As part of the application process to enter our son into kindergarten at a highly recommended Catholic school two towns over, our family was to meet the headmaster priest for an interview. We came during a busy time of the school year, apparently, because the parking lot was completely full. My husband decided to drop our 5-year-old son and me off near the door while he found a parking spot across the street. We were running a bit late, so my son and I at least getting to the priest on time seemed like a good idea.
We had already been talking with the priest for a few minutes when my husband arrived. I thought things had been going well for us, and that my son was a shoe in for kindergarten entrance. We were a family who had it all together, after all. Until I noticed that my husband was empty handed. Read the rest of this entry
I was never very good at taking care of pets as a kid. Apparently that’s not a skill I’ve gained with age, either.
First we had a hamster that escaped from its cage frequently. On one occasion, when he seemed gone to the point of no return, I threw out his cage. Sure enough, a few days later I heard my husband yelling, “Aaah! Something’s on me!” Read the rest of this entry
One morning, on the way to go shopping, Daddy bought Martial a bicycle helmet at a garage sale.
Martial liked the helmet, especially when he wore it backwards. He decided to wear the helmet everywhere he went… all day long.
At the first store, a lady saw Martial smacking himself hard on the head. (That’s what helmets are for.) She asked Daddy, “Is your son alright?” Read the rest of this entry
My family and I were out walking one day when we came across a dog. As always happens in these situations, our 16-month-old daughter squealed excitedly and ran to the dog. The dog’s owners, as per usual, were more than happy to oblige our cute, insistent toddler. On this particular day, our daughter had a runny nose. I could tell it was runny because when the dog inevitably licked her face, he pulled away with, well, snot, on his tongue. I was, naturally, aghast, and the logical thing to do would have been to say, “Ew, gross,” and pull my daughter away from the dog. The licking happened several times in rapid succession before I could formulate this proper and obvious reaction. But instead, I looked at the owner, who seemed completely unconcerned and simply commented, “He’s cleaning you up there, isn’t he?” My “Ew, gross!” melted into flashbacks of me trying to wipe my daughter’s nose during the previous cold season. The task was a two-man job requiring the help of my husband: he would hold her arms down and pin her head in a vice grip between his chest and elbow while I attempted to wipe her nose with the softest tissue on the planet. (I believe it was made by NASA.) You would think this would be a successful strategy, but even then the little dickens could flap, scream, and flail her way out of it, choosing instead to wipe her nose with the back of her hands, which she would then rub all over her face and hair. Coming back to the present and watching that dog complete his task of “cleaning” my daughter, to her apparent enjoyment, I shrugged, “I guess it’s okay,” thus earning myself the un-coveted Mother of the Year Award.
My hungry toddler climbed into her high chair, grabbed a ziplock bag of cereal off the counter, tore a hole in it with her teeth, then proceeded to eat. It’s that kind of self-serving ingenuity that makes my job as a dead-beat mom that much easier. Way to go, kid!
My son was a biter. He was so excited about this new-found ability that came with having teeth, he couldn’t help but gnaw on everything in sight. One day when I had dozed off on the couch, he awakened me by sinking his pearly whites into the flesh of my arm. I screamed and jumped so high, that if I had been a cartoon, I would have been hanging from the ceiling by my finger and toe nails. As it was, my immediate reaction was retaliation. I grabbed his arm and bit him right back, as hard as I could. It was awful. He cried and cried, and I felt horrible. I know it was definitely not the right thing to do. But, on the upside, he never bit a living thing again! Isabel, mother of 1