the same as it was 5 minutes ago.

I can say to her, "Wow sweetie, good job on that head stand!" and she'll reply, "WHAT'S good job?"...umm, did you really just ask that? <I don't orate these words but I think them.> "Good" and "Job"--you are asking me what this is? Coming from a girl who at the age of 3 told me that her brother kept trying to swipe her milk because hers was more "impressive" and upon inquiring further to discern if she really knew what the definition of "impressive" was got this phrase back--"Yeah, you know? More appealing!" The words "good" and "job" clearly cannot baffle her. And then I have to have an internal discussion with myself as to whether or not I am really going to justify this nonsense with a response, complete with counting "1,2,3..." in my head just to keep from losing it entirely. I sense she is just looking for reiteration which at this point in the game I am all too unwilling to dole out. This whole asking question after question after question is just exhausting, making me feel more like Alex Trebec than a mom. And if they were REAL questions I think I would be more apt. Not more capable--just more apt. And this is where I am haunted by the phrase of my youth, "Are you talking just to hear yourself talk?" and wondering if there might be some validity to that statement in this situation. All I know is that it makes me want to pull my hair out.

But then there are occassions that she is asking good, hard questions. Here, my 1st assumption is that the kid is lying awake at night looking for ways to make me look stoopid. There are questions that come out her mouth that I want to vocally and strenuously answer, "SERIOUSLY!?!?" but I know upon asking that the answer is: "YES! Seriously." These are the types of questions that made me wish I had pursued a masters (or PhD for that matter) and they are rich questions that deserve answers. I, unfortunately, am just unequipped to give them. The most obvious would have to be "How did I get in your tummy?" (how does one REALLY answer that?) followed by "Are pirates real?"--do you want the long or short answer for that one? Then there's the good ol' "How is chicken made?" which brings us into the oh so comfortable topic about eating animals and which ones are off limits (at least in this country) and my favorite brain cramper of all-time, "Where do cells go when they die?" I've gone 34 years without wondering that. Perhaps now you can see why I want to bellow, "SERIOUSLY???" from the top of my lungs. Granted all viable, questions--I just have no clue how to go about answering them in 4-year-old speak.

Somehow the boy factor has entered the equation as well. He has either caught on to the aforementioned irritation and has embarked on the same barrage of "Mommy? Mommy? Mommy? Mommy?" just to light my fire from another angle or he is just hitting the ground running and hoping to wear me out physically AND mentally. They are truly turning into the dynamic duo of inquisitional doom. He's only 2 so his questions have not yet met his sister's intellect but I do believe in a short time they will. With this joker I am foreseeing things like, "Why does this thing down here poke out every morning when I wake up?" along with, "Why doesn't this "cape" work when I jump off the top of the house?" as well as "Why does dog poop taste so much worse than human poop?" At the time of writing his favorite phrase in this arena is, "Mom I have a question to ask..." but when I ask him what he wants to ask he looks at me with a blank stare--I do believe this is his 2-year-old mind gearing up for some doozies. Or I will ask him a question and his answer is "Maybe, Of course." These are the types of things that insanity is made of! Just the other day we were talking about Titin the WonderDog and I was telling Boy Wonder that Titin could do tricks also to which he asked, "Does Titin go to gymnastics too?" Ummm, not quite buddy!

All this to say is I am heading into a realm of life where patience is paramount and I seem to be fresh out. I am brought to a deeper understanding about the conquests of parenthood and recognize that this is a job not only of strength, longevity and sticktoitiveness but clearly one of wits...and ignorance. I think if I can hone in and perfect just one of those skills I would be in good shape. So either I embark on a mission to become smarter or just figure out a way to ignore the inquisitions. The Magic 8 Ball says, "Outlook not so good." Looks like "Forever Mommy" is holding a WHOLE new meaning! Wish I could have foreseen the irony in the titling of my blog. ;)

Marking His Territory

I've toiled over what to title this excerpt of parenthood...there were so many viable options. My 1st thought was "Parental Retardation"--I think that is the most glaringly obvious title. A close 2nd was "Poool Party" and this was followed by "Gut-Check Sunday." After reading this feel free to insert the title you find most fitting.

Being that it has been hotter than Africa here as of late, the kids spend most of their afternoons frolicking in our backyard blow up pool. Since we live in a quiet, residential with 7' fences we generally just let our kids do their thing when it comes to backyard clothing and 9 times out of 10 they opt for the suits of birthdays. It is also noteworthy to mention that we are embarking on the infancy stages of potty training Boy Wonder. All this to say is, we should have seen it coming.

We weren't outside for 5 minutes and the Moose is already making whizzle on the side of the pool. My instinct is a sigh of relief as I figure at least he didn't do it IN the pool. We escort him to the outdoor potty that we have placed in the grass for such opportune teaching moments and coerce him to finish his business in the appropriate location. He insists he is done and jumps back in the water. Hubba and I continue our leisurely conversation. Ten minutes later the proverbial "Stool Pigeon" bellows the 3 words we never thought possible..."MOM, HE POOPED!" Hubba and I halted and stared at each other. He then asked, "There's poop in the pool?" and she snitches, "YA, THERE'S POOP!" I was half-waiting for the voice of Spaulding from Caddyshack to scream, "Doooodie! Doooodie!" but it never came. We both ran over to the side of the pool and watched in wonder. A submarine the size of the boy's forearm made its way amongst the waves and threatened to contaminate the occupants. Hubba looked over and said "I'm speechless. I don't even know what to do!" In addition to the "forearm" there were approximately 4 other portions of small intestine doing the backstroke. I quickly grabbed the skimmer and began to excavate, thoroughly gagging throughout. I just kept shaking my head and laughing, wondering how the hell I could be so ridiculous as to let this non-potty trained kid swim sans pants. I guess it's just that he has been in this pool naked no less than 100 times this summer and has never once so much as let out a grunt. Needless to say, the pool had to be deflated, drained and disinfected.

Whilst refilling the "temporary toilet" with water the kids hung out on the perimeter. Girl Wonder sat and bounced on the overly inflated basin, turned to me a knuckle and a half up the nostril and begged, "Mommy do you want to get your suit and come swimming with us?" Her request was followed by a swift insertion of the aforementioned, booger-laden finger into her cake hole. WHY must they do this!? I beg to know. I just get done fishing tot-turds out of the watering hole and you're shoving bats from the cave down your gullet. I'm sorry to say but your request to go swimming is less than well-received when accompanied with such antics. The Hubba scolded the act and explained that it was disgusting and impolite to ingest the nasal nectar. Meanwhile I am GAGGING...again!

No sooner had we resumed our conversation when the female 411 was throwing her brother under the bus yet again. As they waded in the ankle deep water she cries, "He's peeing again!" SERIOUSLY!? I don't know what's worse, the fact that the kid has relieved himself 3 times in 30 minutes or the fact that I wasn't smart enough to put a diaper on him after the 1st indiscretion. Needless to say, swim time was over.

The kids were evicted to the other side of the yard to extract some ripened vegetables from our garden which was followed by a quick trip to the kitchen for cleansing. Lord knows the dog has also marked his respective territory and it seems he and Boy Wonder do their "marking" in a similar manner. We just don't want to run the risk of ingesting dog urine. So we usher the kids up the deck and into the kitchen and about 30 seconds into the mission the town crier yells, "Mom, he did it again! He peed on the kitchen." Sure enough, I walk in to find the kid peeing all over the kitchen cabinets, rug and floor. AWESOME. Finally I get a clue and put a diaper on the miniature schnauzer and if I could have I would have smacked myself silly for allowing all of this "marking" to take place. Why on earth would I think that my simple request of, "Please stop peeing/pooping in non-designated areas." would be heeded? And again, why would I think that simply because he had relieved himself out the gates that he was "done?" Clearly there was lots more where that came from and lots of fluid reserves to keep us on our toes.

It was a day of revelation, reality and repulsion. Another chapter of "Humble" in the novel of life. Luckily I was in good enough spirits to laugh off a majority of the excretion. Today as I was changing him for his nap he looked up at me with sad eyes and confessed, "I pooped in the pool." to which I responded, "Yes, you did and how did that make you feel?" to which he stated, "Not very great." This was the perfect segue into the life lesson that everyone makes mistakes, life is not fool-proof and we are usually given a second chance to try things again. It felt good to be able to have that conversation with him. He smiled largely and gave me a tight hug. Guess I should take a piece of my own advice and lighten up on myself as without this written record of the incident it would all be forgotten 5 years from now as is true of most of our mistakes. My take home message here is, even if you are having a moment of "Parental Retardation" there is still a good chance that you'll get a re-do with the same exact predicament and an even better chance that you'll be the only one holding on to the memory of the mistake. I'm just trying to live each day better than the last. I'm not always successful but this is my goal. Even if I don't achieve this goal, I know there are little eyes watching me try and hopefully seeing that even if we can't take back our mistakes we can make every last effort to do it better next time!

Here's to always trying to do it better!