Things One and Two

Ok so this doesn't count as a real post, I realize, but I'm in the middle of cooking dinner so you get what you get and you don't throw a fit.

Things that my kids said in the last 24 hours:

"My Indian name is Goldfish." (Sayde)

"Cool! I just found gum in my neck." (Connor)

Caution: Don't read this post while eating.

The following conversation took place at the dinner table over chicken sandwiches last night:

Sayde: "Mom, when the doctor made the cut to take Ella out, did it go all the way around your back?"

Me: "No baby, it was just a small cut on my tummy, remember?"

Connor: "Yeah, I came out of your cut too. Right, Mom? Because I needed help to get out"

Me: "That's right."

Connor, continuing: "Yeah, because I was a big giant baby. But not Sayde, she was a little tiny baby. She climbed out all by herself. She was little. Like a poop. Mom, did you poop Sayde out?"

Sayde, crying: "CONNOR! I'm not a poop. Mom, did you poop me?"

Me: cleaning up my dinner plate and walking away.
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PS The hook was a birthday present to Connor, obviously.

Almost (but not quite)

A mousetrap.

Sitting up.

Excited.

Gentle.

Sorry.

Remember that time I almost killed you?

So this week, Ella taught herself how to suck her thumb and OH MY GOD. Why didn't she figure this out as a fetus? What a difference it has made now that she has a way to calm herself down. She is an all-natural child who hates pacifiers and is enraged by bottles, so the discovery of her thumb fits in perfectly with her organic preferences. This, combined with the little bit of baby food she is eating now, and retirement is on the horizon for my poor tired boobs. They're so excited, they're already heading South for winter.

Anyway, in the car on the way home from Aunt La La's house last night, Ella did not appreciate being in her carseat. And, by unappreciative, I mean she was red faced, toes pointed, fists out, eyes clenched, SCREAMING. Rolling down the windows and driving at high speeds did nothing, and for some reason she could not find her thumb. This prompted back seat Mommy Sayde to shout "SUCK IT, ELLA, SUCK IT! SUCK IT, ELLA, SUCK IT!"

On a totally unrelated topic, I've been "shushed". Yesterday, for the first time ever, we had a photographer come to the house to take a family picture. And while we were discussing what options we might want, Lennie said we were not interested in Christmas cards. As I began to interject that yes, we are interested in Christmas cards, he gave me the old shusharoo gesture with his hands...twice. Fuck. Now I have to go to prision for murder.

Today if you asked Lenie why I have matching zits on each side of my forehead, he'd say they are Devil Horns.

In other news, it is my birthday today.

Time for Some New Tricks

The last few days, Sayde has been complaining about various ailments: my arm is broken, my tummy hurts, my forehead hurts, my ear, floods, plagues, locusts. I think secretly, she is pissed that Connor had a birthday party and got a lot of attention, and her birthday isn't for another month.
So, last night after she sat up in bed *SCREAMING* that her tummy hurt, again, I went up. Without saying a word I got into bed right behind her, put her little head on my lap and stroked her hair. She immediately quieted down, and closed her eyes. (I remember an evening in my childhood where my Grandma sat by my bed and stroked my hair, I kept dreading the moment she would inevitably stop, but she never did. I must have fallen asleep first.) So we stayed that way for a long long time until finally I eased myself out of her bed, kissed her forehead, and quietly slipped out of her room, and right into Ella's to give her one last nighttime meal before going to bed myself.

Not even one minute later, she burst out of the room *SCREAMING* that her ear hurt. This time Lennie went up and I could hear him giving the Calm-Down Spiel that works oh so well with both Sayde and I. "Take a deep breath! You're being ridiculous! Sayde, this is not how we behave! Calm down!" Shockingly, the screaming continued.

As soon as I was done feeding Ella, I went to the medicine cabinet, got the Children's Tylenol and found Sayde sitting up in bed, alone. At that same moment that she was sipping her Tylenol, Lennie walked in with a little cup of Children's Motrin. Except, his cup was filled with water. He was trying to trick an almost 6 year old into believing that a cup of water was cherry-flavored Motrin. We locked eyes, and for a moment, it was extremely hard not to burst into laughter.

When we left Sayde's room, all I could do was poke him in the ribs and say, "Really?"

As it turned out, neither the Tylenol nor the faux Motrin worked because shortly after this, Sayde climbed into bed with us. But I just had to laugh at the Stupid Parent Tricks that Daddy resorted to last night.

Lo Siento, Mama y Papa

There is a great car wash not too far from my house. You know the kind where they not only send the car through the autowash, but on the other side, a bunch of guys armed with towels, Windex and vacuums are waiting to buff the cars back into shiny newness (or in the case of my minivan, a lesser degree of disgustingness).

Well since my parents were coming into town this past weekend, and I knew I had to pick them up from the airport, I figured I'd make the poop-mobile as bearable as possible and take it to the car wash. Words cannot describe the putrid horror of the backseat of the minivan. A few weeks ago, I bought this little nylon garbage bag for Sayde because I was tired of cleaning all the apple cores and gum wrappers out of the cup holder. I thought it had been working out pretty well; she neatly deposits all her junk into a plastic baggie inside this larger nylon bag and no more soft brown apples for me to touch. Yes, I thought it had been working out well until I reached my hand into the black abyss of the nylon bag and it plunged into a pool of slimy foul-smelling goo which I can only assume used to be an apple. At this same moment, I was also engulfed in an alarmingly large swarm of fruit flies. Did you ever see that scene in "The Mummy" where he opens his mouth really wide and all the bees come flying out? Yeah, that was like the little nylon bag, except with fruit flies, and except it didn't turn me into a zombie chanting "Imhotep". It only turned me into a more nauseous and twitchy version of myself, although I do have an unexplained craving for BRAAAIIINNNNSSSS.

After I ran away from the fly swarm, washed the goop off my fingers, and chucked the nylon bag as far across the backyard as I could, I continued to clean out the minivan. Did you know there was a poopy diaper that was hiding underneath the passenger seat? I didn't. But it explains why I go through air fresheners so fast. Also in the trunk, after I removed the stroller and some canvas bags, I discovered that there were several large greenish ovals about the size of a small turd. I knew they couldn't be poop because:
A. God wouldn't do that to me twice, right?
B. They were too symmetrical
C. They kind of looked like multivitamins that had swollen up with water and started to crumble and decay on the floor of the trunk.
So I scooped them out, and because something is wrong with me, I smelled them. Yup, multivitamins.

I also cleaned out all the newspapers, school art, crayons, toys, hats, juice boxes, wrappers, folding chairs, sweatshirts, coffee cups, receipts, barrettes, water bottles, socks, and books that had been riding around North Carolina with us for weeks. And only then, after I considered it fit for human occupancy, did I dare take my minivan to the car wash and allow my shame to be exposed to strangers with towels.

I watched the guys go to work on the minivan, doors flung open, vacuum humming, a cloud of Windex. Then, they opened the trunk. And started talking to each other in Spanish, and pointing, and laughing. And I wanted to run over and say "Es vitaminas, no es poopies!", but I thought they would probably laugh even more at that, and also assume that I was not only the driver of a turdy minivan but also a little loco. So when they signaled that my car was ready I just gave a polite "Thank you", popped Ella in, and peeled out.

To Mom and Dad, who had to sit in the back of the minivan after it had been through the car wash: The 2nd level of Hell doesn't seem so bad when compared to the 9th, does it? Just ask Sayde, she's been sitting back there for years.

Happy Birthday, Connor!

Dear Connor,

Today was your 4th birthday. When I look at you tonight with your chocolate cupcake smeared all over your cute smiling face, I wish Superman would fly around the world fast enough to pause this moment for a while.

When you were a baby, I used to tuck you into your crib with your softest blankie, kiss your face, and sing to you. I loved this so much because you really seemed to appreciate it. You would look up at me with your little baby face and smile a huge toothless grin, and then promptly fall asleep before the sleepy smile had time to fade. Many nights, I stayed a little while longer after you'd fallen asleep just stare at your beautiful baby self.

These days, when it's late at night, I tiptoe over to your bed to give you one last kiss goodnight. Often you will somehow know that I am there without ever opening your eyes. You fling your arms outward and catch me in a hug. And I stay a little while longer after you've fallen back asleep just to try and make sure I'll always remember how it feels to be hugged by your little boy arms.

You are such a comedian. We thought about putting you in Tae Kwon Do a year early, because after watching Sayde for so long, you are tired of waiting. The instructor said that as long as you weren't a goofball, you could start. When I told Aunt Col about this idea, she pointed out to me that your entire personality is a goofball. Oh yeah, that's right. Maybe next year for Tae Kwon Do for you, kiddo.

Sometimes, when you say things like this, I have to remind myself that you did not travel to Earth from some distant planet; touching down from outer space ready to do battle with the Decepticons, while slinging your Spidey webs, sailing your pirate ship, and fighting various T-Rexes crocodiles and sharks with your swords and giant Hulk muscles.

When we moved to this new house and discovered that two little boys just your age lived a couple of houses away, we were thrilled. After 3 years of hanging out with an older sister, you had become accustomed to tea parties and had taken to carrying your matchbox cars around in a pink butterfly purse. When the boys were wrestling and you joined in, you kept looking over at me. I knew you were waiting for me to say, "Settle down, too rough." When that never came, a light came on in your eyes. Somewhere inside your brain, something clicked and the MONSTER TRUCK lurking within was awakened. While I still occasionally witness you tenderly tucking your cars in, and kissing them goodnight, mostly you are King of All Wild Things. Also, everyday I have to wipe the dried pee off the wallpaper in the bathroom. Thank you for teaching me humility.

It may not be obvious to everyone, but you are sensitive. I have learned the hard way not to yell at you. It nearly broke my heart the time I had to put you in naughty room while you were wearing your Spiderman costume. With the Spidey mask on, the only part of your face I could see was two tear filled eyes. All I wanted to do was scoop you into my lap and squeeze you tight. But then you'd learn that the consequence for pushing your sister is a hug from Mommy, so off to naughty room you went (but you were let out early for playing the pity card so well).

Keep on saving the world from bad guys, little dude. I'll keep on kissing you goodnight.

Love always,

Mommy