Sunday, December 16

Water, anyone?

As I was painting the trim in the downstairs bathroom tonight, for some reason, this incident popped in my mind. I smiled to myself so glad I remembered.

A few months ago I was giving Natalie a bath. Noah wanted to help so I gave him a cup to fill with water and pour back into the tub. He decided he wanted to drink the water instead. He's telling me that he's drinking water. I ask him if it's good to which he replies "yes". When the bath is done, I turn the water off and pull Natalie out of the tub. Noah wants more water. I tell him to wait until I finish drying off Natalie and I'll turn the water back on. He says, "Noah do it." I say, "No, wait for mommy." He runs towards the faucet. I turn to stop him only to see him pass the faucet and head for the toilet. Apparently he wasn't drinking from the faucet of water for Natalie's bath, he was getting water from the toilet. Luckily the water was clean!! He didn't know not to drink toilet water because when he told me he was drinking water, I didn't make a big deal out of it and I even asked if it was good. I never thought to differentiate between drinkable water and non-drinkable water. I guess Noah and I are both learning as we go. :) Noah and Natalie take bathes together now or Natalie gets a bath when Noah is sleeping or Dave's home. Just one more thing I'm learning as I go! :)

Oh No - not again...

I went to get the mail on Friday. All I have to do is walk to the curb. I think to myself, "Noah is playing with his toys. He won't notice." WRONG - why do I continue to underestimate the power of my 2 year old. I turn to come back up the yard with the mail and Noah is standing in the window waving. I smile and wave back. I get to the door and wouldn't you know it, the door is locked!! At least this time he unlocked it when I asked rather than making me run around like a crazy woman looking for a way in.

"good Noah stories"

I got an email from Carolyn, Penny's sister, Tuesday morning asking me if I had any good Noah stories. I couldn't think of any off the top of my head so I decided to think on it for a while. Things have been kind of quiet on the "good Noah stories" lately. Noah, little Noah - so smart - apparently knew Carolyn was looking for a few good stories. So, Carolyn's email set off a chain of events like none I hope to experience again... :)

I'm pondering the question of a good Noah story, I decide to put painter's tape around the crown molding of the foyer so I can paint once they both down for their afternoon nap. Natalie is down for her morning nap and Noah is "helping" me. I'll give him a piece of tape and he'll run into the kitchen and put it on the wall or on one of his toys. Then, suddenly, I realize and think to myself, "He hasn't been back for tape in few minutes. Things are quiet - too quiet." I say, "Noah, what are you doing?" His response: "I need a diaper." Oh No!!! I walk into the living room and find his pajamas, his socks and his diaper in the floor - there he sat, on the couch, naked, watching Backyardigans. There's a good Noah story for Carolyn. You would think that would be enough but then he had to be cute, too.

Me: "Noah, we're going to see Santa tomorrow."
Noah: "See Easter Bunny. Not Santa."

should be enough good Noah stories for Carolyn, right? WRONG!!!

I wake up this morning to find snow on the ground. It's expected so I decide today is "potty training" day. After 30 minutes, 3 pairs of underwear, 2 pairs of pants and 6 trips to the toilet where he went pee, I give up. Today is NOT "potty training" day!

Dave calls to say the roads aren't bad and we can meet for lunch at the mall to see Santa. It's 1115 and he has a 200 meeting. I haven't showered - luckily the kids have been fed. It'll be close but I can pull this off if I hurry. I jump in the shower, get the kids changed and search for all the "accessories" that go on any given car ride: dog, drink, snacks, diapers, blanket, teething toys, etc.

Once all is loaded into the diaper bag, I have to take the bag to the car. I tell Noah, "I'm putting the bags and Natalie in the car. I'll be right back and then we can go see daddy at the mall." I knew the words "see daddy" would be all it would take to get a very mischievous 2 year old to obey, right? Again, WRONG!! I load Natalie in the car, throw the bags in the front seat, start the car so it's warm for Natalie since it's only 27 degrees outside. This is a normal routine for us since Natalie's arrival 6 months ago - one child and the diaper bag in the car, back in the house for child number two. As I reach for the door to go into the house, the door knob doesn't turn.

What - try again - nothing!!!

"Noah, open the door."
Jiggle - jiggle of the handle from inside.
"I can't."

"Noah, let go of the door handle."

"I did."

Quietly, to myself so Noah doesn't hear me curse and hear panic in my voice, "Oh SHIT!! Noah is locked in the house. Shit - Shit - Shit!!" (We don't carry house keys on the key chains. The only key that we keep outside the house goes to the deadbolt on the garage door. The deadbolt isn't the one he locked.)

Think - call Dave. Shit, my phone is on the counter next to the kitchen sink.

Go to the neighbors - Shit, nobody's home. "What the hell, there's 3 inches of snow on the ground and it's 27 degrees outside, where the hell is everybody!!!"

"Noah, turn the button."
Jiggle - jiggle of the hand from inside again.
"I did."

Think - think - think...even if I get a hold of Dave, he doesn't have a key either... Think - think - think... Maybe there's a window unlocked at the back of the house. Not likely but what are my options. Laundry door - locked! Bathroom window has a screen. I know the window is locked but I'm desperate. Tear a hole in the screen so I can reach my hand in - locked!! Damn It!!! Kitchen window - locked!!!! What the hell, we live in suburbia, why are all the windows locked on the house!!!!!

Oh - there's hope... The back door... "Noah, come see me! Noah I'm at the window by your toys! Noah..."

I can see his little head bobbing up and down as he runs from the kitchen to the living room. He's not worried at all. You can tell by his walk that he doesn't really understand why I'm not coming in the garage door where I went out. Why am I yelling at him to open the door... Fun game!!

"Noah, turn the knob." His little hand reaches for the deadbolt. He knows it well. He locks it when Dave goes out that door to put food on the grill. (Thus the reason for the key to the garage door being outside the house.)

"Noah, turn it the other way." His little fingers turning slowly - confused! Usually when he turns that knob, he gets in trouble for locking Dave out.

Success at last - I'm in the house!!! Smart man - locks mom out and manages to let her back in another door. After "a good job for letting me in, you're naughty for locking me out" speech we are off to see Santa!!

We see Santa and come straight home. I don't want to temp fate anymore. I have plenty of stories for Carolyn and it's only been about 36 hours, let's not push our luck!! I do have a new strategy for loading the kids in the car... Noah goes first!!! Oh the adventures of being a mom. :)

I hope you've enjoyed my "good Noah stories", Merry Christmas!!

Saturday, December 15

Our little kangaroo...

December 2007

Natalie doesn’t like to eat her cereal when she’s tired. She was very tired today so she screamed and cried as I tried to feed her. She just wanted her bottle so she could doze off to sleep. No sleeping – it’s too late in the day for a nap. That only adds to her frustration so she is really crying and carrying on. Noah was playing “hippity – hoppity” so I asked him to come “hippity – hoppity” near Natalie to make her smile. If she smiles, I can sneak a bite into her mouth. He “hippity – hoppitys” over to her and says, “I love Natalie.” So sweet!!!!

Things I never thought I'd say... (Sept 2007)

"Noah, stop walking up the wall."

September 2007

I have 2 kids. Taking a basic to shower to wash myself and my hair is a luxury much less shaving. As Noah and I sat in the floor playing cars, he reached for a toy that was on the other side of my leg. As he reached for the toy, his hand grazed my leg. He looked up at me with a funny look on his face, touched my leg again and said, “Grass.” I laugh… Apparently shaving needs to become a mandatory part of “luxury”.

July 2007

Stacy graduates tonight. I need to go to the grocery store for her surprise graduation party tomorrow at our house. I decided to go after Noah’s nap. He took his nap and we were eating lunch when it started to rain – not just a drizzle – HUGE drops of blinding rain with thunder. The kind of thunder that cracks right outside – not a rumble in the distance. During the storm, Dave called to find out what time we had to leave the house. As I talked to Dave, Noah was playing with his toys in the living room…or so I thought. I heard him on the monitor upstairs in my room. I went up to find him sitting in the blue rocker playing with A&D ointment. His response to seeing me, “Toothpaste!”

After quickly ending my conversation with Dave, I do a quick assessment.

Did he eat any? If so, how much? Is it poisonous?

No, he didn’t eat any – I think.

The package says to call poison control.

Natalie has begun to fuss but she’s gonna have to wait her turn. I can’t take care of her; Noah is covered in A&D. During his bath, she begins to fuss and cry. She is sitting in her bouncy seat at the bathroom door. This bath is not going as planned. Noah thinks it’s the kind of bath he takes before bed. The kind that he gets to play and goof off. Natalie is beyond fussing. She is full on crying as though she has been abandoned.

I still need to shower and I have to go to the grocery store. It has stopped raining. Noah needs another nap by now. What time is it? We have to leave in 2 ½ hours. “Please cooperate, Noah. Get out of the bath.” He response, “No.” I bribe him with an episode of Veggietales. It works – he’s out. She’s still screaming and is now crying uncontrollably. I try talking to her as I dry Noah off and get him dressed. Talking to her doesn’t help to calm her down. Now she’s acting like, “You mean you’ve been here the whole time and you didn’t pick me up?”

As we all trek back downstairs, Noah for Veggietales and Natalie for comforting, she throws up. Not a small amount of baby spit-up but the great geiser of Yosemite projectile vomit. It lands – splat – in the middle of the kitchen floor just inches from Noah. I can’t handle another bath him and I don’t think Natalie can handle it either.

Natalie has calmed down a little and has stopped crying. I get Noah to the couch without incident and put Natalie in her swing. She immediately starts up again. I have to mop up her mess. A quick wipe with napkins or a sponge just isn’t gonna cut it with this mess. I call Dave, realizing a shower without supervision for the kids is completely out of the question.

“What time are you leaving work?” along with a brief summary of events from the last hour.

We agree he’ll be home by 530 so I can jump in the shower and rush out the door by 6. He has to walk out the door at work in one hour – “Please, God, don’t let anyone require his attention on his way out the door.”

Noah is finally lying down and Natalie is all smiles and babbling.

Okay – I think I can shower. As I turn the shower water off of a very quick shower, I hear her screaming and Noah is talking in his crib. So much for the nap!!!

I let him sit in my room to watch a Baby Einstein video. Natalie is only consolable if I bounce her in the bouncy seat or hold her. I have to dry my hair…A ball cap is not an option for graduation. I bounce her in her seat as I dry and fix my hair. I step away long enough to pull my pants off the hangar which causes the bouncy seat to stop bouncing… here we go again.

I hear the garage door open – finally reinforcements!!

April 2007

I was sitting in the blue rocker in our room on the phone to mom. Noah was playing in his room and exploring the nursery which only had a dresser and a futon in it. I kept hearing the dresser drawers open and close but just kept talking because there really isn’t anything in there for him to get into or get hurt. All of a sudden it got really quiet. That’s never a good thing with a mischievous 19 month old running around.

As I was walking towards the nursery, I see out of the corner of my eye, that he’s not in the nursery but in the bathroom. The “dresser drawers” I was hearing was actually the paint tray hitting the floor as Noah was picking up the paint roller full of paint – not just any paint – 2 day old, thick, primer paint Dave had used to paint the ceiling a few days earlier and never cleaned up.

Noah was so excited that he painted the wall like daddy. His eyes were as big as quarters when he excitedly and loudly said, “Paint!!”

My initial thought was that he was in trouble. As I counted to 10 – being 8 ½ months pregnant – I realized I shouldn’t be mad at Noah. It was Dave’s fault…I’ll be mad at Dave. He didn’t clean the paint up when he was finished with it. As I finished counting to 10, I realized I can’t completely blame Dave. I left the bathroom door open.

As I assessed the damage, I see paint on the new rug the I just bought 3 days earlier, hand lotion in the toilet, paint on the new towels, and the paint he put on the wall, because it was so thick in the tray and partially dried, has given our walls a nice texture.

My first thought was, “Dave’s gonna kill him.”

I called Dave at work to find out where the camera was. He asked me what was wrong. I wouldn’t tell him and just kept saying I would send him pictures. He had a meeting in a few minutes and I had to hurry. He was worried something was wrong. I took pictures and, as I was trying to pull them off the camera, Dave called. He had to get to his meeting but he hadn’t gotten any pictures yet. I quickly pulled 2 pictures and sent them to him. As I waited for a response on the other end of the phone line, I just kept telling him, “Nobody’s hurt. Don’t be mad.”

“How much is this going to cost to fix?”

“It’s something we are going to do anyway. We may just do it sooner than we would have liked. Don’t be mad.”

“How much?”

“$30 or so? Don’t be mad.”

“The email just got here."

I hold my breath as I wait for his response – the moment of truth.

He opens the email and laughs. What a relief – Noah will live to see another day!!