Archive for the ‘monsters’ Category

I feel like I lost one of my own tonight. One of my tribe laid down his arms and said “Enough.”

Enough of the hiding. Hiding your pain. Hiding your face. Hiding your scars and your wounds. Hiding from the beasts and demons you carry with you. Hiding from reality and hiding from fantasy.

Enough.

Enough of the lying. Lying to them, to you, to us, to all. Lying in wait for the next wave to come.

Enough.

It’s such a simple word, it’s easily understood with nothing more than a simple gesture.

But, it’s impact is great.

Some say “Enough” and stand up. Some say “Enough” and lie down.

Either way, nothing is ever the same.

 

The National Suicide Prevention Hotline is: 800-273-8255

For phone-phobics

bandbacktogether.com/resources

 

 

 

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There are some things in this world that, as a mom, is unavoidable. No matter how much you want to you just can’t get around-

  • whining
  • waiting at the doctors
  • paperwork
  • puke
  • poop

That last one has been very popular around here lately.

It all started last month when Amanda had The Bug. You know the one I’m talking about. Puking, sharting, exhaustion, seemingly endless diarrhea, refusal to eat, all followed up with a nice case of acid reflux.  We call it Icky Belly.

I threw out 4 pairs of underwear last month.  It was that bad.

Now yesterday, I put Perry in her crib for a nap. She protested until she fell asleep. Or so I thought.

I kept smelling poop and since Kieran has recently potty trained himself, I thought he had an accident. That poor boy endured my interrogation for a full 5 minutes.

He’ll make a very patient man someday.

Then I heard Perry.

As I approached the bedroom, the smell became stronger.  When I opened the door I was greeted by a butt neked, grinning she-devil. And poop.

Pooplets to be exact.  Perry had smashed what must have been a dry, little poopie and rubbed it all over her mattress and pushed what was left behind her crib.

Lovely.

Later on, we had a visit from Naana. As usual Kieran hid out with his toys. I thought he was improving because he was actually being quiet about it rather than screaming.

He’ll also grow up to be Anthropophobic .

I have to say that I am not the one who made the discovery. To did when he checked on Kieran.  I found out because Tom is not calm when it comes to body function related emergencys.

To save my own sanity, I stepped in.

I was on the poop hunt again. I had to pick up and inspect every toy in the room. That, of course, was  every toy we owned.  I ended up following a pooplet trail from one side of the room to the other.

At least it was easy to clean up.

Tonight was another story.

Amanda, bless her skinny little heart, refuses to get out of bed by herself.  There is not a good enough reason in this world for her to get up with out permission. She tried once and saw a monster in Mommy and Daddy’s room and never tried again. I also never left my bedroom door open during grown up time again.

Tonight that bit us both in the tush.

Amanda called for me and I couldn’t here her. I’ll blame selective hearing. By the time I responded, it happened. Shit, that is.

This was no pooplet.  It was shit all over the inside of her jammies and down her leg.  It didn’t help that Amanda was having a dancing, whining tizzy while I”m trying to clean her up.

Ugh. I hope this is the last poop event for a while.

And just for the record, we are now down 5 pairs of panties and a pair of pink footie pajamas.

I witness one of Amandas newest habits this morning. She took a swig of milk and spit it back into her cup. EW EW EW EW!

I informed her that that was not okay and not to do it again. I didn’t think about it after that. It skeeved me so I moved on.

I have a very nice coffee cup with a lid to help keep it warm when I forget about it. I forget where I put my cup all the time.

I had one of those moments today when I had to randomly abandon my cup to parent. I came back to it an hour later and took a mouthful and felt a floater.

Not much grosses me out like a piece of something floating in my drink and subsequently in my mouth.

Like many moms out there I spit my coffee into my own hand. I was hoping to not get any on my newish carpet. I seriously underestimated the capacity of my mouth. I ended up with coffee down my shirt, on my shorts and all over the carpet.

Luckily the carpet is the exact color of my coffee. Good call landlord man.

The offending item was left in my hand. My mind went straight back to Amanda na dher new trick. I hunted her down in her room. With a big grin she copped to spitting in my coffee.

*urp*

I wanted to laugh. I did laugh while I sent her to time out, actually.  Discipline with a smile isn’t really discipline. She immediately began to shake her tutu’d booty to the music from Sesame Street. I laughed harder.

I couldn’t keep her in time out. Discipline fail.

I’ll just have to keep a better eye on my coffee cup.

I was all ready to drag myself to bed. I was even so bold as to think about getting a shower. I had it all planned out in my head, right down to check the front door 3-4 times.

I was foiled again.

Amanda has once again woken up to see Tom’s car gone. I’m not sure what runs through her head but it seems a lot like a mix of heartbreak and panic to me. At least 4 times a week I amforced to go through the same schpeil about how “Daddy goes to work after you go to bed and he will be home in the morning to eat breakfast with. Now try to sleep, the sooner you sleep the sooner Daddy will be home.” Then I have to go through the whole “scarey monsters”,” there’s only good and funny monsters and list every monster on Sesame Street I can think of” set of hoops.

I have to do this a couple times each night it happens

Tonight I got smart(ish). I got Amanda a picture of her and Tom and a toy cell phone and told her to look at the picture and call Daddy on her phone to say I love you.

So far only a couple of whimpers and no more outright wailing. I’m still not feeling real hopeful.

Sometimes a girl just needs her Daddy.