If you are the parent of a toddler, there may be some important questions that you have been asking yourself lately- though if you dig deep enough you may find that you already know the answers to them:
Where are all of the refrigerator magnets?
Under the fridge of course, fulfilling their actual intended function of attracting dust bunnies.
Do farts have mommies? It is possible to categorize farts into mommies and babies? And if so, do they miss each other? Does the baby fart cry for its mommy fart?
Yes. The answer is yes.
Why do I seem to be in the kitchen all the time?
Because your toddler keeps asking for noodles- breakfast lunch and dinner, but you are supposed to rotate types of noodles.
“No, not these noodles.”
"But these are the ones I made."
“I can’t have these noodles. It's dangerous”
"..."
Do I really sound like that?
Yes. You absolutely do. Your mini play-back recorder has a flawless representation of you. Scary?
Will she ever stop peeing in the bed?
Yes.
Will it be soon?
No.
I’m starting to forget the times I actually took quiet hot relaxing baths- was that really real?
Yes. Hold on to that happy place for as long as you can. It will come again someday, and until then, the hope shall get you through the tepid bubble-wrought splash-fests of today.
Are my eardrums still intact?
For now. That awaits to be seen for sure in about 50 years….
Will I ever get more than 6 inches of bed to sleep on?
Yes, but for now, it’s payback time. Remember you used to be the bed hog.
Why does my toddler have more pairs of shoes than I do?
Some things in life are just not fair…
When she 'wakes up' after we've been laying in bed for 45 minutes and says, "Get up, I'm hungry." Do I have to?
Yes. Duty calls, and you are a bad mommy if you ignore it. Or at least that's how I justify getting up to make noodles that will not be eaten but used as lotion on tiny arms at 11:00 at night.
At least I tried.
Happy noodling,
~Momrit
Tuesday, November 18, 2014
Friday, August 15, 2014
Going Solo
My grandmother called while I was getting ready to go to the movies- I said I couldn't talk for too long because I was going to the movies by myself.
"Oh, why are you going alone?" She asked in a sympathetic voice.
"No no- It's a good thing!" I said fervently. She didn't want to keep me from my showing so we said goodbye and I headed out the door.
"Okay sweetie, are you gonna be a good girl for papa? Do you need to go pee pee?"
"No." Came the sweet reply. I wondered which question she was answering.
"Sweetheart, if you're going, just go or you'll be late." My husband said from behind the computer.
I couldn't help but feel giddy as I walked out the door carrying only my purse (less than 10lbs) and my car keys. Three pairs of emergency undies, one wet-bag, two pairs of emergency pants, one emergency shirt, sunscreen for the odd occasion, snacks, wipes, toys, comb, extra hair-ties, water bottle, juice pack and extra pair of shoes just seem like the bare necessities these days, so I had a bit of a naked feeling also as I got into the car and started the engine. With an empty car seat, no babbling, screaming, pointing out of random things, and certainly no odor of freshly opened crackers, I was on my way to the Thursday matinee. I'll admit- I actually giggled to myself in the car. I'm a staunch advocate of Attachment Parenting, yet I do wonder when the phase of "bye-mom!" really swings into effect.
I parked the car and walked in like a normal human- not having to lug a foot dragging toddler or play "I'm going to go limp and hang on your hand in the parking lot".
I bought my single ticket and walked right past the concessions- I did have my grapes in my Elmo tupperware after all.
I was the first in the empty theatre, apparently with lots of time to spare. I walked to the middle row and sat down, appraising the view. I changed my mind unselfconsciously and decided to try a different row. Up two stairs and right in the center I plopped down and waited. It was so quiet, I could actually notice myself breathing. I was in awe that I had absolutely no reason to run up and down the stairs or to the bathroom 16 times. At first I just read the small town advertisements that silently flicked across the screen. Once they began to repeat, I tried to just relax and do nothing. I thought to myself, it's actually tranquil enough to really have a chance to meditate. I closed my eyes and wondered at the silence. It made me sleepy. I guess I'm hard wired now to sleep when the noise stops. When I opened my eyes, I noted the admonishing ad on the screen: "Babies are cute... But if yours is crying please leave the theatre."
Fair enough I suppose- they aren't banning babies, just telling parents that there's no point in trying to go to the movies because they'll spend 45% of The Hobbit in the hallway bouncing and shushing. If by miraculous chance you do get your baby to sleep, it will most likely be twenty minutes before the movie ends and then you'll have to move and that starts the whole thing over again.
Another sole patron of the 4:35 matinee enters the theatre which shifts my attention back from mom-thoughts. I watch quietly as he chooses a seat, sits, then gets up to find a "better" one just as I had done.
It seemed to me that one should instigate small talk in this sort of situation, two people in an empty theatre waiting for the film to roll, but something held me back from polluting the beautiful silence.
The minutes dragged on and I was silently thanking not having to entertain anyone but myself.
When I could bear it no longer, I asked the other patron for the time, as it seemed later than it should. Seconds later the previews began, and I awkwardly muttered something to the effect of, "...just when I was starting to wonder." Silence greeted me from the other row and I ruled out any further comments. Nothing worse than going to a movie alone only to be bombarded by a Chatty Cathy.
About halfway through the action packed "Guardians of the Galaxy", I found myself wondering what my hubby and daughter were doing without me at home. Was she crying? Did she pee her pants? Are they having a tea-party or watching Daniel Tiger's Neighborhood?
I must say that I enjoyed the film and also my "me time", but the minute the credits began to roll I hopped up out of my seat and briskly walked out of the theatre to my car. As I drove the short trip home, I wondered how I would be greeted at the door. I certainly didn't expect what came.
I turned the key in the lock and walked through the door, expecting to hear a "Mommy!!" but instead got a big "BOO!!" from behind the door.
AH yes, favorite pass-time of the marital lifestyle- scaring your spouse when they least expect it. They were both rewarded with my brief shout and slight jump. Ha.Ha. Teaching the next generation the important things in life- like being able to give your mom a mild heart-rate increase.
All in all, mission success hopefully to be repeated soon.
"Oh, why are you going alone?" She asked in a sympathetic voice.
"No no- It's a good thing!" I said fervently. She didn't want to keep me from my showing so we said goodbye and I headed out the door.
"Okay sweetie, are you gonna be a good girl for papa? Do you need to go pee pee?"
"No." Came the sweet reply. I wondered which question she was answering.
"Sweetheart, if you're going, just go or you'll be late." My husband said from behind the computer.
I couldn't help but feel giddy as I walked out the door carrying only my purse (less than 10lbs) and my car keys. Three pairs of emergency undies, one wet-bag, two pairs of emergency pants, one emergency shirt, sunscreen for the odd occasion, snacks, wipes, toys, comb, extra hair-ties, water bottle, juice pack and extra pair of shoes just seem like the bare necessities these days, so I had a bit of a naked feeling also as I got into the car and started the engine. With an empty car seat, no babbling, screaming, pointing out of random things, and certainly no odor of freshly opened crackers, I was on my way to the Thursday matinee. I'll admit- I actually giggled to myself in the car. I'm a staunch advocate of Attachment Parenting, yet I do wonder when the phase of "bye-mom!" really swings into effect.
I parked the car and walked in like a normal human- not having to lug a foot dragging toddler or play "I'm going to go limp and hang on your hand in the parking lot".
I bought my single ticket and walked right past the concessions- I did have my grapes in my Elmo tupperware after all.
I was the first in the empty theatre, apparently with lots of time to spare. I walked to the middle row and sat down, appraising the view. I changed my mind unselfconsciously and decided to try a different row. Up two stairs and right in the center I plopped down and waited. It was so quiet, I could actually notice myself breathing. I was in awe that I had absolutely no reason to run up and down the stairs or to the bathroom 16 times. At first I just read the small town advertisements that silently flicked across the screen. Once they began to repeat, I tried to just relax and do nothing. I thought to myself, it's actually tranquil enough to really have a chance to meditate. I closed my eyes and wondered at the silence. It made me sleepy. I guess I'm hard wired now to sleep when the noise stops. When I opened my eyes, I noted the admonishing ad on the screen: "Babies are cute... But if yours is crying please leave the theatre."
Fair enough I suppose- they aren't banning babies, just telling parents that there's no point in trying to go to the movies because they'll spend 45% of The Hobbit in the hallway bouncing and shushing. If by miraculous chance you do get your baby to sleep, it will most likely be twenty minutes before the movie ends and then you'll have to move and that starts the whole thing over again.
Another sole patron of the 4:35 matinee enters the theatre which shifts my attention back from mom-thoughts. I watch quietly as he chooses a seat, sits, then gets up to find a "better" one just as I had done.
It seemed to me that one should instigate small talk in this sort of situation, two people in an empty theatre waiting for the film to roll, but something held me back from polluting the beautiful silence.
The minutes dragged on and I was silently thanking not having to entertain anyone but myself.
When I could bear it no longer, I asked the other patron for the time, as it seemed later than it should. Seconds later the previews began, and I awkwardly muttered something to the effect of, "...just when I was starting to wonder." Silence greeted me from the other row and I ruled out any further comments. Nothing worse than going to a movie alone only to be bombarded by a Chatty Cathy.
About halfway through the action packed "Guardians of the Galaxy", I found myself wondering what my hubby and daughter were doing without me at home. Was she crying? Did she pee her pants? Are they having a tea-party or watching Daniel Tiger's Neighborhood?
I must say that I enjoyed the film and also my "me time", but the minute the credits began to roll I hopped up out of my seat and briskly walked out of the theatre to my car. As I drove the short trip home, I wondered how I would be greeted at the door. I certainly didn't expect what came.
I turned the key in the lock and walked through the door, expecting to hear a "Mommy!!" but instead got a big "BOO!!" from behind the door.
AH yes, favorite pass-time of the marital lifestyle- scaring your spouse when they least expect it. They were both rewarded with my brief shout and slight jump. Ha.Ha. Teaching the next generation the important things in life- like being able to give your mom a mild heart-rate increase.
All in all, mission success hopefully to be repeated soon.
Saturday, May 24, 2014
The aforementioned doughnut obsession
I haven't had a doughnut in 8 months.
These are the types of things I miss when I'm out of the country. The more I think about it, the more I want one. The things I try to avoid like the plague at home suddenly become the most craved when in a gastronomically diverse environment.
Sad really. I mean, this isn't to say that I wouldn't also love quinoa, or a good homemade salad with all my favorite fixings on it, but there's just nothing like an American doughnut. Even if it doesn't taste as good as I thought it would before I ate it. For some reason, they always seem to dissapoint, but I always want another one eventually.
Here's the catch. 8 months with no doughnut- 3 months with easy access but good self control, and 4 months with zero access and ever mounting delusions of deliciousness, ending in one month of access but putting it off to try and eat healthily, then finding out that I have Psoriasis and CAN'T EAT THEM!
N'uff said. This is silly.
Up way too late pondering doughnuts,
~Momrit
These are the types of things I miss when I'm out of the country. The more I think about it, the more I want one. The things I try to avoid like the plague at home suddenly become the most craved when in a gastronomically diverse environment.
Sad really. I mean, this isn't to say that I wouldn't also love quinoa, or a good homemade salad with all my favorite fixings on it, but there's just nothing like an American doughnut. Even if it doesn't taste as good as I thought it would before I ate it. For some reason, they always seem to dissapoint, but I always want another one eventually.
Here's the catch. 8 months with no doughnut- 3 months with easy access but good self control, and 4 months with zero access and ever mounting delusions of deliciousness, ending in one month of access but putting it off to try and eat healthily, then finding out that I have Psoriasis and CAN'T EAT THEM!
N'uff said. This is silly.
Up way too late pondering doughnuts,
A sandwich, a toddler, and a very poor decision.
First of all, I'd like to take a moment to pat myself on the back for keeping up with my lifelong tradition of abandoning any writing project I start for months at a time. Yes, good job me. I said I wouldn't with my blog, but I did it anyway. Woot.
Now that the formalities are out of the way, I will attempt to justify and excuse my absence and delinquency to writing by telling you the story of what happened shortly after I stopped writing due to apathy and a lot of outer circumstances.
Once upon a time (about 7 months ago), we took a trip to India. I brought my computer, thinking of the convenience, and how much writing I could (not) get done. It also happened to have Baby Signing Time (TM?) stored on it, which was a major plus. One fine day, a few weeks into our trip, I began to feel a craving for some good ole' American food, so I went to the newly opened Subway restaurant in the heart of Punjab (renowned for its delicious Indian cuisine) and ordered a foot long cheese sandwich. Perhaps some of you know what it is like to tire of the local fare, no matter how delicious it is. It is just something that happens after one spends enough time abroad, and it must be dealt with or it will turn into some sort of doughnut obsession (more on that coming soon). Aaannyway, I opted to bring my slice of home, home with me to covet and enjoy rapturously alone in my room and then put my daughter to sleep for her nap. I will regret that poor choice possibly for years to come.
Of course by the time I arrived back home, my dear little one was prime for her nap and as I brought her upstairs, I decided to let her watch her Signing Time whilst I indulged in my sandwich. I reasoned that another 5 to 10 minutes of wakefulness wouldn't hurt, and that I could avoid letting my sandwich get soggy while I laid with her for an hour and a half trying to get her to roll over and let me go.
So I turned on my laptop, set it on our flat topped laundry bucket (about 2.5 feet off the floor), and switched on an episode of her favorite show. I then turned my attention to satisfying my hunger and enjoying cheese sandwichy bliss- I had turned away for a mere split second, when I saw out of the corner of my eye my daughter reach for the computer. I told her not to touch the keyboard, and out of spite she slapped it and it fell- seemingly in slow motion and hit the floor on its side, still playing. I had lunged out to try and catch it but was too late. My very expensive piece of technology now lay on its side, screen twitching and displaying a worrying sequence of red lines, all the while making a clicking sound like a broken record. DOOM! DOOM! DOOOOOOOOM!!!
And all for a sandwich.
The emotions welled up like a flash flood- anger, rage, exasperation, self-loathing, despair, self-pity, incredulity, shock- I knew it was all my fault, and I could not, and did not turn my slew of moods on my child. She knew not what she had done.
I had hope- a glimmer of hope that all was not lost.
I tried closing the program. No response. I force-quit, and opened iPhoto, I perused my photographs (possibly for the last time). It seemed to do O.K. but something wasn't right. I finally had to force-quit everything, and then shut it down, for good. My hard drive had crashed. It was the end. Everything was gone- evaporated like the morning dew on a hot sunny day.
Alas, you think to yourself- all was not lost, for surely I had backed up my data onto a hard drive of some sort?
Almost. Procrastination had gotten the better of me. Let me leave it at that, for it is still a sore subject. Pictures of our daughter's first day in this world (cruel as it can be), pictures of our dog which had recently passed away, home footage of our daughter's first steps... all lost...
Kick myself? Oh, you can believe I did. After I was done wallowing in self pity and crying for half an hour. Yes. I am that much of a dork, I cried over a broken hard drive. But who wouldn't in this day and age? So much of our lives is stored digitally, we almost don't have to remember things anymore. It's a precarious path to walk.
Convenience = Eventual Devastation.
After a few days, when I was able to think rationally, my husband took me to have my computer checked out. Luckily* it was only the hard drive, and once replaced, I would be able to use my computer again. Months later, we returned from India and I was able to re-install my operating system and begin using my computer. Pictures backlogged on my phone from months of travel finally had a destination. This time, I backed everything up. The first day.
Since this whole experience befell me (through stupid moves of my own doing) I have become somewhat of an advocate for data backup, and I would like to think that I have made a difference in the lives of others (mom, dad) in saving them from a terrible, similar fate.
So, that is the long excuse, or at least part of it, for why I abandoned my blog for nearly half a year. I hope to thwart myself and keep on writing- at least for a while this time.
And the moral of the story is: Never let a tasty sandwich take priority over nap time, or the safety of your electronics. Even if you are afraid it will get soggy.
It's a tragic and expensive lesson.
Back again,
~Momrit
Now that the formalities are out of the way, I will attempt to justify and excuse my absence and delinquency to writing by telling you the story of what happened shortly after I stopped writing due to apathy and a lot of outer circumstances.
Once upon a time (about 7 months ago), we took a trip to India. I brought my computer, thinking of the convenience, and how much writing I could (not) get done. It also happened to have Baby Signing Time (TM?) stored on it, which was a major plus. One fine day, a few weeks into our trip, I began to feel a craving for some good ole' American food, so I went to the newly opened Subway restaurant in the heart of Punjab (renowned for its delicious Indian cuisine) and ordered a foot long cheese sandwich. Perhaps some of you know what it is like to tire of the local fare, no matter how delicious it is. It is just something that happens after one spends enough time abroad, and it must be dealt with or it will turn into some sort of doughnut obsession (more on that coming soon). Aaannyway, I opted to bring my slice of home, home with me to covet and enjoy rapturously alone in my room and then put my daughter to sleep for her nap. I will regret that poor choice possibly for years to come.
Of course by the time I arrived back home, my dear little one was prime for her nap and as I brought her upstairs, I decided to let her watch her Signing Time whilst I indulged in my sandwich. I reasoned that another 5 to 10 minutes of wakefulness wouldn't hurt, and that I could avoid letting my sandwich get soggy while I laid with her for an hour and a half trying to get her to roll over and let me go.
So I turned on my laptop, set it on our flat topped laundry bucket (about 2.5 feet off the floor), and switched on an episode of her favorite show. I then turned my attention to satisfying my hunger and enjoying cheese sandwichy bliss- I had turned away for a mere split second, when I saw out of the corner of my eye my daughter reach for the computer. I told her not to touch the keyboard, and out of spite she slapped it and it fell- seemingly in slow motion and hit the floor on its side, still playing. I had lunged out to try and catch it but was too late. My very expensive piece of technology now lay on its side, screen twitching and displaying a worrying sequence of red lines, all the while making a clicking sound like a broken record. DOOM! DOOM! DOOOOOOOOM!!!
And all for a sandwich.
The emotions welled up like a flash flood- anger, rage, exasperation, self-loathing, despair, self-pity, incredulity, shock- I knew it was all my fault, and I could not, and did not turn my slew of moods on my child. She knew not what she had done.
I had hope- a glimmer of hope that all was not lost.
I tried closing the program. No response. I force-quit, and opened iPhoto, I perused my photographs (possibly for the last time). It seemed to do O.K. but something wasn't right. I finally had to force-quit everything, and then shut it down, for good. My hard drive had crashed. It was the end. Everything was gone- evaporated like the morning dew on a hot sunny day.
Alas, you think to yourself- all was not lost, for surely I had backed up my data onto a hard drive of some sort?
Almost. Procrastination had gotten the better of me. Let me leave it at that, for it is still a sore subject. Pictures of our daughter's first day in this world (cruel as it can be), pictures of our dog which had recently passed away, home footage of our daughter's first steps... all lost...
Kick myself? Oh, you can believe I did. After I was done wallowing in self pity and crying for half an hour. Yes. I am that much of a dork, I cried over a broken hard drive. But who wouldn't in this day and age? So much of our lives is stored digitally, we almost don't have to remember things anymore. It's a precarious path to walk.
Convenience = Eventual Devastation.
After a few days, when I was able to think rationally, my husband took me to have my computer checked out. Luckily* it was only the hard drive, and once replaced, I would be able to use my computer again. Months later, we returned from India and I was able to re-install my operating system and begin using my computer. Pictures backlogged on my phone from months of travel finally had a destination. This time, I backed everything up. The first day.
Since this whole experience befell me (through stupid moves of my own doing) I have become somewhat of an advocate for data backup, and I would like to think that I have made a difference in the lives of others (mom, dad) in saving them from a terrible, similar fate.
So, that is the long excuse, or at least part of it, for why I abandoned my blog for nearly half a year. I hope to thwart myself and keep on writing- at least for a while this time.
And the moral of the story is: Never let a tasty sandwich take priority over nap time, or the safety of your electronics. Even if you are afraid it will get soggy.
It's a tragic and expensive lesson.
Back again,
~Momrit
*Alas, it really could have been worse, if one can imagine such a thing.
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