My son is a quiet and sweet little boy. Not your typical boy’s boy. He doesn’t loudly play with trucks. He does not run and jump and knock things over. He does not hit, bite, scream nor throw things. He plays with dinosaurs. He wants to be a paleontologist. He loves to give hugs and make peace. He loves to say goodbye to his Mommy in the mornings…and this is what is going to get him killed one day.
Out of my three kids, he is the early riser. I have visions of one day sleeping past 6:30am, but for now it is just a pipe dream. We still have baby monitors in the kids room (even though the “baby” is three-years-old). I can hear them sleeping peacefully and breathing softly (or as in the case of my oldest – mouth-breathing like Darth Vader). I can hear the cats padding softly though the house. And yet, somehow, my son was able to get out of bed, go to the bathroom and creep upstairs. I’m awakened at 4:00am by my son jumping up on the side of my bed screaming, “SURPRISE!”
I’m high strung, slightly paranoid, and mainly out of reflex of years of torture at the hands of my four brothers, I swing first and ask questions later. I almost knocked this kid in the face! As I fully came-to, I explained sweetly that he must not do this to Mommy…instead, if he feels the need to shout SURPRISE! At unsuspecting adults in the midst of nightly slumber – he should do this on Daddy’s side of the bed. Quite possibly, my husband would even sleep through this, and while I’d wake…the collateral damage would be minimized.
A few mornings ago, I was up and taking my belongings out to my car at 6:15am. I left the porch door ajar. I slinked back through the opening. I GASPED! I almost bashed the door (on purpose) into my son’s face. Here, this sweet little guy just wanted to hug Mommy good-bye; and is standing ram-rod straight behind the partially opened door in our pitch black dining room. His presence was given away by the whites of his eyes.
“Jesus, kid! That’s creepy! You can’t do that. [I start to think to myself that I need to tone down my reaction b/c he’s going to cry soon]. Give Mommy a hug… [I hear my husband in the shower already]. Now, go upstairs and tell Daddy that you’re awake.”
At this point, I have visions of Captain Stealth tiptoeing upstairs and standing mute outside of the shower curtain. I giggle for a moment as I imagine my husband flinging back the shower curtain to have his wits scared out of him as our oddly awake son just stands there staring at him. At this point, he jumps in terrified horror and slips in the shower, breaking his head open… “And make sure you tell Daddy you’re there!” I shoo him upstairs.
I grab my coffee and as I stroll out to my car, I take a moment to think of how cute he is…and how one day I’m either going to accidentally pop him one out of a fight or flight sense of self-defense, or I’m going to die of shock. Who said children should be seen & not heard?!?
Friday, February 3, 2012
Thursday, January 26, 2012
Let It Snow, Let It Snow...
Typically this time of year I find myself cursing snow. This year is no exception, but I find my curses are much louder and for completely different reasons!
Normally, I hate how we are dumped on with Lake Effect snow belts and the natives to this frozen tundra seem to forget where they live six months of the year – preferring to believe they live in a warm & balmy state that does not get oodles of the white stuff. Or, so their driving would imply. Come on people, you drove in this crap last year! You should know better than to mash on your brakes on a bridge – it’s frozen, and you ARE going to slide. Seriously, are you tailgating me in this near white out? You should know, I have a manual transmission and I love to screw with people like you who violate my personal space…by jamming my Rugged Jeep down a gear to slow suddenly without ever touching my brake. I’m sure my spare tire will look lovely mounted/embedded in your hood.
Instead this month, I look around to the amazingly dreary place I call home. There is no snow to cover the fact that trees just look sickly this time of year. The soggy mud laden ground is not a wintery wonder to behold and lastly, there is NOTHING preventing my allergies from acting up. Yes. That godforsaken snow limits my misery for a few months out of the year due to nasal allergies. Instead, the blustery cold winds are whipping up some sort of unknown spore or pollen or random pieces of smoot that I am horribly allergic to. Are you kidding me? This is my payment for wishing for no snow?
Yesterday morning I woke up resembling Eric Stoltz from Mask. Well, either him or the Elephant Man. You can take your pick. In any case, I look like I had taken about six bee stings to the eye. It was nearly swollen shut. I had trouble breathing. My kids screamed and ran away from me in horror. Hell, I may have the greatest idea in biological warfare. Crop dust the enemy with the pollen of whatever, to the point of no escape and watch as they blow their noses, dry their watery itchy eyes, cough in dry throated terror and wallow in the depths of self pity; all the while wondering, “Where can I get something to treat this crap?!?!”
So far today, I’ve washed down two Benadryl, a Zyrtec, some Nasonex, 3 Extra Strength Tylenol with a steaming hot cup of detox tea. The swelling in my face is finally starting to subside, and I’ve been graced enough to be able to utter more than the feeble, “Mmmmfshs shhhfb,” this morning to the Nanny as I stumbled out the door for work. The side effects though have ranged from a slight twitchiness to the shakes and some random Tourrettes thrown in (yes, I’m talking about the loudly shouted swear word kind…)
Dear Mother Nature – I changed my mind…I’d like the snow back. And while you’re at it…[insert another Tourettes outbreak here]!
Normally, I hate how we are dumped on with Lake Effect snow belts and the natives to this frozen tundra seem to forget where they live six months of the year – preferring to believe they live in a warm & balmy state that does not get oodles of the white stuff. Or, so their driving would imply. Come on people, you drove in this crap last year! You should know better than to mash on your brakes on a bridge – it’s frozen, and you ARE going to slide. Seriously, are you tailgating me in this near white out? You should know, I have a manual transmission and I love to screw with people like you who violate my personal space…by jamming my Rugged Jeep down a gear to slow suddenly without ever touching my brake. I’m sure my spare tire will look lovely mounted/embedded in your hood.
Instead this month, I look around to the amazingly dreary place I call home. There is no snow to cover the fact that trees just look sickly this time of year. The soggy mud laden ground is not a wintery wonder to behold and lastly, there is NOTHING preventing my allergies from acting up. Yes. That godforsaken snow limits my misery for a few months out of the year due to nasal allergies. Instead, the blustery cold winds are whipping up some sort of unknown spore or pollen or random pieces of smoot that I am horribly allergic to. Are you kidding me? This is my payment for wishing for no snow?
Yesterday morning I woke up resembling Eric Stoltz from Mask. Well, either him or the Elephant Man. You can take your pick. In any case, I look like I had taken about six bee stings to the eye. It was nearly swollen shut. I had trouble breathing. My kids screamed and ran away from me in horror. Hell, I may have the greatest idea in biological warfare. Crop dust the enemy with the pollen of whatever, to the point of no escape and watch as they blow their noses, dry their watery itchy eyes, cough in dry throated terror and wallow in the depths of self pity; all the while wondering, “Where can I get something to treat this crap?!?!”
So far today, I’ve washed down two Benadryl, a Zyrtec, some Nasonex, 3 Extra Strength Tylenol with a steaming hot cup of detox tea. The swelling in my face is finally starting to subside, and I’ve been graced enough to be able to utter more than the feeble, “Mmmmfshs shhhfb,” this morning to the Nanny as I stumbled out the door for work. The side effects though have ranged from a slight twitchiness to the shakes and some random Tourrettes thrown in (yes, I’m talking about the loudly shouted swear word kind…)
Dear Mother Nature – I changed my mind…I’d like the snow back. And while you’re at it…[insert another Tourettes outbreak here]!
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