Tuesday, June 22, 2010

Run, run from this house as fast as you can....

these are the words I spoke to my husband on the phone. You see, there is a little something called hand, foot and mouth virus. It's pretty much this disgusting blistery virus that kids get on..yep, you guessed it...their hands, their feet and in their mouth. There is no medicine to make it go away. And, oh...did I mention that it's hella contagious. Super. Cause I have 2 babies that my 3 year old loves to kiss and touch and generally invade their personal space.

Keep him away from them, you might be suggesting. Sure. I can do that now. But what about the past 3 days when he was likely contagious too. I can't turn back time ya know.
So, I'm inspecting the girls to see if they have any blisters, and what do I happen upon? Nope, not blisters. Instead I see what looks suspiciously like thrush in Emma's mouth. Are you kidding me!?! Now this could be the start of HFM for her, but it could also really be thrush. I gave her antibiotics for the thrush just in case.

So my day so far has been trying to keep Connor in some sort of quarantine, trying to keep Emma from sucking on any part of Briar - cause she likes to do that as you can see:

oh and dealing with a toilet that won't flush, but this fact was only discovered after Connor had used said toilet for not #1, but yep, #2. Awesome.

I'm earning my glass of wine today :-)

Friday, June 4, 2010

Oh the things a 3 year old will do.....

3 year olds are funny. Especially my 3 year old. He's smart (and smart mouthed), he's cute and hilarious and does the weirdest things.


Take for example, the "hickeystash" incident. I was busy feeding babies, changing diapers, cleaning up massive amounts of spit-up that seem to be never-ending from my dear Emma Belle, and wasn't paying the very close attention that is needed when you have a sweet (God Bless him) 3 year old. You see, my son had found a baby bottle lid and was amazed at his talent of being able to keep it attached to his face with the sheer force of sucking his breath in. Combine this wonderful talent with a few "uh huh's" and "mmmmm's" from me (I think I might even had thrown in a "that's great") and we have the "hickeystash". By the time I realized what was happening...it was too late. There, in all it's glory was a purple ring around my son's mouth. Only you couldn't really see the bottom so it looked like a terrible purple mustache. I was mortified. You see, I hate to admit it, but from time to time, "I phone it in" as a mom. There have been times where I've "uh huh'd" and "mmmm'd" my way into things like adding too many bubbles to a bath, or agreeing to let my son have ice cream for breakfast. Mostly when I'm sleep deprived. But this time, well...this time my "phoning it in" wouldn't be something that goes unspoken in the privacy of our house, nope...this time it would be obvious to all the world. Yep, this was not my proudest mom moment:



At least he looks handsome with a mustache :-)


And since this post is about my 3 year old, I thought I would also mention this little gem.......


So Connor has developed a fear of the dark at bedtime. Perfectly normal for his age. He thinks there are monsters in his room. Normally I can check for the monsters, assure him that they are not there, and off to sleep he goes. Well the other night, that simply was not doing the trick. So my husband had the idea to let our Golden Retriever, Tucker, sleep in Connor's room to "protect him from the monsters". Cause what monsters wouldn't be scared of this guy:




Anyway, Tucker happily goes off to bed with Connor and both drifted off to dreamland peacefully. Awesome. No drama, woo hoo. Except. Yep, it didn't last. You see, we always check on Connor just before we go to bed. So we open the door and see that Connor is asleep, but in the process we wake up Tucker and he just won't settle down. So we make the decision to bring Tucker into our room. Connor's already asleep so he won't know the difference. Right? Um, no. That would be wrong. Connor wakes up about 15 minutes later screaming bloody murder. I rush into his room expecting broken bones from falling out of the bed or possibly vomit from head to toe...as I enter his room, I see...nothing out of the ordinary. What the heck? I ask him what's wrong, and he tells me "Tucker's gone! The monsters got him! He was here to protect me and they ate him!!!!".

Um, yeah. We're like the best parents ever. Because instead of calming our son's fears about monsters at night, we essentially confirmed (in his mind) that there were indeed monsters and mommy and daddy decided to offer them up a little sacrifice.
So, that night we had the dog and the child in our room. And poor Connor cried all night. Because even when we explained to him that Tucker was fine and showed him that damn dog a million times, the damage had been done - we had successfully traumatized our 3 year old.

Like I said....Best. Parents. Ever.

Till next time.......