Follow by Email

Friday, July 28, 2006

Risotto

I have to admit that I gave up for a while on looking for a job. It's more work then actually having a job and not to mention more depressing. You go for an interview and put yourself on display to only be critiqued by people who already have a job. It's really humiliating as they ask you questions like, " Would you be willing to work long hours and travel tons and all for little to no pay". You look at them and answer with a smile, "Of course. " When inside your really thinking that it would be great to only work a few days a week and spend time with your child and it would also be even better if the job didn't require any travel and paid twice what you were making at your last position. Funny how life doesn't seem to work out that way! Which brings me to my interview yesterday.

Hmmm, looking , looking, looking for something that fits my fat ass and I can wear to my second interview of the week. Yes, of course they loved me the first day... don't they always. It's the second day that you have to worry about and now I get to go for my second day of humiliation but this time it's with the big wig in the company. Oh and we are doing what I hate more than anything, a lunch interview. How does that work? You shove your face full of food and then someone starts grilling you with questions on how you can help their company. I never get the lunch meeting and frankly, I could live the rest of my life never going to another one. I'm more of the type that likes to get the business out of the way and go to lunch with friends. I now know why. I was at my lunch interview and the man begins being rude to the wait staff and they of course think that I actually know the man that I'm with. He goes on to tell me what I should order...he suggests that I order a salad. He even mentions that the place is pricey and that he would never have taken me there or anyone else that he works with because the food is too high in price but the atmosphere is nice and it's a good place to come because nobody else at the job can afford to eat there. He wouldn't have to worry about them seeing us interviewing. I thought, "Hmmm, this is really nice. Not only am I being told what to order but the guy is really a tight ass". He smiles and suggests a salad (cheapest thing on the menu) once again. I nod my head and smile and then he says, " You could order the Risotto if you have nothing else to do but go home and nap all day". At that point my husband said I should have ordered it and told him that I didn't have a job so I might as well order Risotto. I on the other hand needed the job so I said, "I will have the salmon salad, please".

Lunch went horrible and I quickly tried to close my bag after lunch as he asked me another gut wrenching question, "Can you travel for weeks at a time without your family minding?" Ahhh, I thought about his question and since I don't really want to be traveling tons I yelled out, "Ohhhh, sure, I use to travel tons with my last company and it was never an issue". The guilt set in and I just wanted to get out of there and home. On the way back to the office...we walked to the restaurant and most likely so he could save on gas money. He whispered to me that he hoped I wasn't looking for much money and that the job would entail long hours and hard work. I thought about how much all of that sounded too familiar. The stay at home mom thing was sounding better every minute.

I got back to my car and turned on the radio and sang to myself the rest of the ride home. All I wanted was a cold beer and funny enough...a little Risotto.

Tuesday, July 25, 2006

More than one Accident

People talk about how much kids change your life or that it's not your life anymore once you bring a child into the world. The one thing that nobody seems to mention is the amount of excitement and spontaneity that it brings, which brings me to my next subject... Accidents! It's one thing when you or your husband fall and get hurt but it's a totally different thing when it happens to you child. The first thing that you do is look at each other to decide who to blame. This time was different and there was nobody to blame because the darn thing was just a freak accident.

Our son was playing in the house and running with his stick horse yelling, "giddy up, giddy up horsie". My husband and I were both sick in the 112 degree weather and laying on opposite couches in the family room. Our son ran by and tripped on the stick of the horse and fell right into the fireplace ledge. His forehead hit the middle of the wood just right and we heard a big thump! My husband picked him up and held him as he cried with his hands over the spot where he hit. When he pulled his hands off I heard my husband make a "Urgh!" noise. He pointed the head at me where all the blood was dripping down his little face. It looked like someone hit him with an ax. The poor little guy was really hurt and we did what every good parent does...we panicked. My husband ran him to the sink and I grabbed a towel and told him to put it over the wound to stop the bleeding. He added pressure so we could see how deep the cut actually was and stitches were in order. My husband ran to the car and I ran in and out of the house four times looking for shoes, a wallet, car keys, etc. It's funny how fast you can actually find things when your child is in need. I jumped into the drivers seat and we were off and running. My husband just held him in his arms and my son wasn't crying but asking if he was going to get num num's after the hospital. It was like a drunk asking for a beer.

We got to the hospital and I realized that since we were potty training that day, we didn't have any diapers on him. He was in his underwear and was most likely going to pee all over the hospital. The doctor was in the front when we arrived and didn't even bat an eye at the blood runnng down our sons face. He kept watching the tennis match on TV and we sat in the waiting room just letting the blood cover the shirts of my son and husband. Waiting, waiting, waiting! At that moment as a parent you want to yell, "EXCUSE ME BUT DOES ANYONE CARE THAT MY SON'S HEAD IS SPLIT OPEN AND HIS BRAINS MIGHT BE FALLING OUT ON YOUR EMERGENCY ROOM FLOOR". I guess not because we were called in about 5 minutes later and sent to a room...calmly.

A male nurse came in the room to take my son's vital signs and my son asked me, "What is that lady doing?" Now I'm sure that male nurses have an issue with being called ladies and my son didn't purposely do this as he calls everyone a lady...even the Harley man at the gas station. It really is embarrassing to say the least to have to say in front of them, "No honey, that isn't a lady it's a man...see his mustache"? The man just smiled and my son asked me to rock a bye baby him (which in his terms means to hold him and rock him back and forth). We waited and finally the doctor came in after my son's head was shaved by the male nurse and his vital signs taken. We were all barking like dogs because of our colds so I'm sure they wanted to get us out quickly. I asked my son if he had to use the restroom (to avoid the accident waiting to happen) but he said no and then opted to try it because the bathroom looked cool. He didn't go!

The doctor asked me to hold him and his arms down while he stitched it up. I was shaking but my son was fine and not even a tear. He watched the needle go in and out and waited for the doctor to finish. It was all done in about 50 minutes and we were headed out when we heard the ambulance pull up with an elderly lady inside. The doctors rushed around and the male nurse asked what the case coming in was and the reply went like this, "uhhh, it's an extreme case of constipation." They didn't even bat an eyelash...I was like, "WHAT"? The doctors all sat there with a toddler who was bleeding out the head and the lady who can't take a shit is rushed in by ambulance...something is seriously wrong with our healthcare system.

We went home and no potty accident and no crying...it was perfect. Then about a half hour after being home my husband comes in to get me off of the phone with my parents. It seems that my son decided not to use his potty even after we got home to the convenience of his own potty. He hid in the corner and went in his new underwear. These aren't potty training undies but the thin kind that most of us wear. My husband giggled and went into the house as I carried my son into the backyard and ripped off his soiled pants. Yes, it was a blow out in the shorts with an ending of a solid turd. I looked at my husband who watched from the inside and asked if I should throw the soiled pants away. He smiles and says, "No, just rinse them out". I don't know why I listened but I did and I was hosing kids, dogs, undies and shorts for what seemed hours. My son laughed and ran through the yard naked and wet. My husband had stopped watching and went on with his day and there I stood cleaning up all of the shit once again!

Thursday, July 13, 2006

There is an "I" in discipline

Okay I finally had to hide the pooper scooper. It seemed like a good idea at the time but now I'm really thinking that a heavy shovel or something less shiny and attractive to the eye would have been much better. Then again a shovel would hurt the dogs much worse then getting hit on the head with a pooper scooper. My son is infatuated by the pooper scooper. When I look outside, he has it in hand and is heading right for the dog poop run or one of the dogs. It wouldn't be such a big thing except for the fact that he doesn't know how to use it and if he using it on one of the dogs...it could kill them. I'm tired of dealing with the aftermath of the poop covered hands, unhappy dogs and dog shit shoes. I chucked it across the garage and I'm not even sure where it is now but I do know that all day long he asks, "Where is it mom?" "Where is it?"

Is your child as stubborn and relentless as mine? He doesn't take no for an answer and certainly doesn't stop asking. "Mom, mom, mom, mom, MOMMYYYYYYYYYYYYY". This is what he does all day long and sometimes just to spite him, I won't answer. I know it sounds mean but I can't take it and I just don't answer. He doesn't have anything to say and I think that he just likes to call my name to see if I will answer. Yesterday I picked him up from school as usual and he didn't want to go. Do you know how embarrassing it is when you show up at the end of the day and your kid starts crying and throwing a tantrum because he has to go home? The teachers are looking at you like, "Shit, she must beat his ass." My son is screaming so loud and kicking me and rolling on his back like a dog. I look up and smile at the kids and teachers watching this scene from afar. "Come on honey, we have to go home and see PaPa". My son replies with this, "NO, I HATE IT AND I DON'T WANT TO GO". "GO AWAY MAMA". This is when my blood starts to boil and the thoughts about why did I decide to have kids go through my head. I have to remind myself that I'm in a school yard with children and I do Yoga breaths. Again, in a calm voice I ask, "Honey, we have to go home now but we will come back tomorrow and play". My son replies, "NO" and he takes off running. A teacher will ask if I want them to chase him for me. Okay so here is when a mom has to decide what to do. I decide to pick him up and drag him out kicking and screaming to the car. He weighs no less than 37 pds and feels like a 100 when he's kicking and punching you. That's it, I tell myself...he is going to bed when he gets home. I have had it!

Later in the car on the way home from school, my son call out, "Mommy, mommy, mommy, mom, mom, mom, MOM, MOMMMMMMY". As you can see I was giving him the silent treatment. We drive into the driveway and he looks at me and says, "Sorry mom, please no bed". I forget all about what just happened at school and tell him, "Okay, just don't do it again". Am I crazy? Insane? Nanny 911 would be ashamed. Did I not remember what just happened at the school yard? My mother would tell me that I'm going to raise a serial killer and you know what...maybe I will. There are just some days where discipline is harder than working an 8 hour job. I wonder if anyone called about a job today? I will take the bird job at this point. Hmmm? Please don't tell my husband about this. He says I'm horrible when it comes to discipline. I guess there are some things that he can claim that he's better at and that just might be one.

Tuesday, July 11, 2006

Little Helper

It was quiet in the backyard so I went out to check where my son was hiding. He had maybe been out riding his bike for two to three minutes in the backyard and now he was nowhere in sight. I called his name and he yelled, "Over here mommy in the poop". That is where the trouble began.

My son stood in our dog run or should I say, poop run. I had purchased the day before a pooper scooper to pick up the dog run so the dogs would stop eating their poop. If nothing is there then it's harder to get, right? Well, my son thought that he would help me out by going out to pick up the fresh poop himself. He had the scooper in hand but instead of scooping it with the shovel into the scooper, he was picking it up with his hand and placing it on the scooper. I wanted to cry and especially because I had no shoes on and knew that I would have to run inside for a minute to get my shoes on before attempting to step into the dog run. I screamed for him to come here and he yelled back, "No Mommy, I need to get the poop". He picked up another one and put it on the scooper and wiped his hands on his shirt. He then yelled out to me, "Mommy, I have poopie on my shoes". I screamed, "COME HERE". He just kept on picking up the poop. I made a run for the house and grabbed my thongs. I ran to the yard picked him up and he managed to smear his freshly covered poopie shoes all over my leg. I screamed again! This can't be happening...everyday it seems like I'm dealing with poop. We ran inside, threw off the shoes and ran for the bathtub. The entire time my son is touching me with his poop covered hands and I'm gagging from the smell.

Another day in paradise as my son and I soak away the poop in a fresh bubble bath. My husband walks in from work about that time and asks the famous question, "How was your guys day?" If he only knew!

#2

Today we had a break through (kind of) with a #2 of the potty. It didn't exactly happen on it's own but I did see some grunting in the corner and ask the question, "Honey, do you have to poo poo?" I got the usual response, "NO". I quickly scooped him up and off to the potty we ran. We pulled down the undies and on to the potty seat. It was like a miracle happened! I heard the sound of little poops hitting the toilet. You wouldn't think this was such a big deal but for a mom it's a milestone. I might as well have been the one making the poop for him...I was proud! Gleaming with joy I started to scream, "YOU DID IT, YOU DID IT". He smiled and said, "Mom, Let me show you my poop". We both stood there and looked at it for a minute until I realized what we were doing and that another one might be coming behind it. I put him back on the potty and he pushed again and said, "Lets look at it again, Mommy". What do you do? Look at it...That's what you do. He stood up and we looked again and he gave me the high 5 (after we washed his hands) and it was over. The party started all over again. We went into the other room and there he stood waiting for the big POOP TREAT that I had promised. Shit, I didn't really have a poop treat. What do I do now? I thought quickly and remembered that I had a cupcake in the fridge. Now that is a BIG treat! I opened it up and there he was so proud with chocolate cupcake all over his face. He licked the last of the frosting and handed me the cake part to throw away...what a party!

A Potty Party

Last week as I was leaving swim class I overheard one of the mom's saying that she was going to have a potty party at her house over the weekend. Hmmm, is that what they call it these days...a party! I have to say that potty training at my house has been nothing like a party at all. I decided it was time to take a new approach. We would attempt the training again this weekend and we would too have a "POTTY PARTY".

The party got off to a rocky start with my son not wanting to be invited. We pulled out the big boy panties OR as my husband keeps reminding me, the underwear! It's hard to break old habits, I now know that it's important to not call your son's underwear "panties". That was just the first mistake I made. Next we pulled on the big boy undies and quickly heard the screams of, "I want my diapers back". Hmmm, not going so hot again. I quickly pulled out the card that I knew would get his attention, "Honey, you get num num's if you potty on the toilet". This did catch his attention but for the next hour all I heard was, "I WANT num num." He didn't want to use the potty but he did want the candy.

I attempted to set him up in the downstairs bathroom. I wish that someone was as nice to me. He had the convenience of a stepping stool, cushioned seat that fit his butt and fresh wipes in case we had #2. He sat down and checked it out and we waited in anticipation but NOTHING! Okay so we will try this party again later. The next time we did get some pee action and a smile came over him. He yelled out, "NUM NUM" before we were even off the toilet. As I was getting him down and helping him pull up his undies...he fell off the stool. I reached out to grab him and he slid to the side so I grabbed his side and pinched one of his balls (on accident of course). He screamed as he landed and hit his head. Ohhh NO! What had I done? He was looking at me like I just pushed him off a bridge. I smiled and tried not to panic and he told me that his pee pee hurt. Now my husband has always giving me the ball lecture and the pain it entails. I'm not sure if a two year old has any pain but I did feel extremely bad about it.

My husband came down and was ready for the potty party. I gave him the quick training and we were off. I went upstairs to get ready for the day and that is when I heard the screaming downstairs. I yelled down to see what happened and the party was over. My son was crying and my husband had a bottle of Miracle cleaner and a towel. Apparently he tried to take my son to the bathroom and he told him that he didn't have to go so he believed him and the accident happened moments later.

We put the big boy undies away for a while and I went to the store for the safer version of "training pants".

Friday, July 07, 2006

Kids and Poop

What is it with kids and poop? It's like you experience poop in an entirely new way once you have children. They take you on a poop journey and it's not exactly one that you would have scheduled for yourself. My son is now at the ripe old age of two and thinks it's really funny to talk about poop and especially funny to fart out loud! I can't say that my husband also doesn't find this hilarious as well. Maybe it's a man thing?

Early in the day my son came into the house to tell me that his chest hurt. I asked him what happened outside to cause the pain. He just cried and told me it hurt. I asked him if he swallowed something outside and he thought for a minute and told me that he did. I screamed, "What did you eat?" He looked up at me and said, "Dog poop". I rinsed out his mouth and smelled his breath and it all seemed fine so we went on with our day.

What I'm about to tell you now could scare women everywhere into decided against having children. My son is in the early stages of potty training and still doesn't want to take the plunge into big boy pants and pooping in a real potty. He would much rather poop on the ground than jump up on a toilet and wait for the poop to come out and that is just what he did yesterday afternoon. I came outside seconds after changing him inside the house and he had ripped off his diapers and bent down to poop. When he had trouble getting it out he decided to do the butt scoot across the cement like a dog. I have to say that our two labs (who regularly eat poo) enjoyed the sentiment and waited for my son to finish. I on the other hand let out a blood curling scream and swept him up off the ground...bare butt and all! We ran up to jump in the bath and the next day we went back to wearing diapers. I might get the nerve up to try again next week. Please pray for us!

Last Day of Swim Class

Ahhhh! It was the last day of swim class today but only to find out from the other mom's that a new session would be starting the following week. I was invited by the "in" mom's to attend the class. Hmmm, should I attempt it again and try to "fit in" or give up before something really embarrassing happens...oh too late!

My son was standing in the shower area as we walked in to get our towels and change our clothes. I got smart and decided to change him outside so we had less time in the women's locker room and that means less time for disaster to strike. I was wrong because even that short split second that we were in the locker room, my son found a way to add excitement to the day. He turned and ran back out to the pool area just as I took off my bathing suit and started to change. I didn't really have a choice since it was a matter of life and death with a pool involved. I ran out after him...naked! It was lucky that the cement was hot and he didn't get very far or I would have shown all of my small town my birthday suit. My husband still doesn't believe me! A mom has got to do what a mom has to do to protect her child and that's even if it means public humiliation for the rest of their life. It's the vow you take when entering motherhood. Oh and he did ask me on the way back in the locker room if I saw that woman's butt in front of us. Just another day at swim lessons. I guess I will take the weekend to decide if we can show our face there again next week for round 2 of swim lessons.

Thursday, July 06, 2006

Poopy Butt

Today was the second to the last day of swim lessons...Thank God! I don't know if I can take much more. Today we were in the locker room changing to go home and my son noticed the old woman across the room changing into her clothes. I looked over to see what he was staring at and started to panic. The old woman was completely naked and bending over to get her underwear on when my son yelled out, "Look Mama, that lady has a poopy butt". Okay I wasn't about to look over to see the expression on the woman's face but silence took over the room as he repeated himself and this time adding in an "EEEEEEWWWWWWHHHHHHH, that woman has a poopy butt". Those words echoed through the women's locker room as I started to panic and "shhh" my son. He began again as I tried to cover his mouth, "Ewwh, mommy look at that poopy butt over there". I quickly grabbed our bags and scooped up my son as I thought about the next day and how I would return to that gym after what just happened. Tomorrow I would wear a hat to workout and pray that nobody recognizes me...only one more swim class to go.