Sometimes he teaches me

Ever had a bad night? Like a REALLY bad night? Like you actually have the thought that you need to escape the room/house or you may physically harm an animal or dog? I hope that’s not just me….

Bedtime can be an absolute beast at our house, especially on football nights. My boys are generally well-behaved, fun to be around, full of laughs and sweet. However, if Daddy is gone and it’s after 8 pm, it’s like a switch is flipped. I know there are many nights my attitude doesn’t help–by that time of day, I’m DONE. EXHAUSTED. Between, work, house showings, cooking, the everyday runnings of a household, being a wife and mom, I’m just plain TIRED. So when 9 pm rolls around and both boys are STILL GOING STRONG, I start to have a slight mental unhinging. (Also, it never fails, our dog will bark or pace at this point, which usually leads to me spouting obscenities at her–in my head.)

Recently, the hubby was gone to a middle school football game, and bed time came…after 49 minutes of rocking the baby brother, I attempted to just lay down with him. After an additional 20 minutes of literal kicking and babbling, big brother came to join us. The following 15 minutes consisted of a lot of threatening, then moving big brother to his room. Finally, the boys seemed to be calming down, but only after lots of tears and screaming. At long last, around 10:02 pm, baby brother fell asleep, and when I went to tuck big brother in, he looked at me and said, “Momma, I want God to help me take a nap.” Me too, little guy! Me too.

How often, do I NOT ask God to give me grace during what seem to be the small, mundane moments? I have a terrible voice that tells me He has bigger fish to fry, and my boys going to sleep is not something I need to trouble Him. How wrong! He cares about the everyday, mundane acts–the ones that seem so small but can so quickly become overwhelming. I’m hoping and praying that next time bedtime is a beast, and I’m doing it solo that I am reminded of my toddler’s sweet thought that “God can help us take a nap.”

Well, poop.

Almost four years ago, I was expecting my first child. With that came certain expectations–in all honesty, I wanted a girl. I wanted a dainty, precious, tender-hearted sweet girl who would sleep on a schedule, never get into anything dirty, play with dolls, and paint nails. God has a sense of humor, and at times it seems a little twisted to me. Four years and two boys later there is nothing dainty about our house, and there is LOTS. OF. DIRT. See this precious face….would you guess that this face has to be washed EVERY night because it’s usually covered in dirt, snot, food, and who knows what else?

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That sweet face, well, he ate poop. The hubby and I were sanding and cleaning off the siding on the house in an effort to get ready to sell (whole other post), and the boys were playing at their sand table. I glanced to do a check and make sure they were still getting along somewhat peacefully. I was puzzled when I noticed H was chewing something with a rather disgusted look on his face. Immediate panic set in when I crammed my fish-hook finger in his mouth to scrape out what he was chewing…poop. Dang dog poop. In four years we’ve had our fair share of poop encounters, but this was the grossest to me…my child was eating poop. I debated googling what to do, but figured that would just end in the assumption that he was going to die from it, so cringing, I broke out the water hose, did my best to scrape any remains of feces out of his precious mouth, and let him guzzle water.

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Thank you God for your sense of humor, precious boys who eat dirt and poop, but thank you most of all for letting them survive it! Also, if my little guy ever argues with me about trying a new food, I’m going to remind him that he was willing to try dog poop, so he sure as heck can try anything!

 

Brownie Baking {also known as the time I realized my baby isn’t a baby}

So, my hubby took some fun pictures of C licking the brownie bowl. (Sorry, Betty Crocker, I know you have a note on the back of your box saying never to consume raw brownie batter, but c’mon! In my world, 87% of the reason I make brownies is so I can lick the bowl and/or spoon.) Anyway, when I uploaded these images, I may have gotten a little teary. My baby is not a baby, and I’ve known this for a while, but now he doesn’t even look like a toddler! He is a boy! A small man-child!

Random side-note: we have been ruined and can no longer make brownies without adding Reese’s peanut butter chips.

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I.T.S. {Irrational Toddler Syndrome}

My kid has ITS. I don’t need a doctor’s diagnosis. I just know. Sometimes I wish there was a “quick fix,” a pill, or anything other than my desperate R E P E A T E D attempts to bestow some sort of logic or reason into my child. Don’t misunderstand, my boy is a JOY, a BLESSING, and I wouldn’t give him up for all the world…however, there are times when I think it is SO odd that a person of such small stature can have such strong, absolutely INSANE opinions. And without fail, his irrationality can cause me to lose my mind and become irrational as well. Is ITS contagious?!? I’m sure my baby will catch on soon.

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Some irrational behaviors include:

  • any drop of water on any article of clothing means ALL clothes must come off IMMEDIATELY. (perhaps he’ll melt if not?)
  • related to water on clothing…washing his hair. I’ve been afraid that the neighbors will report us for disturbing the peace or domestic disturbance. If you listen in on a hair washing, you would probably assume he’s being murdered.
  • tags on clothing…remove all the tags! (if not extreme whining and somewhat comical attempts at removing the clothing will ensue)
  • a deathly fear of spiders (but he’ll kill a fly or squish a worm with his bare hands)
  • if he’s cold, then a blanket must cover E V E R Y inch of him up to his neck. If any appendage is peeking out from under said blanket, prepare for wailing and gnashing of teeth.
  • swings and slides–he must be coaxed to do any of them alone, but if he’s playing with friends, he’ll be quick to find the top of the slide. (We’re still trying to convince him that he’s “too big” for the baby swing. Pops attempted a little over Easter weekend. He LOVED it on Pops’ lap, but HATED it on his own.)

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If anyone knows of a cure for ITS, I’d love to hear it. For now, we use bribery, distraction, discipline, prayer…and we cut tags out of clothing, avoid spiders and wet shirts, and rarely wash hair.DSC_6071web

I’m sure someday we’ll look back and laugh at this. In the meantime, we’re gonna work on explaining 1 Timothy 1:7 “For God has not given us a spirit of fear, but of power and of love and of a SOUND MIND.”

Epic Parenting Quote #3

forksandswords

 

You know, because brothers enjoy fighting more than eating.

Epic Parenting Quote #2

cowAhh, bedtime routines with a three-year old Master Negotiator. {Seriously, the thought has already crossed my mind that when he grows up, he’ll be the guy on the phone with someone talking them through a hostage situation.} The hubby and I joke about Stall Tactics, but it’s only a joke to keep from losing our mind. Our Negotiator’s favorite Stall Tactics include pooping, reading about Jesus, and my personal favorite, praying…hard to say no to that one. Of course, he’s always suddenly starving or thirsty even though he’s turned away half his dinner. He also is more eager to read at bedtime than any other time as well.

When I saw this post from Glennon at Momastery, I couldn’t help but relate! It’s possible that someday I’ll miss all the interruptions and not having to convince a Master Negotiator that there isn’t a monster or cow in his room (btw, he mooed quietly before crying to me about a cow scaring him), but for now, I’d just like him to go to sleep without hearing 371 different Stall Tactics.

Epic Parenting Quote #1

Sometimes I find myself saying some of the strangest things to my boys…things I NEVER thought I’d say before becoming a parent.  In an effort to someday recall just how strange parenting can be, I’m going to begin keeping a record of some of the crazy things I say. At times I may provide context, and others, it’ll be a quick single quote.

Real men with swords eat their beans.”