Picture this. It's Friday night. It has been a very long week. All day, at work, you have been thinking, I can not wait to crawl into bed tonight (pretty much every Friday night for me.....party...animal). You finally get the kids settled into your oldest's room, for a movie, get yourself ready for bed and crawl under the blankets. You turn Dateline on and let your exhausted mind and body drift into a relaxed bliss. Then......the outline of a silhouette at your door. Had you been asleep? You didn't hear their approach. At first, you freeze. Your eyes try to focus. Then you realize, that this being in the door frame, stands at about 3 feet. They have one hand in the air, holding what appears to be a very small object.
"Look what I stepped on," they say. It is now that you realize that you do indeed recognize this tiny being, by their voice. It is your three year old. Although, all you can see is their outline and you definitely can not discern this tiny object that they speak of.
"Mommy, look what I stepped on!" You realize the fake sleeping act is not working. Crap. You sit up, rubbing your eyes.
"What is it, baby? I can't see it." The little child makes their way into the room and over to your side of the bed. Their beautiful between baby and little boy features becoming more into focus, as they get closer. Your heart immediately feels like it will explode, in only the way your child can make it.
"I don't know. I was just walking and I stepped on it," he says. If you hadn't have been half asleep, you may have thought to ask why he was walking around. But, instead, in your end of the week stupor, you hold out your hand.
"Let me see." He hovers his little dimpled hand over yours and drops the mystery item into the palm of your hand. It is light and about the size of a small pebble. The light in the room is dim, so you hold it up closer, to get a better look at it. Then you see that it is brown...ish. You think it must be an old crumb, or a piece of chocolate, or something. But that uncontrollable Mom basic instinct sets in, and, without a second thought, you smell it.
"Is this poop?" You slowly start to sit up and get out of your bed, careful not to move the tiny terd around too much. You are literally holding poop in your hand. Is there more? What the F is happening?
"I don't know," he says, "I was just walking and I stepped on it." You head toward the bathroom, with your miniature night stroller, and drop the offensive pebble in the toilet. Then, hand washing...or scrubbing. You realize that your little has a pull-up full of these, so you get rid of that next. Then, time to search the parameter. One escaped, so their most definitely could be more. Your Dateline episode comes to an end, while you are on your hands and knees on your son's bedroom floor, looking for poop pebbles.
This was my wild and crazy Friday night. Being haunted by a 3 foot, night wanderer, who seems to be confused, and leaves surprise nuggets in his wake. You know you've been there, or somewhere very, very reminiscent....
The next morning, we ventured out to run some errands. I told the boys, if they were good, that I would let them pick any treat they wanted. Yes, bribes are my go to. I mean, I didn't write that on my youngest's kindergarten application, under what forms of discipline work for you. But let's be real, bribes are life.
So, my little men were absolute angels until we got to the grocery store, which was our last stop. As we neared the chip aisle, I started to get excited. Chips are life, too. I lead them to the aisle and raise my arms, with my back to the rows and rows of deliciousness. Then I say, a little louder than I had anticipated, "Pick whatever you want!". Their eyes widened and they fanned out in opposite directions.
I felt like the best Mom ever.....until I made eye contact with another Mom, who had her little in the cart, snacking on an apple. She watched as my oldest brought me my favorite type of chips, he is always thoughtful like that, and as my youngest ran to the economy size. I couldn't tell if she was just surprised or actually judging, but I suddenly became extremely defensive of the chip aisle....oh, and also, my decision to use them as an incentive for good behavior. But, my kids earned that treat and I was proud of them. I have always thought, you need to do what works, day by day, for your family. And eat chips....maybe not day by day, but some days, every couple of days, every second day, you know, whatever works.
The rest of the weekend was great. The boys enjoyed their chosen snacks and watched their inaugural viewing of Harry Potter. I attempted my first batch of homemade ravioli. They turned out ugly AF, but they tasted pretty decent. I put a picture of these basic bitches, below. So....
Does Mommy need to lose her shit?
Not this week.
"Look what I stepped on," they say. It is now that you realize that you do indeed recognize this tiny being, by their voice. It is your three year old. Although, all you can see is their outline and you definitely can not discern this tiny object that they speak of.
"Mommy, look what I stepped on!" You realize the fake sleeping act is not working. Crap. You sit up, rubbing your eyes.
"What is it, baby? I can't see it." The little child makes their way into the room and over to your side of the bed. Their beautiful between baby and little boy features becoming more into focus, as they get closer. Your heart immediately feels like it will explode, in only the way your child can make it.
"I don't know. I was just walking and I stepped on it," he says. If you hadn't have been half asleep, you may have thought to ask why he was walking around. But, instead, in your end of the week stupor, you hold out your hand.
"Let me see." He hovers his little dimpled hand over yours and drops the mystery item into the palm of your hand. It is light and about the size of a small pebble. The light in the room is dim, so you hold it up closer, to get a better look at it. Then you see that it is brown...ish. You think it must be an old crumb, or a piece of chocolate, or something. But that uncontrollable Mom basic instinct sets in, and, without a second thought, you smell it.
"Is this poop?" You slowly start to sit up and get out of your bed, careful not to move the tiny terd around too much. You are literally holding poop in your hand. Is there more? What the F is happening?
"I don't know," he says, "I was just walking and I stepped on it." You head toward the bathroom, with your miniature night stroller, and drop the offensive pebble in the toilet. Then, hand washing...or scrubbing. You realize that your little has a pull-up full of these, so you get rid of that next. Then, time to search the parameter. One escaped, so their most definitely could be more. Your Dateline episode comes to an end, while you are on your hands and knees on your son's bedroom floor, looking for poop pebbles.
This was my wild and crazy Friday night. Being haunted by a 3 foot, night wanderer, who seems to be confused, and leaves surprise nuggets in his wake. You know you've been there, or somewhere very, very reminiscent....
The next morning, we ventured out to run some errands. I told the boys, if they were good, that I would let them pick any treat they wanted. Yes, bribes are my go to. I mean, I didn't write that on my youngest's kindergarten application, under what forms of discipline work for you. But let's be real, bribes are life.
So, my little men were absolute angels until we got to the grocery store, which was our last stop. As we neared the chip aisle, I started to get excited. Chips are life, too. I lead them to the aisle and raise my arms, with my back to the rows and rows of deliciousness. Then I say, a little louder than I had anticipated, "Pick whatever you want!". Their eyes widened and they fanned out in opposite directions.
I felt like the best Mom ever.....until I made eye contact with another Mom, who had her little in the cart, snacking on an apple. She watched as my oldest brought me my favorite type of chips, he is always thoughtful like that, and as my youngest ran to the economy size. I couldn't tell if she was just surprised or actually judging, but I suddenly became extremely defensive of the chip aisle....oh, and also, my decision to use them as an incentive for good behavior. But, my kids earned that treat and I was proud of them. I have always thought, you need to do what works, day by day, for your family. And eat chips....maybe not day by day, but some days, every couple of days, every second day, you know, whatever works.
The rest of the weekend was great. The boys enjoyed their chosen snacks and watched their inaugural viewing of Harry Potter. I attempted my first batch of homemade ravioli. They turned out ugly AF, but they tasted pretty decent. I put a picture of these basic bitches, below. So....
Does Mommy need to lose her shit?
Not this week.
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