Monday, May 30, 2011
So, I got nothing. We are doing stuff and, hopefully, I will be back in the writing saddle to tell you tales of daring do and awkward antics. For now, here are some pictures of Super Baby looking at himself in a mirror because, frankly, it is about as cute as 1000 kittens sliding down rainbows. Enjoy!
Awkward Mom will rally and entertain you soon with tales of pools, parks, and potty training. Summer is here and Preschool is coming all too soon. It is gonna be a summer of P around here, folks. Sadly, quite literally.
Monday, May 23, 2011
Once upon a time there was a princess. And I don't know. Um. She lived in a castle. Are you playing Hearts? (Um...no.) OK. I like Hearts. When they float. (When they float? Oh, you mean when I win and they float up the screen?) Yes, do that. (Well, I can't right now.) OK. (Ummm..where were we?) Castle. She lived in a big castle. Oh, I got an idea. An idea. For the computer. E. E. E. (E?) I wanna sit on your lap. I want to. I wanna get on your lap. (OK.) What does this computer does? (Do.) Do? (What does it do, not does.) What are you doing? Are you doing it? (Never mind.) Are you writing another one? More letters. Web starts with B. (Web starts with W.) W. Like Will. Let's spell Will! W. I. L. L. I need to look at the letters. We need more letters. (I think we have plenty of letters.) Are you writing letters? I wanna type some letters. The blue button makes the computer turn off. I wanna type some letters. (Umm..ok.) I wanna help you. g
/'wwwiiiii where's the L? (points to L.)lllllllqqqqqqsssssssawaaaaaaazsssssssssss2212345678999999999999999990 Where's the 10? (I try to explain the finer details of double digits.) 1010101010 Why are you typing while I am typing? Don't push the M, Mom. Don't push the M!! That one and that one. 1 and 2. 113 (Super !Baby 11joins us around here.)1qwertuyyuiopaas365+6eravehqp8y HKEO5A34NEwjqnc kh9 r (We lose the screen for a minute or two.) zdlsgmkdjhrh5h65g5bhd3x 865283f (Someone opens itunes.) j;ltgevrhs ekrhy8757343689
(WHAT...HOLD ON...ok...wait...) jdfgdhr4sg5dsf6gsdgh2
d5h6df5g6.5f6g (Super Baby loses interest and goes to play with a phone that is on the floor.) 101010122233345566778899.....Mom? (Yes?) Mom? (Yes?) Mom? (What do you need?) A diaper. (oh, OK.) Bye computer! 11111
Guess we will have to conclude (and actually start) our princess story later. See ya!
Saturday, May 14, 2011
Welcome Super Fetus!
So, as you can see from this blurry, out of focus scan that I made of our ultrasound picture, we are expecting super child number 3! For the moment, we are calling this one Super Fetus. I know, I know, it isn't the greatest name. But, you see, he/she (oh, get used to that, we aren't finding out the gender until he/she arrives and I am not referring to he/she as an it.) will eventually graduate to Super Baby, as the current Super Baby is gonna walk any day now. As he has been reassuring us for several months now. But really, it should happen by the time Super Fetus arrives. I hope...
And if it doesn't, Super Toddler will be in preschool by then and going by the mantle Super Pre-schooler, so Super Baby will move to Super Toddler and Super Fetus will move to Super Baby. Get it? We are looking at the name changes as a sorta Robin to Nightwing thing.....oh what, too nerdy? Ummm....like how there are new Dr. Whos all the time? No, wait, that doesn't apply...OK, you know how there was one Green Lantern and then he went all crazy or oh! Oh! How about like how Batman wasn't Batman for awhile or those 4 Superman clones? No? Ummm....look, just Wikipedia the Robin/Nightwing one....it's the closest to what I mean anyway.
So, what was I talking about? Oh yes, Super Toddler going to Pre-school. Wait, what?! Oh no, I am not ready for that! Let alone ready for that post. Nor is he, if the complete failure of potty training around here has anything to say about it. What was I really talking about? Ah, yes. Super Fetus!
So, Super Fetus has been with us for 3 months now, and he/she has been causing quite the stir. Demonstrating super powers well beyond his/her years. Vomit inducing, exhaustion causing, body morphing powers. So far, these powers only seem to be effective on me, but I have high hopes for Super Fetus' potential as a Superhero. Super Fetus is already proving to be unique. At Super Toddler's first ultrasound, he was kicked back, taking a snooze. He looked like he was in a little hammock, complete with arms over his head. Super Baby's first ultrasound was almost identical (most likely because it was taken during the day; Super Baby's nocturnal ways were apparent from his conception), and he too was all hammocked out. Super Fetus had his/her back to us at first. Then, this little whirling dervish took off and spun around a couple times, only to land again, with his/her back to us. Needless to say, you gotta make your mark early as a third child and I don't think Super Fetus is gonna have trouble with that at all.
Look forward to more Super Fetus tales here! In addition, there have been a dearth of warm days here and it appears that summer may be just around the corner. You all know what that means.....pool stories! Park stories! And, most likely a return to that unholy combination of both: the spray park. Oh, the awkward potential; don't miss it. Catch it here on the Adventures of Awkward Mom!
Tuesday, May 10, 2011
Here is your narrator for this tale:
Once upon a time there was a prince. A rather handsome prince, as you can see:
This prince went to visit Rapunzel. This is Rapunzel (note the long, beautiful hair):
Rapunzel was living in the forest with an ugly old witch. Here she is:
The prince told the witch to go away, but she didn't. So he found some knights to help him out. Here they are:
The knights and the prince and Rapunzel tried really hard, but the witch was really really strong. Finally, Rapunzel said, "hey, let's ask the wizard!" So, they asked the Wizard of Oz to help out. Here he is:
The Wizard of Oz poofed that mean old witch no problem. Then he flew away in a balloon. So, Rapunzel, the Prince, and all the Knights went to the park and played on the slide.
Thanks for the colorful story, Super Toddler!
No Super Brothers were harmed in the illustrating of this tale. Painted, perhaps....but not harmed!
Saturday, May 7, 2011
"A mother is a person who seeing there are only four pieces of pie for five people, promptly announces she never did care for pie." ~Tenneva Jordan
For all you moms out there, hope your Mother's Day is full of pie!
(Or any other sweet you might desire.)
Happy (non-awkward) Mother's Day!
Thursday, May 5, 2011
So, Awkward Dad and I rush over to Super Baby to find a waterfall of blood gushing from his mouth. All my panic bells start ringing, plus that tiny shameful one in the back that peels "ding-dong-all-your-chances-of-making-friends-in-this-class-are-dead." We have the full attention of the entire room, except for Super Toddler, who is playing with legos and not remotely concerned about his brother's well-fare. The attention has a smattering of genuine concern (the Awesome family), but is otherwise split between pity (i.e. "poor thing, so sad his parents weren't watching him better") and relief (i.e. "thank goodness that wasn't my child"). Awkward Dad scoops Super Baby up and attempts to look in his mouth. He is bitten for his trouble. (That vampire theory is starting to make more sense, eh?) I take Super Baby, set him on the sink counter, and attempt to wipe some of the blood off him, while the teacher gets a glass of water. I end up with most of the blood on me, which provides some entertaining looks later at lunch, but that is a different story. Right now, Super Baby is howling and crying, but the bleeding doesn't not seem as dramatic as it did. I am starting to think we should be more worried about Awkward Dad's new puncture wound. My thoughts are confirmed with Super Baby stops crying when offered the water and smiles with delight. You can almost hear him thinking; "What? Are you silly adults serious? You are gonna give me a full glass of "top-less" water just because I hurt my mouth? OK, whatever, Yippee, play time." Yes, he promptly "drinks" it, spilling 75% down his shirt and into his lap, where he proceeds to splash quite happily. This enables Awkward Dad to peek cautiously into Super Baby's mouth and discover that he has a small cut on the gums above his 2 front teeth. We have an intense debate about taking him to the dentist, but once Awkward Dad confirms that both teeth are firmly rooted in place and not loose (while getting bitten again for his trouble), we finally breathe and agree he should be fine.
I settle with Super Baby into the baby section of the room, and Awkward Dad leaves to rescue Awesome Dad, who is watching both toddlers. In a blink of an eye, the teacher is singing "Clean Up! Clean Up!" It appears our impromptu ER session with Super Baby lasted longer than we thought. I gather Super Baby up and head toward the circle for Circle Time, when I hear a rumpus near the legos. I stretch my ear in that direction and there is a brief moment of hope, but I soon realize that it is my oldest son making said rumpus, which soon accelerates to a full out screaming fit.
Now, I am rather hazy on what is happening, as I am not present, but Awkward Dad catches me up later. I shall attempt to second-hand recreate it for you. It appears that Super Toddler and Awesome Toddler are playing with legos. Another child comes over to play with legos. Super Toddler must view this child as a villain because he pushes said child and refuses to share any of the lego bounty with him. Awkward Dad pulls Super Toddler into a "time-out," just as the teacher announces "Clean Up! Put all the toys away." We are guessing Super Toddler assumed the toys were being put away in direct response to his refusal to share and, finding that excessive and unfair, decides to let his frustration show, at about 1000 decibels.
I turn to see Awkward Dad heading over to Circle Time with a screaming, flailing, contortionist Super Toddler. The rest of the class sees this too, as no one is looking at anything else, let alone the teacher, trying valiantly to make her announcements. Several children start to cry; guess their ears are bleeding and I am sure that hurts. Awkward Dad surveys the situation and decides on a retreat. He takes Super Toddler out of the room, which you would think is the best plan. Hmmm...apparently not. Super Toddler's abrupt absence from the room sets off Awesome Toddler, who lets out a scream nearly as piercing as the one that just left the room, somehow teleports across the room to the door, and begins beating on it. Now, 3 more children are crying, the teacher has given up, and I am trying not to meet Awesome Dad's eyes. So, I make an executive decision, set Super Baby on the circle line, and walk over to the door. I give Awesome Toddler a quick hug and open the door to reveal a whole other level of rumpus. Super Toddler is bawling and screaming "momma." When he sees me, it gets even worse and he reaches out for me, nearly toppling his father. It is super sad, but what nearly breaks my heart is Awkward Dad's face as he struggles to not let the temporary rejection of a 3-year-old hurt him and fails. I take Super Toddler in my arms and he immediately stops crying. I enter the room and Awesome Toddler stops crying. We enter the circle, the teacher starts singing, and everyone else stops crying. I look at Awkward Dad and he looks like he is about to start crying. I think I preferred the rumpus....
Oh readers, Awkward Dad recovered, never you worry! Later that night, when Awkward Mom was trying to make Super Toddler go to bed (at a perfectly reasonable time, we would like to point out), Super Toddler ran away from her, screaming "Daddy! Daddy!" When she found him clinging to Awkward Dad's leg, before she pulled him off, she had a moment to wonder if that was really a satisfied smile on Awkward Dad's face or merely a trick of the light. Must have been the light. Thanks for stopping by, see you next time on the Adventures of Awkward Mom!
Thought you would like to see how superheroes recover from catastrophic classes.
Wednesday, May 4, 2011
So, the class we are taking is essentially an hour and a half of self-lead play, a snack, and circle time with about 10 other kids. I am looking at it as a way to prepare Super Toddler for preschool and hang out with the Awesome family, who are also in the class. As of last Friday, we had been to all of one class. Super Toddler did great; played by himself and with Awesome Toddler. He waited 25 minutes to use the dress-up clothes, which, for him, showed great restraint. He ate his snack in a semi-polite manner and participated in circle time with the slightest prompting. Super Baby refused to be contained in the "younger siblings baby toys section" and mixed it up with the big kids with great aplomb. He even went down a huge slide solo. I was fairly successful at not clinging to Awesome Dad for company, but not terribly successful at talking to any other parents; decently so-so, but it was only the first class. We all have room to grow, except maybe Super Baby, who may be teaching the class in a few weeks.
Well, readers, I warned you. I told you that if I took a class with the Super Boys, it would just be a matter of time before things went spectacularly bad. Well, last Friday, they did. It began joyously enough; this past Friday an unprecedented feat occurred. Awkward Dad had the day off, (You all know how rare this is!) so he decided to join us for class. I had the highest hopes for this family bonding time and was swimming in expectations. Yea, we all know that is a grand idea.
We arrive and the kids tear off to drive pretend cars, feed pretend babies, and make pretend phone calls. (Why is so much play preparation for adulthood? Never mind, that is another post altogether.) Awesome Dad, Awkward Dad, and the other Dad present chit-chat in that natural, infuriating way that Dads have, while the Moms and I pretend we aren't eyeing each other nervously and secretly judging parenting approaches. The first half hour goes off without a hitch. Super Toddler finds the dress-ups a little earlier this time and is clad in fairy wings, an orange hat, and several necklaces. Super Baby wants to play/eat at the sand table, so I leave Awkward Dad in charge of that one. Awesome Toddler is feeding a baby with one hand and making a pizza with the other, while holding a dinosaur, purse, and a toy cup in her right arm pit. Way ahead of her time, that one.
The half hour mark passes and our descent into awkward begins. I am sitting at the play kitchen table, being fed pretend food by Awesome Toddler. Super Toddler is reading the "menu" to me and tempting my palate with promise of pepper pizza and pickled pumpkins. A passing mom happens to overhear and comments, "oh wow, he speaks so well! How old is he?"
(Can't I time-out here to tell you how much I already hate this impending conversation? I hate it because I have had it about 3594 times since Super Toddler opened him mouth and said "cookie" for the first time. You parents out there have also had it 3594 times since your children started nursing/grasping/laughing/blowing kisses/waving/talking/crawling/walking/writing/tumbling/eating whole grapes/counting/juggling/singing/dancing/sharing or refusing to do these things either at all or when What to Expect or Baby Center says they should. It will NOT go well because it never ever goes well when we compare our children on arbitrary milestones without knowing anything else about them. Let me be simpler, it NEVER goes well to compare children, full-stop. OK, off soap-box, back to awkward.)
So, I say, as I always say, "Yes, that Super Toddler, he is a chatterbox." I ignore the age question and hope it and she (I am so not nice today) goes away. She asks me again, "Yes, but how old is he?" I sigh, pretend to eat an entire head of play broccoli, and say "he is 3 years old." Her face registers the surprise I knew was coming and I can see the former "impressive talking" move to "poor tiny thing" in her eyes; "oh really? He is so small! My son here is also 3, but look at him, he is nearly twice as big!" I smile inanely, what else am I supposed to do? But this mom has more to say. "I mean, isn't she also 3?" She points to Awesome Toddler. "She's a full head taller than your son. She is big too." I continue to smile and hope I look polite and not insane. Awesome Toddler glances at this woman like she has just noticed her, laughs, turns to me, and scoffs at this woman's notions; "Nope, I am small. I am really small, Miss Erin." I could kiss Awesome Toddler right now, but instead I smile, for real, and say, "You're right! You are small! Super duper small and fabulous!" (Guess size really is all in how you feel about it.) Awesome Toddler and I start to giggle, chasing off Comparing Mom with our weirdness. Oh well.
So saved by Awesome Toddler, we move over to snack time, which goes remarkably well. Super Toddler eats a handful of goldfish, downs some water, and runs off to play with chalk. Super Baby is much more interestedin the food (big shock there) and has to be restrained from poaching goldfish off unsuspecting or distracted children. Nothing out of the ordinary, but trouble is brewing, readers. Immediately after snack time, Super Toddler goes off in search of more hats, and Super Baby finds a play shopping cart full of toy food in the middle of the room. I am, of course, talking to Awkward Dad and only mildly aware of this development. He grasps the handle and pulls himself into the standing position. He is thrilled with this progress and begins to push the cart toward me, toddling along. Awkward Dad and I turn to watch this unfold (as Super Baby is not walking yet, this is a big move on his part.), and thus, he has our full attention when he slides, crashes down, and is pelted with fake food. Now, despite this, it really doesn't look like a terrible fall. We rush over expecting him to be mad and upset about his tumble. We do not expect the Niagara Falls of blood that is gushing from his mouth.
Oh readers, we are gonna leave you hanging; so sorry! However, the Super Boys are restless today and we have bought as much writing time as we can with "WordWorld." Must dash, but join us later this week for the conclusion of Awkward Mom vs. Class. Massive drama awaits, folks. Circle Time level drama; oh don't miss this one, dear readers! Join us next time on the Adventures of Awkward Mom!
Sunday, May 1, 2011
Once upon a time there was a princess. Can I sit on your lap? Her name was Rapunzel, which is a good name. Hi. I wanna get up on your lap. (I acquiesce.) She got her hair cut. Rapunzel's hair was too long. Too long. And the princess hair is short. I like your wedding ring. It is pretty when you type. Can you finish up the story? What happened in the story? (I want you to tell me.) A bad witch came. My hair grows long. It is growing long, see? (Yes, I see. He is wearing a green towel on his head.) The bad witch poofed on her. The princess and the pea came and she went up up up in her bed, but she couldn't get up. She can't get up. She gets up on a ladder, if she likes. Her prince came. What does that spell? What are you typing? (I am typing what you are saying.) I know where these letters come from. They come from the computer. Are you writing something else? You are writing something else. Don't push the M! The M stops everything. (Really? I never heard that.) The M is sometimes a good witch, sometimes bad witch. The H is a prince, and the N is a princess. The W is a princess too. Where did this M came from? (I don't know.) It came from the computer. (What about the Rapunzel story?) It grows very very long. My hair grows but it doesn't glow. Maybe it glows at night. Can I watch Sesame Street videos on the computer? (Is your story finished?) Yes. (How do you finish it?) The End. Can I watch Sesame Street now? (Yep.)
Well, we are off to watch Sesame Street. Sweet Dreams!