June 2009

Lord help me, I need more sleep. As we were getting the wee child ready for bed tonight, she protested loudly as per her latest norm. My husband, being the kind, albeit somewhat naive, soul that he is suggested that sleeping would bring her to that much closer to ANOTHER! FUN! DAY! And I, being the sarcastic grouch that I am, and still reflecting on a long day full of telephone calls and toddler wrangling, said, and I quote:

“Yeah, another FUN day of mommy answering the F-H-O-N-E.”

We spell things out a lot around here these days. My husband gave pause, looked at me and said, “Answering the what?”

“The F-H-O-N-E. DUH. What the hell is your problem? Quit looking at me like that.”

Another knowing look. “Ummm….”

“F-H-O…Oh shit….Huh…Why did I leave the H in there?”

Clearly my Master’s degree in English was summarily wiped out the moment I gave birth and quit, you know, sleeping.

© 2009, OneShoeOff. All rights reserved.

In a moment that I can only attribute to channeling my mother yesterday, I told my daughter that if she didn’t clean up her toys, I was going to throw them away or give them to needy kids who appreciated them. Um, yeah. She’s only 2 1/2, and it wasn’t my finest moment, but it’s one of those idle threats that my mom used to shoot off when I didn’t tidy up after myself (although in my mother’s case, it may not have been so idle). When I later told the husband what had happened, he looked at me like I had just announced that I wanted to go bathe in raw sewage. I said “Oh, c’mon, you know that standard parental threat! Didn’t your mom ever say that to you?!” His response, “Um, no. Never.” Aside from being a perfect explanation of the differences between my type-a anal retention and his blase attitude about everything, it raised a debate. IS that a standard parental threat? In my household, it most definitely was, but now I’m wondering if my parents were the exception rather than the norm. I’ve got that Chinese mother thing going on that ups the intensity factor of childhood, so maybe that’s where it came from. Did your parents threaten you with getting rid of whatever you didn’t clean up? Did it make you more neat or less so? And what other kinds of parental threats do you remember? Ah, nostalgia.

© 2009, OneShoeOff. All rights reserved.

I never thought having a toddler would be so funny.  A few excerpts from recent conversations:

While riding over hills on our way to Amish country:

C: There’s roller-coasters in my belly!

Me: There are?

C: Yes!   There’s also rabbits in my belly!

Me: Rabbits?

C: Yes, and a mouse in my finger!

Me: …

—

Poppop (my dad) using a puppet (Green Frog) from my childhood to do a show for Charlotte.  Green Frog was talking to C., and C. was talking to Green Frog, not Poppop.

Green Frog: Oh, you like to go swimming?  I like to swim, too.  Can I go swimming with you?  (Or something to this effect).

C: No. You can’t.  You’re just a toy.

—

Me: C, your diaper leaked a little bit last night.  Your jammies are a bit wet.

C: Leaked?

Me: Yep, just a little.

C: Like the refrigerator leaked? (Our fridge was leaking a few weeks ago)

Me: Yes, just like the refrigerator leaked.  Less wet, though.

© 2009, OneShoeOff. All rights reserved.