The big joke is that husbands say stupid things all the time. TV shows love to exaggerate it. Wives like to compare notes and commiserate. It's not all of their faults. Well, I am sure part of it is some long turn brain damage from crazy stunts they pulled as kids but, I suspect the rest of the problem stems from us asking impossible questions with impossible answers. Their brains start to over heat, trying to solve the riddle, and it melts and slowly oozes out of their ears, creating the perfect fertilizer for ear hair.
What impossible questions you ask? Let's talk about a typical Sunday morning. I've rummaged through my clothes, wishing that I had found time to go shopping. I'm also wishing the I was one of those moms who bounced back right away, had a high metabolism, or any athletic ability. But we do not hate or envy, especially on Sunday. I put something on and turn to Stephen.......
"Do I look ok? Are you sure? I don't know. Does it look tighter? I feel gross. Are you telling me the truth? Would you tell me if I didn't look ok? What? Why do you look mad? Ugh, look at my hair. Does this look ok? Did you look? I don't think you looked!"
One Sunday, I had some sort of moment of clarity in the PMS haze and realized he had no way to answer. What did I expect? I wanted to hear that I looked good, but I won't believe it. His answer will be questioned no less than six times. I wanted the truth, but not if it's the wrong answer. But the wrong answer is the one I think is right, that I look bad. I'd be mad at him if I went out looking awful, but what could he say that won't have me crying and/or killing him? That's quite a puzzle! I'm surprised I didn't see steam from his over heated brain.
Another moment that probably involved lots of over heating and brain melting, had to do with Easter candy. I told Stephen that I absolutely did not want any Easter candy. I had been eating too many sweets and bathing suit season was not that far away. I also went on and on about how I did not like the peanut butter eggs he got. I'm pretty sure that I have mentioned that I am not of fan of them for the last 7 Easter's, just in case he forgot. So it would make sense for him to question why I ate some. ( I was in such a rush when I stole them because I didn't want the kids to see me eating chocolate at 8:30am. I didn't close the lid right. Totally Busted!!) He asked "Why did you eat my candy? You told me not to get you any because you said you are gonna start eating healthy to lose weight." That's totally what I told him and yet I totally wanted to hurt him, thank goodness I had too many little witnesses around! He looked so confused as I was giving him the death glare. I'll admit, it really didn't make sense, but nobody better tell me I can't have chocolate when I decide I deserved it.
I wish I could wrap this up with some way to overcome this and offer up advice. A little something about body image and a dash of communication skills. Let's be honest, I am still gonna ask if I look okay, tell him don't let me eat something and then practically break his finger off to grab another chip or candy. He will never understand the logical reasons why he is wrong. Try not to kill them and occasionally let the stupid comments slide!
Sunday, June 29, 2014
Sunday, June 8, 2014
OH POOP!
Everyone one warns you about the lack of sleep and lack of money, but they fail to mention one thing! Suddenly, a big chunk of your life becomes all about someone else's POOP! And just when you think you can handle the poop situation, it reaches a whole new level of gross!!
Day 1 starts with this crazy practically irremovable tar substance that pretty much just adds insult to injury. You already feel totally inept and it's got you still struggling 3 wipes and a pee sprinkle later. Then you need to record each dirty diaper on that nifty chart they give you. If you're a first timer, you continue with your own chart and dutifully track each poo for weeks. You celebrate when the tar is gone, then it starts changing colors and you're freaking out. The first time you dress them up and go out, Blow outs happen! In the beginning you try all sorts of techniques to remove clothing without further contamination. Gradually it wears you out until you say screw it and you take the scissors to the onsie your dying great aunt hand sewed. You just can't take shampooing poop out of hair again. You're so over asking all the mommy chats "how do you get poop stains out." Next is solid foods. All sorts of ungodly and unspeakable things start coming from your precious little one. You spend hours airing out the house and tracking them down as they flee in terror from the dreaded diaper change. You think it can't get worse but it does! It really, really does! This next phase inspired this post.
THEY LEARN HOW TO TAKE THEIR DIAPERS OFF!!! I think you are not officially a parent until you have to scrub poop from under a toddler's finger nails!! In the past week we have had two incidents.........
Tractor time:
While I shower the kids usually play/fight in Sydney's room. This day (that will live in infamy) was kinda quiet. I should have known. After I showered, I started their bath. I noticed that my informant (Sydney) was actually downstairs. I called Nathan and he walked to me. His diaper was MIA and little poop flakes were falling off his hands. He bumped into the door with his poop smeared leg. I wiped him down and threw him in the tub. I looked for the diaper and scream. It was open and next to his tractor on Syd's table. He used his poop for mud! There was poop all smashed in the tire treads. Must have been "muddin" because it was "splashed" on the rest of it too. Real creative kid, but you're going on the mat for F.O.R.E.V.E.R
"Ah No Nap, Mommy" :
After too many crib escapes, we had to switch to the big boy bed. We started making sure his door was super shut so he can't escape naps. A lot of times, he talks and sings and calls for me. I usually let it go for an hour and if he still isn't asleep, I get him. He was really talking away and yelling "Mommy" a lot, so I went to check on him. I opened the door and saw him half naked. No big surprise! I saw a wet spot on the carpet, so annoying! I stepped into the room...... Wait a minute! Why is my toe warm????..... No, it can't....... Please no....... I just....seriously.....NOOOOOOOOO!!!! I looked to see lots of smudges of poop. While the little guy was free balling it, he must of pooped on the go. There are spots all over the floor. His book and a little spot on the wall also fell victim to this poop and run situation. UNBELIEVABLE!! (Note to self: add carpet cleaner to shopping list. the NEW bottle is almost done)
Please tell me it gets better!!! Tell me that after the always imperfectly timed "Mom, I'm done! Wipe me" shout, it's over!!! I can't handle anything else!!
Day 1 starts with this crazy practically irremovable tar substance that pretty much just adds insult to injury. You already feel totally inept and it's got you still struggling 3 wipes and a pee sprinkle later. Then you need to record each dirty diaper on that nifty chart they give you. If you're a first timer, you continue with your own chart and dutifully track each poo for weeks. You celebrate when the tar is gone, then it starts changing colors and you're freaking out. The first time you dress them up and go out, Blow outs happen! In the beginning you try all sorts of techniques to remove clothing without further contamination. Gradually it wears you out until you say screw it and you take the scissors to the onsie your dying great aunt hand sewed. You just can't take shampooing poop out of hair again. You're so over asking all the mommy chats "how do you get poop stains out." Next is solid foods. All sorts of ungodly and unspeakable things start coming from your precious little one. You spend hours airing out the house and tracking them down as they flee in terror from the dreaded diaper change. You think it can't get worse but it does! It really, really does! This next phase inspired this post.
THEY LEARN HOW TO TAKE THEIR DIAPERS OFF!!! I think you are not officially a parent until you have to scrub poop from under a toddler's finger nails!! In the past week we have had two incidents.........
Tractor time:
While I shower the kids usually play/fight in Sydney's room. This day (that will live in infamy) was kinda quiet. I should have known. After I showered, I started their bath. I noticed that my informant (Sydney) was actually downstairs. I called Nathan and he walked to me. His diaper was MIA and little poop flakes were falling off his hands. He bumped into the door with his poop smeared leg. I wiped him down and threw him in the tub. I looked for the diaper and scream. It was open and next to his tractor on Syd's table. He used his poop for mud! There was poop all smashed in the tire treads. Must have been "muddin" because it was "splashed" on the rest of it too. Real creative kid, but you're going on the mat for F.O.R.E.V.E.R
"Ah No Nap, Mommy" :
After too many crib escapes, we had to switch to the big boy bed. We started making sure his door was super shut so he can't escape naps. A lot of times, he talks and sings and calls for me. I usually let it go for an hour and if he still isn't asleep, I get him. He was really talking away and yelling "Mommy" a lot, so I went to check on him. I opened the door and saw him half naked. No big surprise! I saw a wet spot on the carpet, so annoying! I stepped into the room...... Wait a minute! Why is my toe warm????..... No, it can't....... Please no....... I just....seriously.....NOOOOOOOOO!!!! I looked to see lots of smudges of poop. While the little guy was free balling it, he must of pooped on the go. There are spots all over the floor. His book and a little spot on the wall also fell victim to this poop and run situation. UNBELIEVABLE!! (Note to self: add carpet cleaner to shopping list. the NEW bottle is almost done)
Please tell me it gets better!!! Tell me that after the always imperfectly timed "Mom, I'm done! Wipe me" shout, it's over!!! I can't handle anything else!!
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