Here's a little something that happened on September 19th.
My oldest child is so psychic, and this story alone will sound like a silly way to say so, but let’s just leave it at that.
So today, after a couple of quick conference calls, we went to see the Animal Guys . (more on this and animal consciousness soon). Our playgroup had arranged for them to come to the park for a potluck show, and one of the other children was having a birthday party with a bounce house, too. It was cool and definitely educational for all, especially my daughter, since we are studying mammals.
Now, my youngest, who will be two in November, was in full potty training mode, refusing to wear diapers and such. I’d been indulging her for a couple of days and putting her in big-girl pants. She had been making it to the potty for the most part. I didn't use this video to train her:
As we approached the park, she started to yell “pee pee” while still in her car seat, so I told her we were almost there and to hold it. After we parked, I got all three kids out of their car seats (yes, even my 6-year-old) and we headed for the bathrooms. The older two were walking like snails, grabbing sticks and so on as children do, so I said, “Please hurry up or she’s gonna pee on my shirt.” My oldest said, “Mommy, you always pack us extra clothes, but you never pack any for yourself. Maybe you should.” “Good idea,” I said, but I’d never really needed one before, so I wasn’t really planning to follow through. (I did think it was a good idea, though).
Fast forward two hours and 10 trips to the bathroom made every time the one-who-is-now-fascinated-with-all-things-toilet-related yells “PEE PEE!” Mothers with 3-year-olds in pull-ups looked on with envy. I was a little proud, even though I had nothing to do with the early urge to potty train.
Well, somewhere between bounce house and birthday cake, I swooped my little one up for some reason (no idea) and plopped her on my hip, as usual, when yucky, hot, runny something landed upon my waist. I didn’t even have to look. I didn’t even want to know. I asked another mom to keep an eye on the older two and headed to the bathroom, pooh all over my hand and under my fingernails.
Too bad my eldest hadn’t had her little premonition about me needing a change of clothes, oh say, a day earlier. Poop was everywhere. Lots of it. Everywhere. I never understand how such little people can produce so much poop.
So, there I was, topless(and getting the top off without getting crap in my hair was no small endeavor) in a Los Angeles public bathroom with my naked baby, both of us covered in a river of crap. Literally. Luckily, I had clothes for her. I, on the other hand, had to wash my shirt out in the sink, during which time a nanny type came in with a baby. She initially looked at me stark-eyed like I was a homeless woman getting ready for the day, but then seemed to realize what happened.
Anyway, I could go on with all the gruesome details, but let’s suffice it to say that I’m glad it was warm out as I went back out to the gathering in my wet t-shirt and let’s all thank God it wasn’t white, or I would have been trapped in the bathroom for a while.
I have been shat upon before, but that was a pooh-athon to beat all pooh-athons.
Friday, October 31, 2008
Wednesday, October 29, 2008
Well, it’s time to get back to blogging. I can attribute my lack of blogging lately to two key things:
1. A slight (okay, slightly more than slight) Facebook addiction
2. My stat counter. It shows what keywords get people here and last month, one pervert found me by searching keywords that I will not repeat here (don’t need more perverts ending up here). Go away, Sicko!!!
Let’s start with a little Sarah Palin, because I just can’t get enough of her. This one’s worth watching.
On a personal note, life has been colorful, eventful and downright violent this week. First, the brain surgeon had a near-fistfight with someone who wanted to discipline our 3-year-old son for hitting his daughter. I have to admire my beloved’s restraint in the situation. I wasn’t there, but from what all of the bystanders said, the man deserved to get slugged.
It did bring up the question: When is it appropriate to discipline someone else’s child? My gut answer to that question is “never!” but it also depends on how one defines “discipline.” I happen to be a very gentle parent (unless I’m getting my period…go away hideous hormones!) and strict parents would likely call me “permissive.”
But there is a method to my ways. I don’t believe in spanking or doing time-outs. Why? I don’t believe either are effective, nor do I believe such discipline tactics help children learn to negotiate their way around the social intricacies of the world. Rather, they foster feelings of shame and resentment.
In the aforementioned instance, this man attempted to grab my child and “discipline” him for hitting his child. I don’t believe he was intending to hurt my little boy physically, but I do believe he was going to chastise him and try to force a fake 3-year-old apology. For whatever reason, my children say “sorry” freely, despite a lack of traditional punishment and despite the fact that I don’t force them to apologize, so aggression as a means to that end was just ludicrous.
When violence occurs, I remove the child from the situation and we talk about using words and not fists (or teeth!) and we talk about how the other person would feel. We often discuss whether or not we think people will want to play with kids who use their bodies rather than words to express feelings. We take time together to calm down. Usually at this point, my children will volunteer to apologize, because, in reality, they are gentle souls who lost control of their emotions in the heat of the moment. When the heat dissipates, they feel sad about what they’ve done.
Sound familiar?
Yeah, to me, too.
To that man, I want to say: If grown men lose control of their emotions and almost get physical over my 3-year-old, I think it’s okay that my 3-year-old has not learned to control his emotions. He needs guidance, not punishment.
Luckily, I have a 6-year-old daughter who is ridiculously gentle now, despite also using her body to communicate when she was 3. It gives me confidence in our parenting choices despite the jerkface trying to do the job for us because he clearly thought wew were inept.
But on the violence and setting a good example note, I failed miserably yesterday. I punched someone in the face and split her lip open.
Yep. It’s true.
In one of the more surreal experiences of my human existence, I pulled behind a white Jeep SUV yesterday at the exit of a parking structure. There were no lines and a minimal wait. The driver of the SUV decided she was in the wrong lane and signaled for me to reverse, which I did. I then pulled into the next lane.
Apparently Jeep SUV lady didn’t like this, because she began screaming at me to move. I tried to back up again, but couldn’t, and she kept swearing at me and yelling to let her in front (by this time, we both could have easily gone). I calmly and inappropriately said, “I would if you weren’t being such a b***h.”
Well, turns out soccer mom #2 didn’t like soccer mom #1 (moi) calling her names, because she got out of her car (which I later found out had kids inside), walked around my car, reached in my front window, grabbed my ponytail and smacked me in the face.
So, I punched her in the mouth (thanks, cardio Thai boxing class!) and then somehow kicked her in the chest (I’m flexible, but did scrape my leg on the window). She walked away and called me the C word, and then kept yelling with blood covering her front teeth.
I honestly did not hit her that hard. It feels really weird that I made someone bleed.
The security guards and parking attendants at Hollywood and Highland were useless. They got on their walky talkies, but just observed her attack and called the police. They didn’t come help me during the attack. They wouldn’t let her out, however, and signaled to me to block her in, which I did until she reversed and threatened to hit my car with her car.
Then, psycho soccer mom reversed all the way through the parking lot to escape, but they caught her at the other gate.
Then it got complicated, because she claimed she just walked over to “talk” to me and that I randomly hit her. To make matters worse, she was swollen and bleeding and I was unmarked. Luckily, witnesses corroborated my story, but for a good while, I thought we were both going to jail. That would have been something to blog about!
In the end, I didn’t press battery charges. Her children would have ended up in custody, since her husband was out of town and she had no one to pick them up. She cried and said she was under a lot of stress and so on, and I figure that being held for two hours with fear of arrest likely taught her a road rage lesson.
Late last night, the brain surgeon and I were laughing about how comical the whole thing must have looked...Two soccer moms in t-shirts, leggings, tennis shoes and ponytails brawling through a minivan window.
Classic.
1. A slight (okay, slightly more than slight) Facebook addiction
2. My stat counter. It shows what keywords get people here and last month, one pervert found me by searching keywords that I will not repeat here (don’t need more perverts ending up here). Go away, Sicko!!!
Let’s start with a little Sarah Palin, because I just can’t get enough of her. This one’s worth watching.
On a personal note, life has been colorful, eventful and downright violent this week. First, the brain surgeon had a near-fistfight with someone who wanted to discipline our 3-year-old son for hitting his daughter. I have to admire my beloved’s restraint in the situation. I wasn’t there, but from what all of the bystanders said, the man deserved to get slugged.
It did bring up the question: When is it appropriate to discipline someone else’s child? My gut answer to that question is “never!” but it also depends on how one defines “discipline.” I happen to be a very gentle parent (unless I’m getting my period…go away hideous hormones!) and strict parents would likely call me “permissive.”
But there is a method to my ways. I don’t believe in spanking or doing time-outs. Why? I don’t believe either are effective, nor do I believe such discipline tactics help children learn to negotiate their way around the social intricacies of the world. Rather, they foster feelings of shame and resentment.
In the aforementioned instance, this man attempted to grab my child and “discipline” him for hitting his child. I don’t believe he was intending to hurt my little boy physically, but I do believe he was going to chastise him and try to force a fake 3-year-old apology. For whatever reason, my children say “sorry” freely, despite a lack of traditional punishment and despite the fact that I don’t force them to apologize, so aggression as a means to that end was just ludicrous.
When violence occurs, I remove the child from the situation and we talk about using words and not fists (or teeth!) and we talk about how the other person would feel. We often discuss whether or not we think people will want to play with kids who use their bodies rather than words to express feelings. We take time together to calm down. Usually at this point, my children will volunteer to apologize, because, in reality, they are gentle souls who lost control of their emotions in the heat of the moment. When the heat dissipates, they feel sad about what they’ve done.
Sound familiar?
Yeah, to me, too.
To that man, I want to say: If grown men lose control of their emotions and almost get physical over my 3-year-old, I think it’s okay that my 3-year-old has not learned to control his emotions. He needs guidance, not punishment.
Luckily, I have a 6-year-old daughter who is ridiculously gentle now, despite also using her body to communicate when she was 3. It gives me confidence in our parenting choices despite the jerkface trying to do the job for us because he clearly thought wew were inept.
But on the violence and setting a good example note, I failed miserably yesterday. I punched someone in the face and split her lip open.
Yep. It’s true.
In one of the more surreal experiences of my human existence, I pulled behind a white Jeep SUV yesterday at the exit of a parking structure. There were no lines and a minimal wait. The driver of the SUV decided she was in the wrong lane and signaled for me to reverse, which I did. I then pulled into the next lane.
Apparently Jeep SUV lady didn’t like this, because she began screaming at me to move. I tried to back up again, but couldn’t, and she kept swearing at me and yelling to let her in front (by this time, we both could have easily gone). I calmly and inappropriately said, “I would if you weren’t being such a b***h.”
Well, turns out soccer mom #2 didn’t like soccer mom #1 (moi) calling her names, because she got out of her car (which I later found out had kids inside), walked around my car, reached in my front window, grabbed my ponytail and smacked me in the face.
So, I punched her in the mouth (thanks, cardio Thai boxing class!) and then somehow kicked her in the chest (I’m flexible, but did scrape my leg on the window). She walked away and called me the C word, and then kept yelling with blood covering her front teeth.
I honestly did not hit her that hard. It feels really weird that I made someone bleed.
The security guards and parking attendants at Hollywood and Highland were useless. They got on their walky talkies, but just observed her attack and called the police. They didn’t come help me during the attack. They wouldn’t let her out, however, and signaled to me to block her in, which I did until she reversed and threatened to hit my car with her car.
Then, psycho soccer mom reversed all the way through the parking lot to escape, but they caught her at the other gate.
Then it got complicated, because she claimed she just walked over to “talk” to me and that I randomly hit her. To make matters worse, she was swollen and bleeding and I was unmarked. Luckily, witnesses corroborated my story, but for a good while, I thought we were both going to jail. That would have been something to blog about!
In the end, I didn’t press battery charges. Her children would have ended up in custody, since her husband was out of town and she had no one to pick them up. She cried and said she was under a lot of stress and so on, and I figure that being held for two hours with fear of arrest likely taught her a road rage lesson.
Late last night, the brain surgeon and I were laughing about how comical the whole thing must have looked...Two soccer moms in t-shirts, leggings, tennis shoes and ponytails brawling through a minivan window.
Classic.
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