Life with children is so colorful. The toys they play with, the movies they watch, the pictures they paint for you, the funny things they say, the joy in their faces, what they wear, what they eat, the substances that leave there bodies. Oh, wait. Huh?
It's been a colorful week. Albeit challenging. (Wait, it's always challenging. Nevermind. Old news.) Yesterday it was the things they say. Today, it was the things they... wore.
Lets start with yesterday. B-Boy was killin' me with the things he said. He's pushing the envelope a LOT, lately. And not making it easy to discipline him, either. Gotta watch that one like a hawk sometimes.
Conversation 1:
Him: Mom, You don't tell me what to do. **starts to exit stage left QUICKLY**
Me: (after the initial shock, laughing) Haha, yes I DO! That's my job. (still laughing)
Him: (stops)(smirks)(looks sheepish, head hung but cocked)(also looks surprised he's not the recipient of a can of whoop ass)
Conversation 2:
Him: Mom, I want to keep this moth.
Me: You can't. He'll die. Go put him outside before he dies.
Him: But mom, I'm allergic to bugs.
Me: lmao (wha huh?)(Where do they come up with this stuff??)
Apparently I was able to find humor in those two scenarios. Oh, if only that lasted.
Today was "town" day. Meaning, we had to go to a town large enough to have a grocery store. When Lil'D woke from his nap, I set him to eat so we could bust out the door right after he finished. Everyone was dressed appropriately, and was clean the last time I saw them.
Enter KJ. Now on her second dress of the day (grumble, grumble), she walks in with what I thought were more cherry juice stains on her dress (great deal for 4lbs of Bing cherries for $6.88 at Sam's!). I'm irritated, out of stain removers of any kind, and trying to line things up to get out the door, not deal with more ~disturbances~. I send her to her room to change clothes. Her punishment, er I mean discipline, is that she is not allowed to wear a dress. Shorts and a tshirt only! (I'm a meany, I know!)
Less than 5 minutes later, enter Cheeks. Wearing her last pair of clean shorts. Soaked to the bone.
Great! More laundry.
Now... for the real winner in this display of a million ways to p.o. your mother, enter B-Boy. He is not wearing a shirt (hey, thanks for not soiling that extra piece of clothing for me!). Only, he's purple. Head to toe. On his shorts. Arms, legs, face, head. I lose it. I start screaming. Arg. Sigh.
So apparently, 5 of our darling neighbor children decided it would be fun to have a berry fight, only B-Boy was the only recipient of the berry bash. I'm not even sure what kind of berries they are, (Mulberry? Are those poisonous?) nor exactly where they are, though he knows he's not to go there or eat them. I send him to the bath immediately. That's when I saw his backside. They had taken these mystery berries and smashed and smeared them all over his back to the point of no skin going untouched. You could even see the smear marks, that's how bad it was. Who did this, I ask. He names names, in no particular family order.
Temper flaring, they will PAY, I mutter. Ok, not really. I'm not that vengeful. But I did go tattle. Cuz holy moly that was a lot of purple, and I was MAD!
As I'm washing mud/berries/chocolate (chocolate chip snatchers, you!) off many assorted children, some Bible verse pops into my head about anger. I was thinking something more "proverbial" about a wise man being slow to anger or something. Maybe I'm making that up. I couldn't find one. Anyway, I'm thinking I need to post, in a very large font, some quote about anger.
"A fool gives full vent to his anger, but a wise man keeps himself under control." Proverbs 29:11
It occurs to me that if I had been "slow to anger" I would have had the clarity of mind to think, "take a picture." Alas, I did not. It would have been funny. Later. After the fact, this is a very, not-illustrative pic of the purple that is on B-Boy's shorts. Not impressive. I think it soaked in and faded. Or maybe my mind was dramatizing it all. No, no, it's that the camera didn't capture it well. Seriously, this is MILD compared to what was on his body, and that I'm NOT dramatizing because I had to scrub it off myself.
It's been a colorful week. Albeit challenging. (Wait, it's always challenging. Nevermind. Old news.) Yesterday it was the things they say. Today, it was the things they... wore.
Lets start with yesterday. B-Boy was killin' me with the things he said. He's pushing the envelope a LOT, lately. And not making it easy to discipline him, either. Gotta watch that one like a hawk sometimes.
Conversation 1:
Him: Mom, You don't tell me what to do. **starts to exit stage left QUICKLY**
Me: (after the initial shock, laughing) Haha, yes I DO! That's my job. (still laughing)
Him: (stops)(smirks)(looks sheepish, head hung but cocked)(also looks surprised he's not the recipient of a can of whoop ass)
Conversation 2:
Him: Mom, I want to keep this moth.
Me: You can't. He'll die. Go put him outside before he dies.
Him: But mom, I'm allergic to bugs.
Me: lmao (wha huh?)(Where do they come up with this stuff??)
Apparently I was able to find humor in those two scenarios. Oh, if only that lasted.
Today was "town" day. Meaning, we had to go to a town large enough to have a grocery store. When Lil'D woke from his nap, I set him to eat so we could bust out the door right after he finished. Everyone was dressed appropriately, and was clean the last time I saw them.
Enter KJ. Now on her second dress of the day (grumble, grumble), she walks in with what I thought were more cherry juice stains on her dress (great deal for 4lbs of Bing cherries for $6.88 at Sam's!). I'm irritated, out of stain removers of any kind, and trying to line things up to get out the door, not deal with more ~disturbances~. I send her to her room to change clothes. Her punishment, er I mean discipline, is that she is not allowed to wear a dress. Shorts and a tshirt only! (I'm a meany, I know!)
Less than 5 minutes later, enter Cheeks. Wearing her last pair of clean shorts. Soaked to the bone.
Great! More laundry.
Now... for the real winner in this display of a million ways to p.o. your mother, enter B-Boy. He is not wearing a shirt (hey, thanks for not soiling that extra piece of clothing for me!). Only, he's purple. Head to toe. On his shorts. Arms, legs, face, head. I lose it. I start screaming. Arg. Sigh.
So apparently, 5 of our darling neighbor children decided it would be fun to have a berry fight, only B-Boy was the only recipient of the berry bash. I'm not even sure what kind of berries they are, (Mulberry? Are those poisonous?) nor exactly where they are, though he knows he's not to go there or eat them. I send him to the bath immediately. That's when I saw his backside. They had taken these mystery berries and smashed and smeared them all over his back to the point of no skin going untouched. You could even see the smear marks, that's how bad it was. Who did this, I ask. He names names, in no particular family order.
Temper flaring, they will PAY, I mutter. Ok, not really. I'm not that vengeful. But I did go tattle. Cuz holy moly that was a lot of purple, and I was MAD!
As I'm washing mud/berries/chocolate (chocolate chip snatchers, you!) off many assorted children, some Bible verse pops into my head about anger. I was thinking something more "proverbial" about a wise man being slow to anger or something. Maybe I'm making that up. I couldn't find one. Anyway, I'm thinking I need to post, in a very large font, some quote about anger.
"A fool gives full vent to his anger, but a wise man keeps himself under control." Proverbs 29:11
It occurs to me that if I had been "slow to anger" I would have had the clarity of mind to think, "take a picture." Alas, I did not. It would have been funny. Later. After the fact, this is a very, not-illustrative pic of the purple that is on B-Boy's shorts. Not impressive. I think it soaked in and faded. Or maybe my mind was dramatizing it all. No, no, it's that the camera didn't capture it well. Seriously, this is MILD compared to what was on his body, and that I'm NOT dramatizing because I had to scrub it off myself.
We left. Finally. Driving along on my normally favorite and windy, wooded, hilly road in "town", enroute to buy stain remover, from the seat behind me I hear a familiar, yet discomforting sound. Any guesses? Why yes, it's barfing. As I look back, I see the most intense color of red pouring forth from Cheeks. (haha. That was funny. Anyone catch that?) Surprisingly I did not freak out and crash my car but I did have to keep looking back there to double check that it was not blood. Nope, just cherries and red koolaid. On a white tshirt of coarse.
(And did I mention she is potty training and was wearing a skirt so her underwear became a kind of basket. *shivers*)(DON'T VISUALIZE. Just. Don't. Visualize.)
Fortunately we were just down the road from my parent's house, but my once favorite road was now too slow and taking too long to get there, with no way to pass the
Kid bathed, clothes hosed down, car seat dismantled and hosed down, car wiped as good as possible for the time being.
Be happy I didn't take pics of that one. Yuck-o.
Sorry, dad. There's some extra, um, fertilizer on your lawn.
Now, can I take my kid to Wally World with only a diaper and shoes on? It's hot. But she's also not an infant. Thank heavens for garage sales.
After all that, it was time for an ice cream. Or wait, sorry. A frozen custard. Vanilla, please.
For a trip that was to take 1 1/2 hrs, it took 4, just to buy milk, lettuce, and Shout/OxyClean/rubbing alcohol (yes, all 3 - my stain removers of choice).
I think I need a beer.
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