Mornings Gone Awry
So, anyone out there feeling guilty about mornings with their children? Maybe you didn't get a chance to have your coffee,and you were unable to form a non-snarky response when your husband asked you what you were making for breakfast. Maybe you woke up with ambitious plans to make a healthy breakfast for everyone, get a load of laundry going, get dressed in something other than yesterday's yoga pants and a ratty t-shirt, and get everyone out the door in record time, only to discover that both your preschooler and toddler wet their respective beds? Or maybe you just reeeeeeallly wanted an extra 45 minutes to sleep, but the dog decided 5:30am was a fantastic time to start howling at the top of his lungs?
Don't worry. I'm here to make you feel better about yourselves.
For the past 8 days, my mom has stayed with us while Will was in the field for an extended period of time. This was exceptionally fortuitous, as I had my very first epidural injection in my back on Monday and I was more or less useless for the next two days. Nanas are awesome; they get up with the kids so you can sleep in, do laundry, mop the kitchen floor, and put the Thomas the Train puzzle together overandoverandover again with your 3-year old whilst you are confined to your bed. Unfortunately, my mom had to return to Wisconsin yesterday. So...this morning. Exhibit A:
Exhibit B: So, um, I should probably go to the grocery store at some point.
It doesn't help that I started writing this blog post a week ago, and I had a to take an 8-day break because I was distracted during the writing process. And by "distracted," I mean Alessandra straight up destroyed the $50 blinds in Tony's room.
Speaking of things being destroyed, Tony has an imaginary friend. His friend's name is "Histins." I have absolutely no idea where Tony came up with that name, but trust me, it's the least of my concerns. Now, I'm not concerned about the imaginary friend part. Pretty much every child psychologist in the world is quick to reassure worried parents that an imaginary friend is completely normal. The troublesome part is that Histins appears to be Tony's evil twin. For example, a few months ago I was irritated at Tony. His room was a disaster, and I told him we couldn't go to the park until he straightened it up a bit. He pouted, but got to work with putting the toys and books away. A few minutes later, I returned to his room, only to find a greater mess than before. I told Tony, once again, that a trip to the park was not in the cards until I could see a clear path on his bedroom floor. In exasperation, Tony said, "I did clean up my room, but Histins messed it up again!" Hmmm. Since that day...
Someone peed on the floor? Histins.
Milk knocked over? Histins.
A loud crash from a room other than the one I'm in at the moment? "Histins did it, Mama!"
*A disclaimer, if you will. Lest anyone believe that I'm a tyrannical parent who loses her mind over spilled milk, a potty accident or a cluttered room, rest assured I'm not. I don't freak out over typical preschooler antics; I'm more the eye rolling, okay-let's-try-this-again-and-get-this-show-on-the-road type of mom. So, I sincerely doubt that Histins was created out of some bizarre childhood trauma.
So, initially Histins was nothing more than a joke between Will and I. ("Will, did you seriously forget to take the trash out again?" "Of course I did! Histins took it away from the curb!"). That was, until the day Tony said this:
Me: *enters Tony's room, sighs audibly upon seeing dirty clothes tossed out of the hamper and thrown haphazardly around the room* "Tony, what have I told you about taking dirty clothes out of the hamper?"
Tony: "Histins did it, Mama!"
Me: *impatient now* "Yeah, yeah, well, tell Histins Mama has enough cleaning and laundry to do without him adding to my workload."
Tony: "He heard you, Mama. Histins is standing right next to you."
Me:
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I dare say, we may be in need of an exorcist around here.
Don't worry. I'm here to make you feel better about yourselves.
For the past 8 days, my mom has stayed with us while Will was in the field for an extended period of time. This was exceptionally fortuitous, as I had my very first epidural injection in my back on Monday and I was more or less useless for the next two days. Nanas are awesome; they get up with the kids so you can sleep in, do laundry, mop the kitchen floor, and put the Thomas the Train puzzle together overandoverandover again with your 3-year old whilst you are confined to your bed. Unfortunately, my mom had to return to Wisconsin yesterday. So...this morning. Exhibit A:
 |
| Alessandra "dismantling" Will's Monty Python's Flying Circus collection. Papa's gonna love this. |
Exhibit B: So, um, I should probably go to the grocery store at some point.
 |
| I'm sure there's a ton of recipes out there involving 1/2 can of pumpkin, fresh mushrooms, filtered water, 2 English muffins, Costco organic strawberry jam, crumbled feta cheese and butter! Don't sell yourself short! |
Never fear, though. This guy is on the job.
 |
| Toddler fashion: Will's hat, my sunglasses, Nana's flip flops. |
Speaking of things being destroyed, Tony has an imaginary friend. His friend's name is "Histins." I have absolutely no idea where Tony came up with that name, but trust me, it's the least of my concerns. Now, I'm not concerned about the imaginary friend part. Pretty much every child psychologist in the world is quick to reassure worried parents that an imaginary friend is completely normal. The troublesome part is that Histins appears to be Tony's evil twin. For example, a few months ago I was irritated at Tony. His room was a disaster, and I told him we couldn't go to the park until he straightened it up a bit. He pouted, but got to work with putting the toys and books away. A few minutes later, I returned to his room, only to find a greater mess than before. I told Tony, once again, that a trip to the park was not in the cards until I could see a clear path on his bedroom floor. In exasperation, Tony said, "I did clean up my room, but Histins messed it up again!" Hmmm. Since that day...
Someone peed on the floor? Histins.
Milk knocked over? Histins.
A loud crash from a room other than the one I'm in at the moment? "Histins did it, Mama!"
*A disclaimer, if you will. Lest anyone believe that I'm a tyrannical parent who loses her mind over spilled milk, a potty accident or a cluttered room, rest assured I'm not. I don't freak out over typical preschooler antics; I'm more the eye rolling, okay-let's-try-this-again-and-get-this-show-on-the-road type of mom. So, I sincerely doubt that Histins was created out of some bizarre childhood trauma.
So, initially Histins was nothing more than a joke between Will and I. ("Will, did you seriously forget to take the trash out again?" "Of course I did! Histins took it away from the curb!"). That was, until the day Tony said this:
Me: *enters Tony's room, sighs audibly upon seeing dirty clothes tossed out of the hamper and thrown haphazardly around the room* "Tony, what have I told you about taking dirty clothes out of the hamper?"
Tony: "Histins did it, Mama!"
Me: *impatient now* "Yeah, yeah, well, tell Histins Mama has enough cleaning and laundry to do without him adding to my workload."
Tony: "He heard you, Mama. Histins is standing right next to you."
Me:
I dare say, we may be in need of an exorcist around here.
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