Wishing you had an outlet that would help make your crazy life seem a tad bit normal? Wondering if anyone else's kids enjoy shouting farm animal noises at complete strangers in the grocery store? Looking for a place to vent your frustration at your toddler's propensity for eating squished grapes off of the grocery store floor (when you aren't looking, of course...)? Look no further! "Not Me!" Monday was written just for you! (Well, and for me, because really, I just need to get this stuff out!) This is where I admit my imperfections and the parts of my week that I really wish never happened! It's a little like free therapy - enjoy!
After a week staying at Kyler's parents' house (the extra help was spectacular!) we returned last Wednesday to life at home, and began this "new normal" together as a family of five. Surprisingly, we escaped relatively unscathed after my first two solo days as a mother of three kids ages 3-1/4, 2, and 2 weeks. Not surprisingly, all but a few of the following "Not Me!" Monday entries came from just those two days.
First off, I need to set something straight. Cameron has most definitely not just recently become completely entomophobic. Just before leaving my in-laws house, the boys and I were enjoying some playtime outside. It most definitely was not Cameron, the previously fearless child, who found himself (his cheek, actually) the landing pad for a very small cricket, and instantaneously developed a morbid fear of all things buggish (bug-ish? bug-like? Anyway...) This paranoia most certainly is not accompanied by painful-looking facial contortions, small limbs clambering onto his mother (whether or not she happens to be wearing his baby brother in a sling and isn't prepared to "catch" him...) and girlish screams in octaves that very well may break glass. And since this incident, it has not been mandatory that every bug spied by his pale blue eyes either be eradicated or removed from his immediate vicinity in order for life to continue on in peace. Sigh...
Just in case you were wondering, it is not me who has found myself resorting to VeggieTales, Word World, and Curious George (repeatedly, in that order) to distract my two toddlers long enough that I can nurse the baby in peace and without disaster. Not me. We have discussed my personal policy on using DVDs to babysit my children. Doesn't happen. Ever.
Kayden is 100% potty trained. For this reason, I am confident that it must have been little gnomes who sneaked into our house earlier this week and left a giant puddle of urine in the doorway of the downstairs bathroom and snaking, like a small river, out into our entryway. Actually, that's considerably more disgusting. But still, I know it must not have been Kayden who left this accident.
It most assuredly was not me who walked into the entryway to check on Kayden (who was supposed to be using the toilet, you know, in the toilet), while carrying the baby and paying no attention to my feet, who stepped directly into the previously mentioned puddle. I definitely wasn't barefooted.
And I certainly didn't completely lose it for about three seconds when I realized what I was standing in.
We have a cheap couch. It has big, incredibly comfy pillows. But, said pillows have no slipcovers. They're basically glorified pillow cases. A zipper and tons of fluffy white stuff. White stuff that I did not find all over the couch and living room floor when Kayden discovered this little zipper and "distributed" the fluff. And the reason that I was completely oblivious to this "free the fluff" party is not because I thought I had distracted the boys with puzzles long enough to check my e-mail three feet away. Clearly, I was not in need of a break badly enough that I remained in my little happy place and didn't even hear the little song Kayden made up and was singing while flinging the fluff everywhere. Nope. Didn't happen.
Similarly, I did not have pizza and soda for dinner one night and then whine pitifully when my nursing baby was up all night long with a belly ache. Not me!
Friday, we headed down to the pediatrician's office. Well-checks for Cam (2 yrs.) and Callan (2 weeks). We were at least 20 minutes late for our 11am appt. Not because we didn't get the boys to bed until 11pm, were up all night with Callan, and didn't roll out of bed until nearly 9:45am, when the doc's office is an hour's drive away. It was traffic, definitely the terrible traffic...
At the ped's office, the doctor did not tell Kyler and I that our sweet babe is gaining too much weight. You heard me. My little three-week-old is a fatty. (Except he's not. Let's just not talk about it.) Ugh.
This morning, I noticed that the big boys have started slapping each other on the rear end while playing games like catch. I am choosing to believe this has nothing to do with the nearly six hours of football we watched at Kyler's parents' house yesterday afternoon while the boys were playing nearby. For the record, I will never understand why boys do this...
And...(disclaimer/warning to those of you who can't read about birth stories or nursing babies...)
Callan wouldn't nurse much this morning. Despite being ridiculously uncomfortable, it certainly wasn't me who decided it was a good idea to just plop right down on the couch and pump, sans cover-up, while attempting to distract the boys with VeggieTales. It definitely didn't take less than a minute for them to notice. And they were not completely amazed. Or terrified. Probably both.
Regardless, no dancing cucumber was going to tear their eyes away from the medieval-torture-device hooked up to their mother. Ah well, now that they're sufficiently traumatized, it ought to make for some pretty hilarious future "Not Me!" stories. You know, when they start pointing and talking about Mommy's milk to some random teenage boy bagging our groceries at the store. I feel sorry for him already...
I'd love to hear about all of the things you didn't do this week! Scroll down and click on the comment link to leave a note. "Not Me!" Monday is an incredibly fun, blogging carnival started by MckMama on her blog. Basically, it's where we all can be brutally honest about our imperfections and admit parts of our week that we'd rather not have happened.