Gravity Storm

Anytime one of the hoodlums fall over, Papa (my Dad) will say "gravity storm". Kaylee doesn't fall as much anymore, but her little brother, for as coordinated as he is, can't seem to stay on his feet. Brady seems to walk into these "storms" quite often.


I'll be in the kitchen doing dishes or making something to eat and one minute he's standing and the next I hear a loud "thump, Waaaaaaaah" and he's on his back, his hip, his face, his head....you get the idea. I mean it is INSTANT. Thwack. Scream. How it happens so fast is beyond me. You blink, you miss. It's amazing.


And you'd think the kid would learn from his mistakes, but much like a twenty year old girl who keeps going out with the same asshole with a different name, Brady keeps doing the same thing over and over and over.


For example, I can't tell you how many times the little fella has fallen off the dang kitchen bar stool while farting (figuratively, not literally, that is another post for another time) around at dinner time. And everytime is results in a bloody nose. EVERY. FREAKING. TIME.


This past weekend, however, was by far the WORST fall of all time. I was, of course, doing the dishes. One minute I'm saying "Brady eat your dinner before I smack ya" and then next thing I know as I'm bent down to put a plate in the dishwasher I hear a VERY loud "thud"....then the dreaded silence.


You know, the silence where you are waiting and you think maybe, just maybe, he won't scream. You hang there, breathless, like a dangling participle, anxious and alert. Then, it comes. The loud, never-ending screech and you know that this time, without a doubt, there will be blood. Lots of it.


Since the old hubs was recovering from the surgery to prevent further children (thank God) he was unable to pick up the poor little man. By the time I got to him, the blood had just started dripping. Unfortunately I made a critical error in judgement, by mentioning that there was blood coming out, causing my son to look down which then caused gallons of blood to come gushing out.


I picked him up, ran to the bathroom and laid him on his back. Have YOU ever tried to hold a three yeear old down on a bathroom counter about 1/3 of his actual size? I really don't recommend it, I felt like I was wrestling a fricken alligator.


But then, now this is the best part, as I am cleaning him up, or attempting to, he caught sight of all the blood and TOTALLY lost his mind. Screaming, writhing, more blood shooting out, it seriously looked like a freaking murder scene in our bathroom. We had three, count 'em THREE washclothes covered in the red stuff, plus my clothes, his, the counter, sink, carpet, etc etc etc.


We finally got him calmed down and the blood stopped and attempted to ice his face. Again, have YOU ever tried to put ice on a rapidly swelling nose of a very busy and extremely agitated 3 year old boy? Again, I don't recommend it.


Here, for your viewing pleasure, is the end result of the events described above, and yes, he's sitting on the toilet. As mentioned in a previous post the kid takes 15 minutes to poop, what else was I supposed to do:

Things about children that I will never understand

1. Why I can repeat things like "put your shoes on" and "get in the car" about a thousand times before the kids "hear" me, but when I say "who wants ice cream" just ONE TIME they respond.

2. Why children can remember the one time you said a swear word, four months ago, but they don't remember why they can't mess around on the furniture, despite the fact that every time it results in a bloody nose and/or the icing of some body part.

3. Why children are incapable of buttoning their pants, zipping their coats, and putting on their shoes at home, but are magically granted the ability at school or friend's houses.

4. Why it is so freaking difficult to get in the car for ANY reason OTHER than to go to Silverwood. I swear, I should just tell them we're going to Silverwood EVERY DAY and then it would take 30 seconds as opposed to fifteen minutes.

5. Why cheese makes everything more palatable for children to eat. Vegetables, meat and yes, even fruit. Blech.

6. Why children want to dip every piece of their dinner meal in their juice cup. Soooooo gross.

7. Why, when the kids were in diapers, it took them less than 15 seconds to fill them up with poop, but now that they are toilet trained it takes them at least 15 minutes to finish. AND sometimes they even ask for reading material.

8. Why kids look so deceivingly angelic when they're sleeping, but the minute their feet hit the floor you can almost see the devil horns poking out. Totally Jekyl & Hyde.

9. Why they remember to tell you when you do things you shouldn't such as coughing without covering your mouth, forgetting to say excuse me when you belch or fart, and yet they can't seem to remember those things for themselves.

10. How you can love them so much, even when you feel like selling them on eBay.

Another moment of irony in our household

If you read this and you know my husband......don't tell him about this post. I'll find you. I swear.

As you all may well know, Mark underwent the old knife to prevent further spawn in our family. I have to say that I found it VERY interesting that the man was afraid to take a shower (even though the instructions said he could) and he waited three agonizing and very smelly days to do so.

It also said he could take ibuprofen and some other pain meds that they sent home with him (which I have placed in a secure location for my own future use), and yet he didn't take anything, but preferred instead to tell me how painful it was. CONSTANTLY.

And yet...the instructions also said he should wait a week before, um, well, you know, but he was willing to break the rules last night. Of all the things to ignore, it had to be that one?

The most frightening moment as a parent......so far

I had my most frightening moment as a parent this weekend (so far). Was it when Brady fell off the kitchen bar stool (again) and we think he may have broken his nose? Sadly, no. Was it Friday morning thinking Kaylee might have the swine flu? Nope. (and it turned out to be a sinus/ear infection, thank goodness).

Instead, it was the very moment that I realized my five year old daughter figured out that there are limits to what we can do to get her to do what she's SUPPOSED to do. She is waaaaaaay to young to know that she can withstand physical torture in the name of getting what she wants. She is too young to have figured out that, unless we install restraints, there's really no way we can keep her in bed when he have banished her to it for being a turd.

She is too small to know that, no matter what we say or do, her physical presence has grown enough that she can, in fact, fight back. OMIGOD. Needless to say, this was a difficult weekend. I was a man down and she knew it. (for those of you not in the small town gossip loop, Mark took preventative measures - ahem, snip snip, ahem - last week so we won't be having more children, and after this weekend......... he's like a God to me)

I kind of assumed that she would come to this realization, I dunno, sometime in her teens. I figured I had a good nine or ten years of maintaining some sort of control. Wait.....I think I hear my mother laughing in Boise right now.....stop it Mom!!

Let me tell ya, it is a VERY scary thing when you've tried everything, and I mean EVERYTHING, save for things that CPS would frown on, to get your kid to A) eat her goddamn dinner; B) stop smacking her brother around; C)get her f--king clothes on for school and; D) (my personal favorite) do something you've asked her to do by least the third, if not second time, you've asked. Is that asking too much?

I did recognize a pattern of behavior though (and this is where I KNOW my Mom is laughing so hard she might pee a little) that she wants to have control over the house, her choices, and quite frankly our whole family. Which is really really unfortunate, because I am the one who wants to have control. So it's a battle of wills my peeps, and guess what? This weekend, it was a freaking DRAW.

Next time, chalk one up to MOM. I'm going to buy some restraints for her bed today. Oh, and turning the lock on her door around.

This isn't alarming to PETA?

Have you seen the email that has all these poor dogs in halloween costume? Here's a sample.

Where is PETA when you REALLY need them? Seriously.