Nightmare On My Street

The kid’s bedtime. You either love it or hate it. Love may be too strong of a word. Lets’ try this, you either don’t mind it or you hate it. My husband hates it. I don’t mind it. So it works for us. But I think most parents can agree that they look forward to the after bedtime part. However, our kids like to make this an event. I would compare it to the circus, but not in the ohh this is so much fun kind of way. More like the ohh this is bright shiny chaos kind of way. I mean seriously, the expectations/list is simple: Put on your pajamas. Put your water by your bed. Brush your teeth. Go potty. Get into bed. And if that goes smoothly and we have time, we can read a book before prayers. We even start this routine like an hour before bed and somehow they eat up that entire hour with these “simple” tasks. We also have a family dance party before bedtime, to get them tired. It totally works, but the moment we say “Alright it’s time for bed lets get upstairs!” This is what our kids hear:

“Alright it’s time for bed, let’s get upstairs! However, I need you to not be able to see your filled water cup by the stairs. So I need you to automatically panic and search the entire first floor of the house for said cup. Running by the cup, while blocking out everything we say to you so finding your cup, that is in the exact same spot every night, is incredibly frustrating for you. When you finally find it, you will realize it is way too heavy for you to carry up the stairs with all 32 of your favorite stuffed animals. And those stairs that we told you to go up 15 minutes ago are more than likely covered in molasses or some slow motion charm, so that it makes it near impossible for you to get up the stairs at a reasonable speed. You may need to sit down and block your sibling’s path so you can argue about who is going first. Congratulations, you’ve finally made it up the stairs!

Now it’s time to put on your pajamas. Please grab your siblings’ pajamas that are entirely too small for you and get stuck in them and then proceed to run around the living room screaming until we come to peel them off of you. Accuse us of shrinking your clothes. And remember, don’t put your cups by your bed yet. Please leave them by the top of the stairs so they can roll back down or become invisible again. Now brush your teeth. Please smear some toothpaste in your hair and on the mirror. Mommy loves that. She loves cleaning bathrooms especially. And don’t brush your teeth per se. Just chew on the bristles really hard and suck all the toothpaste off, meanwhile running the water from the faucet the entire time. Don’t forget to stir the spittel and water in the sink thoroughly with your toothbrush!

Now please go potty. Please just go potty or dance around in front of the toilet blocking your sibling who really has to go. Scream as loud as you can until they move. That’s so fun. Now sit on the potty for 20 minutes and make up a song. Then use about 30 or so squares of toilet paper, just enough to scare mommy and daddy, that you might clog the toilet. Don’t’ flush. Wash hands with just cold water and wipe your wet hands on your pajamas and then please complain that your pj’s are wet.

Now the real fun part begins. Please choose which bedroom and bed would please you most to sleep in. Then please argue amongst yourselves about it for a while. We understand sleeping in the same place is not for you and it keeps mommy and daddy on their toes not knowing where anyone is consistently. Now that is settled, run and dive into your bed. Please jump on the bed like a deranged kangaroo and nearly miss knocking your teeth out on the headboard. Please arrange all 32 of your favorite stuffies around to protect you. Then panic when your favorite lovie is missing. Yes it may change daily, how silly of us not to keep track of it. Lets go search the entire house until we find it in the refrigerator. See that was fun. Okay time to turn on the nightlight! Please tell me how much light you need and then change your mind a few times, until it suits you. Of course, please demand a book! Then act completely surprised and disappointed that we don’t have time to read a book. Tell us how rude that is, repeatedly. Now hide under all the covers in your bed. Say your prayers under there. Don’t surface for hugs and kisses. Then please scream at us when we leav,e that you don’t have your water! Then act shocked when we ask you where it is. Then repeat this every night until we die.”

Okay it may not always be this bad… or is it? If this season in your life sounds familiar, remember you are not alone. If you’ve made it out of this season alive, you are my hero. If this isn’t even on your radar… you’ve been warned.

Hairy Situations with a Side of Streaking

I don’t know if this is normal for everyone else, but I have to completely prepare myself the night before for outings the next day. Going out into public with my three (O is 5, M is 3 and C is 20 months) is insane. I often feel like I’m preparing for battle. Coffee maker is ready. I have the clothes laid out, ready to go. The shoes are by the door. The diaper bag is fully stocked with the essentials and snacks of course, to help the hangry melt downs. Water bottles are ready to be filled and I have in mind what breakfast is going to be. I have them covered, but I can’t tell you how many times I’ve left myself uncovered. Bra, what bra?? Damn it! But come on this is motherhood. No matter how prepared we try to be things are always chaotic. Or is that just me?

I called my mother today on my way home from the girl’s haircuts and had the discussion of, is this normal or just my circus? When we get to the salon I find a parking space right by the front door! Score, one it is a 100 degrees out and two I don’t have to dodge other cars with the kids. I get the kids inside and run into my first obstacle, the giant glass bowl of mints. O runs right up and dives her hand in.

“One! Just one!” I yelp as I’m hanging onto M by the armpit, as she decides to go limp and dump out her Daniel Tiger backpack full of ABC blocks in the elegant entryway. On the other side I have my hand tight around C’s leash. Okay, time out, don’t get high and mighty with me. C is wearing a super cute bright pink butterfly back pack, that she loves, and it just so happens to have a little leash attached on the back of it. She gets the feeling of freedom running around and I get the feeling of reassurance she won’t get hit by a car. Win win.

O gives me a furrowed brow and grabs a couple mints. “One is for M!” she justified. A nice older gentleman sees my peril and helps M put her blocks back in her bag. I sincerely thank him and make my way back outside to the court yard to my stylist suite. The one thing I have going for me, is that it’s a small courtyard with no other exits. It has a beautiful water fountain in the middle and lots of pretty plants. The other suites have big windows looking out into the yard. When we get there, the girls excitedly move into her suite. Shoes are taken off, The Grinch is starting on the IPad and snacks are being distributed. O quickly unwraps her mint and shoves it in her mouth and climbs up into the chair. Everyone is engaged and being good. So I stupidly take a relaxed breath. You know what that means.

As I’m watching O get three inches of her hair cut off, I hear a big gush of water followed by a startled tiny scream. My stylist and I both jumped and turned around to see M standing at the shampoo bowl on the chair, being pummeled with water by the hose. The stylist quickly turned off the water and I assessed the damage. M looked like she just took a causal stroll through a car wash. So I stripped her down to her pull-up and cowgirl boots, and mopped up the mess. In the meantime as I’m wiping up the floor, I notice C isn’t watching The Grinch. In fact she isn’t in the suite at all. Shit! My heart starts to race once again and before I can completely panic I see the end of the pink leash stuck in the door. I run over to the door and look out. She is leaning forward like she is flying, being supported by the entrapped leash. I grab the end and open the door. She is quite pleased with herself for escaping, well kind of, during the chaos. Sometimes I wonder if these two plan these moments.

I pick up C and set her back by the movie. Then I turn around to see a naked toddler in a pull-up and cowgirl boots run by, giggling uncontrollably. Wait, NO!!! That’s my naked cowgirl giggling toddler! I run out into the courtyard to get her and of course she thinks this is the best game ever. As I’m chasing her I can see people coming to the windows laughing really hard at this spectacle. I finally catch her and M says “Yay mommy you did it! I’m so proud of you!” Thanks M. We finally make it through the haircuts. Did I mention my stylist is a saint for putting up with us? As I’m trying to pay, C is rearranging all the product on the shelves. M is trying to climb the chair to get a cup of coffee and O is just staring in the mirror, posing with her fabulous new hair style.

We make it all the way to the entrance with no more incidents and I think we are in the home stretch, I mean I can see the car out front, when M takes off for the stairs. Did I forget to mention that M is still only wearing a pull-up and cowgirl boots during all of this? O see’s the giant glass bowl of mints and heads over to grab some more. I start after M, as I’m yelling “No more mints O!” However I forget that I have a small little person attached to me by a leash and starting dragging her along with me. The receptionist jumps up to help me out and grabs M, as I’m trying to help up poor little confused C.

“Please let me help you out to your car. I see you have your hands full.” the receptionist said kindly.

“Thank you so much and you have no idea.” I replied.

Mombie

I loved watching horror movies growing up. It could be that I’ve lived in a haunted house (another story for another time) and the unknown just fascinates me. Every Halloween I’d treat myself to a new horror movie to add to my collection. However, as I’ve gotten older and have had kids, I just can’t handle them like I used too. Now if I do watch them, it has to be at 10 a.m. on a Saturday. Which is a feet in itself to watch anything other than PJ Masks anymore. There is something about getting up in the middle of the night and walking around in the dark, feeling your way around towards someone who is screaming, that can be a bit unsettling. Or when you’re greeted by a tiny shadow bobbing down the dark hallway and it takes everything in you not to kick and scream “away tiny demon!”. Forget the images of a monster under your bed kids. If you want to see something equally if not more frightening, just turn the lights on as your mother is finding her way to you in the dark. Her hair going every which way like Medusa, wild crazy eyes (because you’ve woken her up, yet again), breath that would turn on Shrek, possibly a drool stain from the corner of her mouth, pillow case creases on her forehead and her robe dragging behind her because she was to damn tired to put both arms in. I’d take my chance with the monster under the bed. So I’ve had one of those weeks where I haven’t had a full nights sleep since… okay let me think… maybe it was the summer of 2014, come to think of it. Anyway rough week, but we must carry on! The food scene was becoming dire in our house so I had to make a quick trip to Walmart. My husband and I divided the kids and conquered the store as quickly as possible w/o any break downs. When we got to the check out line I stayed and he took the kids out to the car. I had a young boy, probably high school age checking me out. I said hello and started emptying my cart. He responded with hello and then began telling me how much he weighed. “I weighed 203 and now I weigh 198. I lost 5 pounds in one day.” he began. I was like oh so are we sharing random facts today. Suppressing my sarcastic comments I congratulated him on his success. He went on to tell me he decided that he is going to lose a pound a day for the next month, as mater of fact as telling me my shoe was untied. Again trying to be nice I said I hope you do. Then he dives in telling me about portion control and drinking water. I couldn’t respond anymore. Just scan my damn Eggo waffles and be done with this! I could tell he could sense my please shut the hell up vibes, which was nice that he could pick up on some social ques. So then he tells me how tired he is….. and that it was just awful that he had to wake up at 6:45 a.m.. If I could sleep that late, I would throw a party. Well a party if everyone would leave by 9 and clean up after themselves. I couldn’t help myself, “Are you really complaining to me about being tired?”. He just looked at me. “Did you see all the kids I just had in here? I haven’t slept in years. And you know what kids do to your body? They stretch it out and fat goes into new places you didn’t even know existed.” The poor kids eyes were wide and he just awkwardly stared at me. Then a thought occurred to me. Maybe moms aren’t just scary to encounter when they are sleep deprived in dark hallways. They are scary out in the wild as well. As I loaded up my cart and walked away. I was pleased to know I hadn’t scarred the poor kid for life. As the next customer said hello, he told her how much he weighed…

The Cutest Moocher

Going out to eat with your littles is always an adventure. My husband and I are big foodies. We used to love to go out to eat, try new places and new cuisines. Now going out to eat usually involves my husband whisper shouting empty threats, spilled drinks, the kids hanging over the back of the booth trying to spark conversations with the unfortunate soul trying to eat their meal in peace and me crawling under the table to find the damn binky and picking up the enormous pile of food that our kids have left behind. Half of which I’m pretty sure isn’t all ours, but I don’t want to be “those people” so I clean. After swearing off never going out again, we do and it’s the same madness. However, it gets a little easier as they get older. So there is light at the end of the curry, I mean tunnel. Ohh curry sounds delicious. With school starting tomorrow I told O (4) that we could celebrate by going out to eat. I made the mistake of asking her where she wanted to go, because it’s always one of two place Chick-Fila or McDonald’s. I’ve got to give it to her, they have the best play areas. I’m sorry I mean Old McDonald’s according to O. Today we headed to Chick-Fila to meet up with some good friends for lunch. As I was waiting in line to order, I noticed a homeless man sitting alone at a table trying to sleep. Which is a hard thing to do when there are a million screaming hangry kids running around. Mine included. I was thinking to myself I should get him a meal or maybe a gift card, so he could use it whenever. Then I see my friend laughing, I mean really laughing. So of course I had to lean out of line to see what she is laughing at and I see my middle child M (2) sitting with a random family, eating and talking away like they were life long friends that just so happen to run into each other. I jump out of line, run over and scoop her up. I’m apologizing profusely, as I’m prying a french fry out of her tiny yet extremely strong hand. Then I find myself trying to hand back the freshly chewed fry. Gross. Luckily they were extremely gracious and thought this was hilarious and kept telling me how cute she is. Cute yes, but I apparently need to work with her on social boundaries a little more. I was still mortified and swore to them I do really feed her once in a while. I think they believed me, however they made me keep the fry. Luckily our food showed up shortly after this whole ordeal and M was satisfied. Then I remember the poor homeless man I was going to feed and he was gone. Guess it was a sign that I needed to focus on feeding my own kids so they don’t have to beg for food in restaurants.

That Was a Close One

Christmas is over and it’s a start to the new year. This past weekend was beautiful and we took down the last of our outside Christmas decorations. I mean it’s 353 days until Christmas people. Talk about putting your stuff out early! My husband and I really get into decorating. By our front door we have a 3 foot Santa and Nutcracker. My kids love them. Probably because they are about the same height. My two year old usually greets them with a hug and kiss. My four year old on the other hand was a little bit more skeptical about them. I may have told her that the elf on the shelf needed some back up to keep an eye on things. Don’t even get me started on the elf on the shelf bit. First off she wasn’t buying it and second my husband and I were the worst at remembering to move the damn thing. As I was packing things up in the kitchen I see O (the 4-year-old) loitering in the hallway next to the giant Santa. Me: “O, Whatcha doin? Need anything?” O: “Nope I’m good mama.” I walk away pretending I’m not paying attention One of my mommy super powers and defense mechanisms. Out of the corner of my eye I see her get real close to Santa’s face. O: “Hey, can you still hear me? Listen, I know you’ve been watching me and I know I haven’t been that good so I wanted to say thank you for telling him I was!” She then wraps her arms around him and gives him a quick hug and bolts off. Insert face palm. Well at least she believed that we have more spies around the house. I love making the holidays special for my children. Especially the part where i basically tell them inanimate objects are possessed and watching their every move reporting their behavior back to another mythical being. These are the traditions that bring us close together.