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Dinner Reservation For Lucas, Your Floor Is Ready
This is not what I imagined feeding a toddler would be like. I just got over a good old fashioned gut wrenching cry. My baby won’t eat his food…unless it is on the floor. He also won’t wear clothes or his diaper. So what does that leave me with, a naked baby eating food off the floor. I try so hard.
B.B. (before baby) I was all about the pontificating. I will have boundaries and consistency. My baby will not learn bad behaviors because he will not be given the opportunity to learn them. For instance, B.B. I thought if my baby throws food on the floor then lunch is over and he will just have to wait till dinner to eat again. That way my baby will “learn” that throwing food on the floor is unacceptable.
I was sooo full of shit.
That was before I knew that a hungry baby = an angry baby complete with blood curdling screams, a continuous whining sound of waaaah – waaah – waaah, wanting up and then down simultaneously, little hands scratching my eyes out, and some no nonsense pulling of my hair. My baby doesn’t need baby sign language to communicate, he is saying, “Fuck you!” I don’t need $75.00 of Baby Einstein tapes to tell me my baby is pissed and wants his food…on the floor.
So I toil away in the kitchen battered and bruised, (and missing patches of hair) lovingly cutting up over priced organic fruit that I have to drive half way across town to get. I carefully butter Lucas’ stone ground bread with organic butter from a small farm in Vermont with a picture of the “Bessie”, the family’s dairy cow, on the packaging. Only to have Lucas throw the food on the floor…not to mention Bessie the cow’s hard work. It’s not easy having something pull on your udders all day. Show some respect child.
I take Lucas out of his high chair and before I can even turn around, the diaper is off and my child is scurrying around naked on his hands and knees eating his food off the floor like a child in a Save the Children commercial with Sally Struthers.
That’s when the bawling starts, my bawling. My child has a will of his own. He is growing up, going from baby to toddler. All which is good….I guess…right? It is frustrating though I have to admit. Is true love still feeding something, despite the fact that the something you are feeding, scratches your eyes out and pulls your hair. I don’t want to turn into an inflexible Mother. “It’s the high chair or NOTHING!” That would be horrible, but a balance between the two is something I am working on. In the meantime, dinner is served.
See you on the rug.
Evil Knievel Jr.
Emergency Room, meet Lucas. Lucas meet Emergency Room. I think the two of you will be getting to know each other quite well as the years go by. I think I have a future dare devil on my hands. This is a photo from the gym play room. As I approached the playroom I could hear loud baby yelling and crashing noises, I knew it was my son. They gym room attendant informed me that Lucas Evil Knievel Jr. had taken off his shoes, hopped on the tricycle, put on that head gear, and was ramming into the wall and all the toys in the playroom. It was totally adorable. My 16 month old future motorcross bad ass. At least he is wearing a helmut.
Helping Mommy
I have been saying for a while now that I need more help around here. Lucas must of heard my cries call and decided to help me with the dishwasher. I thought I said help Mommy unload the dishwasher, he must of heard…stand on the dishwasher. Beggars can’t be choosers.
A Lucas Original
The latest ”artwork” by my baby Lucas. I wonder if Picasso took a pen to his Mother’s chair when she was trying to do the dishes. Lie to me.
Get Your Motor Running, Head Out On The Highway…
”I can’t can drive 55″… Sammy Hagar
Harrison got his driver’s permit.
I know I should be worried, anxious, and nervous (I am) about Harrison being on the open road, but what I am mostly feeling for him is thrilled. Thrilled like I just got into size six jeans, thrilled like the test came back negative, thrilled like when we rescued a dog from the pound (before Ettore and Reilly had severe allergic reactions and we had to give the dog away). I am truly excited for Harrison that he got his driver’s permit.
It is such a big step. That first taste of freedom. I remember when I got my driver’s permit. It burned a hole in my 80’s acid washed jeans (that already had plenty of holes). I wanted to drive everywhere. I’d wash the car just to be able to drive it out of the driveway. I’d beg to drive to the bank, grocery store, anywhere just to get a chance to get behind the wheel. I had to smile the other night when Harrison wanted to go back to the bakery at 9:00 p.m. to get a dessert, or should I say drive to get a dessert. I have to say Harrison does a good job driving. I’m really proud of him.
Working Hard
Daddy and Lucas taking out the trash. Next we are going to teach Lucas how to vacuum out the cars.
Better Than A Dog
Out for a stroll...
...and a roll
Forget cats. The Obamas can keep their Portugese Water Dog. The latest addition to our family is a pet broom. Brooms don’t bark, brooms don’t have expensive vet bills, and instead of peeing on the floor – brooms actually…literally pick up after themselves. Like any good family pet the broom goes with us everywhere, and Lucas is very attached. He loves that broom and dust pan. I say shelve Fido, and get your kids a great broom. You’ll never have to play fetch again.
Best Friends
They say there is nothing like a boy and his dog, for Lucas it is a boy and his broom. Lucas LOVES this broom. We went to Easter services tonight and we couldn’t get Lucas in the car unless we brought the broom complete with dust pan. No imaginary friend for my boy. Instead of Easter bunnies, we are loving dust bunnies.
Calling Sherlock Holmes: UPDATE
THE SUPERGLUE IN QUESTION HAS GONE MISSING!
A lineup of the lead suspects
Several posts ago I wrote about a mystery in our household. I had brought some superglue into this house and the only thing that ended up getting mysteriously glued together were the scissors. Someone had gotten into the glue. I put on my sleuth hat and shook down the boys for a confession as to the true identity of the serial gluer. Neither one cracked. Oddly enough, the scissors have now become unglued, but Exhibit A, my prime evidence, the glue bottle itself has gone missing. This is a tough case, I am obviously dealing with a professional.
Is It Something I Said?
Dear Diary,
Mile five of family bonding road trip. Things are going well. The kids seem to really be enjoying the Sunday drive. It is soooo quiet in the backseat, the kids must be concentrating on the stories their Dad and I are telling them of our childhoods. They must be listening to every word, I don’t even hear Harrison texting on his cell phone…and they aren’t even arguing. We planned this outing for awhile, it appears to be worth all the effort. I am so encouraged, we will have to do this more often. Even the little one is quiet and listening. We are such good parents!
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