Tuesday, May 10, 2011

Hereditary Grace

So, today Silas and I came in the house after taking a walk and there were stinking annoying ants crawling all over the floor by the door, ugh.  Well, I grabbed the ant spray and doused the little jerks with the plan in mind that I would go back and wipe up the spray and carcasses up.  As always, I got caught up in other nonsense and forgot. 

We went to the living room to cool off but of course Silas can't sit still for a millisecond and took off toward the kitchen, then toward the stairs so I took off after him.  He panicked and ran towards the door and as soon as his feet hit the chemical-soaked flooring he flew backwards on his head.  I then panicked when he started screaming and ran toward him and hit the wet patch and landed hard with my leg bent behind me.  The earthquake caused by my hitting the floor threw the baby deeper into his fit.  I then did what any good mother does at this point, I started crying right along with him.

 I, after a few seconds, stood up and carried the baby to the bathroom and ran a bath.  We both climbed in to scrub off the ant-killing toxins, we were both still crying.  I stopped by the time we were clean and he pulled himself together after a bottle and a nap.  I'm still unsure of when it's okay and when it's not okay to let a baby nap after a blow to the head but he always nap better after a head injury and I hate to ruin that.

 I am still sore, like really sore and the baby has taken multiple spills since then and seems unfazed.  I realize that  am old and also fat and both of these make taking a fall harder.  Next time, I am saying live and let live to the indoor anthills.

Monday, May 9, 2011

Double-edged Sword

Mother's Day is a little funny to explain to non-mothers.  If you saw last week's episode of The Middle, Frankie summed it up perfectly.  She is thrilled that for Mother's Day her family is going to leave her home alone to relax.  Well, she ends up doing all of the mundane daily things that moms do, like sorting the junk drawer, testing the batteries, and fixing the toilet.  Well, her family comes home regaling her with stories of their amazing day eating special treats, playing games, and riding a Ferris wheel.  She is of course disappointed and they unsuccessfully try to recreate the day.  By the end she tells them that she wants them to just sit there and get along and she relaxes.  I say all of that to say that, based on my surveys, most moms feel the same way.  You want this special day but you also have stuff to get done and you want to relax but the threat of your child experiencing some special moment and you miss out  so you can watch reruns on TV is always looming. 

It's very hard to choose what you really want.  A friend of mine told her husband that she wanted to only be in charge of playing on Mother's Day.  He could change diapers and take care of cutting up the hot dogs for lunch and she would just play with her son.  I had a good mixture going on my Mother's Day.  Silas and daddy made 18 slices of french toast for breakfast then while the binks napped, I cleaned up the kitchen a little and made laundry detergent.

  When he woke up I took him to wal-mart so he could buy me the planting materials for my own herb garden as part of my gift.  We went to my moms and played and ate and then we went to eat with his other grandma.  The best part of my day (as it is most days) was right before bedtime when all of the work is caught up and we just play and goof off.  My boys also gifted me with an adorable little step-stone that had my babies footprints imprinted in it.  It was a good and balanced day for this mommy.

My brudders

Cousins close in age

Happy family

The Cousins


Sleeping Sweetie

Spider-baby

We had a lot of fun playing spider-man...thanks $1 yard sale jammies


Oh, and I was obsessed with recreating a picture from Mother's Day last year and without the cooperation of the baby, this was the closest that I could get.  I kinda love it.



Revo-Shoe-Tion

My kid is walking, running even, starting to say words, eating big boy food, so I know it's time.  He should be wearing shoes.  I am so sick of being told by strangers to "Buy that baby some shoes" and "Oh, his feet must be cold!"  Thanks a lot person I don't know, I have bought him 6 pairs and he won't wear any of him.  I realize that he "just has to get used to them" but I refuse to endure screaming that has an obvious source.  Not just because he is my sweet boy and I don't want him to cry, but because my nerves simply can't tolerate another meltdown mixed in my day, unless that meltdown happens to be made of chocolate, cheese, or butter.






 A fellow mommy and I have started spouting a phrase that has proven to be helpful in easing my mind on such subjects, he won't be 15 and...fill in the blank.  I know that Silas won't be 15 and walking around with bare feet so all is good.  So, leave me alone random stranger and if the occasion ever arises that he does in fact "step on a piece of glass" (because we like to play in skeezy allies and unswept factories) then I may reconsider my stance on this issue.