Tag: parenthood

mommyhood

Super-Fly

WFAM

Our morning did not start out well. I had decided to be magnanimous and allow Mad Dog to sleep in on Labor Day morning. How he managed to sleep through all the racket of the boys is beyond me.

Full Speed seemed determined to dominate his little brother on this fine morning and was going out of his way to make T.Puzzle cry. He would snatch a beloved (of the moment) toy from him at every possible turn and he would block T.Puzzle from going where he wanted. I tried to let it slide and see if they could work it out. Eventually, I had to intervene as I could see that T.Puzzle was being reduced to helpless tears again and again.

“Go to your room, Full Speed. I don’t like how you are treating your brother.”

Of course in that moment Full Speed folded like a bad hand of poker. “No Mommy!! I’m sorry! I’m sorry! When can I come back down?” He even managed to have real tears as he protested his punishment.

Frack's freak

Begrudgingly, he made his way upstairs and then the real hysterics began. He’s crying and screaming and yelling “Mommy! Mommy! Mommy!”

Full Speed is a bit unpredictable. He can be tough as nails if he isn’t getting what he wants and will be the first to defiantly draw a line in the sand. If you ask him to jump three feet and he’s in one of his moods, he will jump exactly two feet, eleven and three quarters inches, pause give you a rebellious look and take the repercussions like a man. Then, he will promptly turn to you and wait for the next round.

I went up stairs preparing for war and to explain his options. “Here are your choices.  You can either continue to carry on and scream and cry which means you will be staying in your room indefinitely or you can come downstairs and play nicely with your brother. It is entirely up to you. If you are choosing to come downstairs then you need to say “yes ma’am” when I ask you to be kind to T.Puzzle.”

“Are you ready to be nice to your brother?” I waited an appropriate five seconds to hear a ‘yes ma’am’ and heard none. Full Speed stared at me with his arms crossed and his chin jutting up at me indicating he wasn’t ready to cave. This did not surprise me.

“Fine, then you can stay here.” I turned around and headed for the door. I actually did this all rather calmly, too.

He freaked his freak. “Yes, ma’am!” he wailed. “Yes, ma’am I’m ready to be nice, don’t make me stay up here anymore,” his distress seemed genuine.

“Too little too late,” is all I said.

As I made the turn to leave, out of the corner of my eye I could see him scramble up his bed. He raced towards the back of it. I sensed something extreme was about to go down. I held my own and continued my way out of the room. Before I knew it, Full Speed was running full throttle towards me and the end of the bed. Had I not turned my body and extended my arms at the precise moment that I did, I would have missed his hurtling, four year old body and he would have collided rather harshly with the floor of his bedroom. I was relieved that he was unhurt and also impressed with his absolute commitment to freeing himself from the confines of his bedroom. It was an act that I will forever remember as ‘super-fly’. Overall he had good form and he stuck the landing (meaning his little arms clung to me so tightly, he instantly adhered into place; he’s a tough little sucker).

super fly

After I pried his crazed form from my limbs and after another round of discipline, Full Speed eventually acquiesced and came downstairs with a slightly (very slightly) improved attitude.

When it was time to get ready for our family bike ride (as Mad Dog was now up after hearing the calamity of the super-fly incident) I told Full Speed to help T.Puzzle get his shorts and crocs on while I put T.Puzzle’s dirty diaper in the garbage out in the garage.

I wanted to see if Full Speed was up for the challenge and if he could do it in a loving and caring manner. It took quite a while and a lot of coaching on Full Speed’s part to get T.Puzzle into his shorts (they ultimately were put on backwards). It was a cute exchange between the two of them. As I watched Full Speed proceed down the hall to retrieve T.Puzzle’s crocs I paid close attention to see if he would get the right ones. One of T.Puzzle’s Spider-man crocs has been M.I.A. for a couple of weeks now. The remedy has been that he wears the remaining Spidey-croc on one foot and then a cheap, clearance navy-blue Target croc on the other (we have to refer to it as his Incredible Hulk croc to get him excited about wearing it; good thing he hasn’t made the connection that the Hulk is green and not navy-blue like his new, clearance croc).

Frick's crocs

Full Speed emerges with the correct crocs (one navy, one Spidey) and helps T.Puzzle put them on (the wrong feet of course). Full Speed is equal parts tormentor and caregiver to his little brother. I am thankful there is a balance of compassion thrown in with his aggression towards T.Puzzle. That’s super-fly in my book.

marital blissishness, mommyhood

The Best Train Ride Ever

WFAM

We are always looking for suitable family outings on the weekends. Since we were in the middle of a long holiday one, we were already starting to run out of ideas (at least of ideas I  wanted to participate in, I had reached my limit of arcade games and go-carts). Mad Dog came up with a lovely solution. He suggested we go to the fancy outdoor mall and check out a new eatery for dinner. His thought would be that we could check out the stores for my benefit (if I was really lucky maybe even a purchase for me), have the boys walk as much as possible (to tire them out of course) and eat outdoors (always a good choice when dining with the rambunctious Full Speed and T.Puzzle).
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As we pulled into the main complex and drove around a bit to get our bearings, we ended up behind a miniature train. Of course the boys went berserk (especially T.Puzzle who has an undying love of all things train) and I died a little inside. Let me give you some history.

This is the type of train you see at most malls. It’s a new-fangled one that doesn’t run on tiny track. Instead it peruses the ENTIRE mall. I have already ridden the exact same type of train at our nearby indoor mall dozens of times (much to my dismay). The thing I hate (I know it’s a strong word, it’s honestly how I feel) the most about these rides is cramming my adult body into a minuscule train car and then having everyone in the mall stare at me while I pretend to enjoy my discomfort and wave Miss America-style to everyone we pass. I’m a rather self-conscious person and this is utter torture for me.

With a heavy heart, I knew we were going to have to go on the train ride here. I didn’t even know they had one. I may have reconsidered this entire outing if I had full train disclosure (I blame no one but myself).

We made it through dinner and it was mostly enjoyable. There were a few tense moments with T.Puzzle and some asparagus. We got through it. Then it was train time.

Having only been to this outdoor mall once before and never noticing a train, we didn’t know where to get aboard. As we began walking, Mad Dog tried to flag down the conductor to no avail. So we began to high-tail it through the masses of people and car covered side streets. The train seemed to move slowly. It was an illusion.  The boys were frantically trying to keep pace with Mad Dog as the train slips farther and farther from view. We were dodging people left and right and I began sweating profusely. Even an early September evening in Florida can be rockin’ hot. Needless to say, I’m not happy.

We catch the train at a corner only to see it slither away and make a wide u-turn. I’m staring to get angry. The boys are beside themselves fearing all is lost. I turn to Mad Dog and say, “I’m done chasing this stupid (I know, I know, I try so very hard not to use the stupid word in front of the boys) train.”

Mad Dog is single-minded in his quest and does not hear me (he better not have been ignoring me!). He keeps pushing forward. Full Speed is now on Mad Dog’s shoulders and T.Puzzle is weaving back and forth dangerously close to Mad Dog’s legs. In an instant, T.Puzzle gets tangled in the middle of Mad Dog’s stride and falls flat on the paved side-walk with a sickening thud. He lets out a wail and I want to cry right along with him.

After some quick consolation, we are all ready for the train. We pile in the teeny-tiny caboose and I angrily announce to Mad Dog to not make any inappropriate comments about my denim skirt and the awkward angle of my legs. I wasn’t in the mood. He immediately is defensive. “Don’t you start with me,” sort of dealy is what he said. He claims he wasn’t going to say anything, I think his past behavior speaks for itself and I will leave it at that.

So, there we are, Mad Dog and I are fuming at each other and then the boys began to bicker and fight. That’s when I knew this was going to be the best train ride ever.

mommyhood

Under the Bus

WFAM

On the weekends we have a ritual for Full Speed. He is allowed on Friday and Saturday nights (if he has been respectful throughout the day) to fall asleep in Mom and Dad’s bed. When we turn in Mad Dog moves Full Speed to his own bed and we all happily sleep the night away.

T.Puzzle is getting old enough now that it is time to transition him to a big boy bed. Even though I know it is time, it has been put on the back-burner until Full Speed is through the other side of his surgeries. I try to have a strict policy of one major life event at time. As if I have any control over that one…

Last night, Mad Dog and I deemed T.Puzzle old enough to participate. Meaning I was going to allow the privilege of both boys to fall asleep in our bed. It was my job to get them in their pajama attire (Mad Dog did help bathe them), read them a story (I picked something short and sweet) and turn out the lights. Mad Dog was off on a Target-run to get us the second season of Entourage (Johnny Drama is our favorite).

T.Puzzle was awfully restless during our nighttime story. He kept attempting handstands and throwing his legs up in the air. He would inevitably lose his balance and slide off the side of the bed all the while yelling, “Whoa!” He has this way of saying “whoa” in a crescendo that perfectly mimics his falls to the floor.

I immediately was incredulous. Maybe my little T.Puzzle was not going to make it in a big-person bed after all. When I tucked them in, I regally climbed a-top my soap box (metaphorically speaking, you know I love a good metaphor) and sternly told them what’s what.

“Sleeping in Mommy and Daddy’s bed is a privilege and you must treat it as such. There can be no rough-housing and no one is allowed to leave the bed. The first boy I see come down the stairs will be immediately relocated to his bed no questions asked. If you think I’m not serious, go ahead and give me a try and see what happens,” I stated in my best don’t-mess-with-Mommy voice. I had sufficiently frightened myself so I figured that was the best I could do.

“I love you both, I will see you tomorrow (hopefully not a minute sooner).” I proceeded to head downstairs to our lanai to read my ‘People’ magazine (I’m not ashamed, I love my ‘People’!).

Not two minutes later I see T.Puzzle standing before me.

“Hi Mommy!” he says.

Well, that did it; I had to follow through on my threat. Up the stairs he went kicking and screaming. I put him in his room and shut the door. Even with the door closed it did next to nothing to muffle the roar of his tantrum.

Something wasn’t quite adding up. When T.Puzzle appeared before my eyes downstairs he had his brother’s doggie. Why would T.Puzzle have his brother’s doggie? I went into my room to investigate.

“Full Speed, did you tell your brother to bring me your doggie so he would get in trouble and have to go to his room (Full Speed does NOT like to share Mommy and Daddy’s bed with his brother!)?”

“Well, you see Mommy, T.Puzzle said he wanted to go downstairs and I helped pack him up.” He said it all so harmlessly.

I don’t know exactly what dialogue was exchanged between the two of them. I have a feeling Full Speed somehow threw T.Puzzle under the bus. Full Speed is lucky that T.Puzzle doesn’t have great verbal skills (yet, he is only two) to tell his side of the story. I’m guessing it might have went like this,

Full Speed says, “T.Puzzle, why don’t you go downstairs and show Mommy my doggie, she really wants to see it.”

T.Puzzle says, “Yeah.” He heads downstairs where he is promptly disciplined and placed in his crib. A win-win for Full Speed.

This is all speculation, next time I may need to put a recording device of some sort next to the bed. I have a feeling T.Puzzle could use the back-up.

the real smack down

mommyhood

Together Wii Stand

WFAM

Full Speed and I retrieved T.Puzzle from Grandma and Grandpa’s and our long day at home began. Full Speed was feeling much better of course, so he was in high need of entertainment. I had anticipated this and had sent Mad Dog to Blockbuster to rent some Wii games and a couple movies.

I talked up the first movie big time. ‘The Race to Witch Mountain’ is going to be super cool and exciting I said to them. Full Speed couldn’t believe his luck, it sounded too good to be true. At around 10am I put the movie on for them and headed downstairs to get caught up on an out-of-control laundry situation. No sooner than I began to fold a Spider-man t-shirt, Full Speed started shouting at me.

“Mom! Come here and push play. The movie is not starting.” I could hear the frustration rising in his voice.

I was in denial. I was going to attempt to explain my way out of having to trek all the way back upstairs.

“Full Speed, I started it, now watch the movie!” I did my best scary-Mom voice to get my point across.

“No you didn’t Mom, come and press play.” He had peaked my curiosity. I was certain the movie was on when I left the room; I was trying to figure out if I was that out of touch with my reality to have not started the movie and walk away.

I made the trip up the steps (holding only a tiny grudge in my heart, I hate laundry anyway). As my head cleared the top stair I had a view of the TV. The movie was on and the action had started in full force. The movie was bewitching and mountainous.

“Full Speed, I told you the movie was on, this is what it looks like,” I stated as I tried to hold my exasperation in check (I don’t think I did a very good job).

“Where are the racers, then?” he asked.

Oh, I got it; Full Speed is a die-hard race car guy. He thought the race to Witch Mountain was an actual NASCAR-type race. Since it is not, he immediately lost interest and I had nine hours until bedtime (he didn’t nap either; you would think he would, that’s not Full Speed’s style even if he has a fever) to keep him occupied.

I turned to the Wii games. Full Speed is old enough to hold his own in Wii sports (he had a celebrated day last year in which he beat Mad Dog in both bowling and golf) but other games are slightly beyond his grasp. The solution is to give him a controller, keep one for yourself and then play the game using only your controller while allowing the belief that Full Speed is the commandeer of operations. Works like a charm. The major flaw in this plan is that you actually have to play the game yourself. While some of these games can be fun on an occasional basis, most are mind-numbing to me in their machinations.

I had to play G-Force and maneuver Darwin (a Disney guinea pig character) through his nine levels of special ops training. When we made it to level six, the sharp-shooting section, I dreamed of being able to turn the laser gun on Darwin himself. I knew it was time to end the game.

We tried a few other various video games with much of the same outcome. I don’t like video games about guinea pigs. I don’t like video games in general. I’m a girl. I’m an adult. I’d rather read a good book and drink a glass of Chardonnay. I gave up and let them watch a television program of their own choosing. That’s how I made it until lunchtime.

After lunch, I put them to bed (T.Puzzle slept gloriously for TWO hours, Full Speed spent his time calling out to me and negotiating that it really was time for him to get up now), and felt the weight of the remainder of the afternoon pressing down on me.

Then, the heavens opened up and the stars aligned. Aunt Skee had sent a care package for Full Speed’s now canceled eye surgery. She had gifts a-plenty for Full Speed and even one for T.Puzzle so he wouldn’t feel left out (she’s good like that). Lo and behold, two new Transformers for them to play with. The real gift is that they played quietly with them for over forty-five minutes. That’s an all time record.

If I had opened the care package and found a Wii game instead, I would have lost it for sure.

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