Monthly Archives: August 2009

I’m still here… barely

Not to toot my own horn or anything, but I’m happy to report that several friends have actually requested that I blog again. Wow, I am surprised anyone noticed! Must be a slow news week.

Anyway, it has been, oh, 4 months since I’ve put fingers to keyboard (well, in the blogosphere. I’m on the computer more than any human not working in an office should be), so I guess it’s time to update.

My domestic skills have waned some over the past months in some aspects and grown in others. My last blog was about gardening (which I totally didn’t even remember, I just happened to see it), which is now laughable. First of all, I do not enjoy playing in the dirt in the midst of a Tennessee summer. I do not enjoy being out of air conditioning in the midst of a Tennessee summer. So my precious little flowers that I slaved over during the lovely spring months have not quite survived. Some of them actually made it despite me until recently, but I gave up and let Declan pull them out of the dirt yesterday. It was just a pitiful reminder of my negligence. My shrubs are no longer nice and neat and some strange mushroom patches have grown up all over the yard that frighten me, so the yard is no longer fun for me.

I’m still cooking more than I used to, but Paul still cooks a lot and he tends to be the kitchen cleaner no matter who cooks. Whoops. That’s not very DG of me (domestic goddess, natch). But I am meal planning a lot and still making yummy food for Declan, so that has to count for something. Hell, some days it’s a good thing when the cat gets fed.

I mop and sweep tons more than I ever have in my life and am kinda obsessing over those Shark steamer mops? Yea, gotta have one. So things are definitely better on some fronts.

Do not buy this toy for my son.

Do not buy this toy for my son.

My focus right now is, of course, our crazy son. I gotta say, since hitting a year old, I’m enjoying Declan more and more. Not that I didn’t enjoy him before, obviously. But I’m loving this hilarious toddler phase. He’s rambunctious, an entertainer, learning new words and skills daily and is basically just hilarious.

Most of the time.

We’ve entered a new phase recently that I’m sure is typical for all kids of this age, but it is seriously the most head-bangingly frustrating phase to date.

Laughing at discipline.

UGH. I. COULD. SCREAM.

Seriously, there is nothing – NOTHING — more infuriating than grabbing your monkey spawn/child off of the coffee table/entertainment center/kitchen chair/roof of the house (any day now, I’m sure) with the intention of putting the fear of God and all mothers everywhere in your child, only to have him double over in giggles and run right back to the death trap you just rescued him from. I spend my day trying to stay one step ahead of this fearless adventurer, trying find the one crack in the baby-proofing and dare-devil-proofing that Paul and I have tried to implement all over the house, only to walk into a room and find him inches away from a head injury. So what’s a mom to do? You try to scare the holy living crap out of them so they won’t do it again. And how do you scare a child that views a China cabinet as a jungle gym?

No clue.

I’ve tried a stern “NO!” I’ve tried a firm grab off of said piece of furniture. I’ve ignored the behavior (until my anxiety made me run over and grab him off of the ceiling fan or whatever apparatus he was attached to) and I’ve nicely asked him to “Please be a good boy and not stand on the coffee table, ok sweetie? Ok? Seriously? Ok?” I’ve distracted with toys and cartoons. I’ve tried a time out (and if anyone knows how to make a 16-month-old sit quietly on their own for more than, say, 3 seconds besides Dora, Diego or Elmo, let me know. Those methods don’t exactly say “punishment.”) and, sadly, I tried a pop on the leg (a light pop, I promise I don’t beat my child. Just trying to save his life.). I think the leg-pop made him laugh the hardest.

Sigh. So apparently Angry Mommy isn’t very scary. And neither are narrow ledges or heights. So I’m trying to enjoy this age despite the danger and defiance involved. I guess the good thing about defiance at 16 months old is that it involves smiles and laughter and not eye-rolling and smart comments. I’ll do my best to make sure Declan lives to that age, but I’m not sure what condition I’ll be in.

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