It’s time again for Mommy and Me Monday. Pop out from behind that camera and capture yourself in action with your kids. Check out the inaugural Mommy and Me Monday for more information.
After dinner, you can pretty much guarantee that Isabelle will ask for a treat. She went for a blue lollipop.
As she started eating it, she wanted to know what color her tongue was and kept sticking it out to see it. She even went into the bathroom to see how blue it was.
Her lollipop looked so good I wanted to have one, too. So I did.
And, then Isabelle looked right over at daddy and said “Daddy, you need to get the camera and take a picture of me and mommy with our blue tongues!”
And, so, he did.
Aren’t we cute?
Yeah, I thought so, too.
(I don’t know what is going on with my shirt/bra strap…you’ll have to just excuse that.)
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**There really is only one requirement here, a picture of you and your baby or babies; your children, your “baby” (ie significant other) or even your fur babies. If your picture doesn’t feature you (meaning you must be in the picture), I will have to delete your link. It’s not fair to the others that follow the rules.**
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Lately when we go to church, instead of going to her Sunday School room, Izzy wants to go with us to sing in the “Visionary” aka Sanctuary. She enjoys singing with us as well and the church members. She also enjoys staying for the Children’s Moment (where they all sit at the front of the church with the pastor and get a miniature, kid friendly sermon).
If you haven’t been to a Children’s Moment, it has the potential to be quite amusing. A large bunch of kids, and one adult asking questions. You can imagine.
This Sunday, Mother’s Day of all days, Isabelle was super excited. She ran up to the front and sat right next to Ms. Susan*
Ms. Susan started her lesson with a bird’s nest and started talking about all of the work the mommy bird did to make the next to take care of her babies. It was then that Izzy made a noise. I don’t remember what, but an “oh” or something like that.
It was right then that Mr. Serious and I looked at each other. “Izzy’s mic’d.” Oh, no. Please don’t say or do anything embarrassing. Dear God, everybody in the church is watching.
Ms. Susan asked the kids what their mommies to do show them that they love them.
“When I throw up…”
Oh, no. I’m stunned, and laughing. Tears are welling up in my eyes. She went there, didn’t she? Everybody is looking our direction and giving us a look. The one that is sympathetic yet appreciative that it’s not their kid.
Ms. Susan is looking intently at Izzy, giving her the “finish your thoughts look.”
“Ummm…..a…ummmm….ummmmmm”
“It’s okay, honey, what does your mommy do?”
“Um. She takes me to the bathroom, and puts me in the bathtub and washes me off,” so matter-of-factly. With perfect inflections in her voice. Like, how did you not know what my mommy does when I throw up?
“Yes, dear, that’s an excellent example of your mommy showing you how she loves you. She cleans you up and takes care of you when you are sick.”
And, then the sermon was pretty much over, and Izzy ran over to me and gave me a kiss on the cheek and when off to Sunday School.
*name changed to protect the innocent
Being on the budget, our clothes have definitely seen better days. In fact, I’ve shown you my “chemist jeans.”
So the other morning, when I was ready to walk out the door with the girls to go to work, my sweet baby girl caught my attention. Her face was a little too red and her eyes a little too watery. I knew what that meant.
I wrangled her upstairs to quickly change her diaper. Anybody that has or had an 18 month old knows what an ordeal that can be. Especially about 15 minutes after the last diaper change.
So, I was trying to entertain her and distract her. She wasn’t having it. She got upset about my entertaining, which means it wasn’t so entertaining, and kicked or threw something on the floor.
I finished her up, got her dressed, picked her up and bent over to pick up said item off the floor. As I was bending, I heard a giant “rrriiippp” noise (no, not that kind of noise).
For a brief second, I thought I would ignore it.
Thank goodness I didn’t. I had the sense to walk into the girls bathroom.
I walked in, turned around and looked in the mirror.
And saw my stripy undies looking right back at me. With the length of one back pocket entirely ripped down, a full cheek’s width exposed. (Let me add here that it wasn’t because these jeans were too small; in fact, they were quite loose and warn thin. Apparently, really thin.)
That’s when I decided that I’ve never been more thankful for a poopy diaper.
Why? Guaranteed, I would have bent over at work approximately 1 hour later.
In front of 32 teenagers.
Who would have seen everything.
Including my blue stripy undies.
Thank you sweetheart for pooping that morning.
Thank you.
Today our photocopier broke.
That happens at least once a day.
While I was waiting for it to cool down, I took some of the bad copies it made and threw them in the shredder.
What? You don’t do silly, kid-like things when you are frustrated.
So, as I’m standing there listening to the paper being made into little strips, I notice the pictures underneath the slot. I guess these are supposed to be universal directions as there aren’t words, just pictures (sort of like putting Ikea furniture together)…I digress.
See, little directions, or maybe warnings.
As I’m standing there, I look away, and then my brain registers what I just saw on the end.
Look again.
Second to the last?
No babies without clothes but in diapers should go into the shredder?
Does that mean clothed babies are okay? Well, I guess as long as they don’t have on gloves, a tie or a ponytail in, they are okay (at least according to the pictures).
You know the sad thing is that somebody likely did that first**, before they added the warning. Because who seriously thinks to put a picture of baby as a “no” for a paper shredder?
*crappy pictures taken with my crappy cell phone.
** ETA: I think and hope that this label is really a poor choice for something that means kids shouldn’t use it, and certainly doesn’t mean that they think people would put a baby in a paper shredder…because that isn’t funny and ruins the humorous spirit of my post.
Lately, when Iz starts whining and throwing a fit, I remind her that babies do that because they can’t talk. She can use words and communicate.
If she continues, I remind her that babies sleep in cribs. I threaten her with putting her in a crib like her sister.
Crap.
Apparently, she doesn’t think cribs are bad.
“What’s the big deal? So what if I climbed in here with my sister?”
{This particular morning, Izzy heard Nat awake and walked into her room. By the time we got in there, she had climbed in. I have no idea how she did it, and to be honest, I really don’t want to know. I hope her sister wasn’t watching, though.}
