The ruckus was terrible. Stomping feet up the stairs, the sound of the high pressure shower setting splashing water everywhere, the unmistakable whine of a resisting toddler.
What on earth is going on?
After some intervention, my best soothing voice and a little triage—it was poop.
“Honey, poop is not an emergency”.
”It is when it happens during qualifying!!”
Point taken.
We’re on hour two of Easter basket amusement. Who says kids don’t like post it notes and twist ties? Also, Paulie is barfing downstairs. In the bathroom that has plastic garbage bags taped up on the walls where we ripped out the shower tile. {Sips coffee}
Me: “You said ‘Aldi’s’ little while ago, now there’s an Aldi ad in my feed. I’ve never had an Aldi ad before.”
Mom: “So what?”
Me: “It’s listening, I swear the devices are listening”
Mom: “What? Ooh, that’s spooky….”
Also Mom: holds up iPad, “SEX!”
Sunday is baking day at home.
”I like cookies when they are warm because they are soft. Soft cookies are better for sneaking up on people, because you can still have a snack while you are doing your sneaking, but because they aren’t crunchy, they can’t hear you.”
We are moved back in to the house, the temporary apartment has been emptied and cleaned. I still have boxes and boxes to go through in the basement, as well as furniture to move upstairs and art to rehang. Paulie is chipping away at painting ceilings, touching up walls, reinstalling blinds and installing light fixtures. But overall, it’s done. The kitchen, done. The mud room, done. The back family room, done. The floors, done. The Book Shower, done.
When I captured this moment, I thought, “Worth every penny”. And then I noticed it was Captain Underpants, and I thought, well, can’t win em all.
Some moments with toddlers are unforgettable, some are unbelievable, and some are one hundred percent the legacy of Pat Mikkelsen’s child rearing.
Me: “Oh Charlie, you are so fucking beautiful!”
Charlie: “Mama, you’re fucking beautiful every day!”
I’m standing in a contraption that stretches my calf and foot to relieve the pain of my plantar fasciitis, stretching my arms up along the wall, wishing for help to pull the ache out.
Me: ”Remember when they used to put people on the rack? Wouldn’t that feel good now?”
Paulie: “And throw a little heat underneath it”
Just when I feel overwhelmed by risk and debt and responsibilities, a little voice reminds me of how good we’ve got it.
Me, scooping up apple cores, baby wipes and Culver's bags: “Man, this car is a mess”.
Viv: ”At least it doesn't smell like old cheese anymore”.
In an effort to make a temporary, rather bleak one bedroom apartment more tolerable for the family, especially over the holiday, I’ve been thinking we will have some fun and try to make it a little adventure.
Mama: ”Honey, let’s make the little apartment fun, we can decorate it anyway we want. How about a theme from one of your books?”
Viv: “Can it be Oliver Twist?
I have a sheet of stickers. Charlie comes over, asks for a sticker, gets a sticker and waddles in to the next room. In that room, he folds the sticker. A minute later, he is back, waving his hand around with the half folded sticker stuck to it and proclaiming that the sticker is broken. He asks for another sticker; I oblige.
We have passed an hour this way. And it is just about the right speed of activity and responsibility I can handle right now. The house construction starts on Tuesday. I am not ready. My brain is broken. Can I have another?
(photo cred Vivi)
