Tag: Chernobyl

It’s Just a Phase, Or Is It?

On By Doser3In Dreaming of Mommyhood - GeneralLeave a comment

“It’s just a phase.  He’ll grow out of it,” my mother says to me for the one millionth time as I’ve called her pleading for advice, help, a drink, anything.   She then goes into stories about my brother, how strong willed he was and determined to carve his own path regardless of who was standing in his way.   Sounds about like my Henry.

I don’t remember Davey being this terrible.   I don’t recall that every other word muttered under my breath was a swear word, as I found some sort of outlet for myself while travelling along the not so dusty road of a two year old.   I was actually pregnant with Henry when Davey was going through his terrible twos, and no way was my patience, or lack thereof, this bad.   No way!   And no way was Davey this demonic.  I’ve even snuck into Henry’s room some nights just to see if his eyes glow, or if he’s chanting in his sleep.   At least that will confirm what’s going on with him.

It’s gotten to the point where I wonder if it’s too early to start researching military academies for Henry.   Is it?   I mean, if I tell them my child is a juvenile delinquent and that I’m unable to whip him into shape the way my parents did (spankings and what not), then will they do it for me?   Seriously, I’m considering it.

I tell people about Henry and I hear the same. old. thing.   “Not my sweet Henry.   Not that cute little boy.  Maybe you should let me have him for day.”  Yes!  I will give him to the least highest bidder for the day.  Heck, I’ll even pay you and I can guarantee that if he doesn’t turn you into a knee walking drunk, who wants to drown her sorrows in a bathtub full of whiskey every night, nothing will!   I would stake my life on the fact that my boy would turn even the driest person in the world into a raging alcoholic.   And I’m not really sure if they’ll thank me for it or forever curse me later.

I’ve been told it’s the second child syndrome.  Perhaps!  Perhaps that is the case.  He’s eager to do what his big brother does, but to do it in his own way, AND to do it better, no less.   He is strong willed and honestly there are some days when I’m almost tempted to rip off my shirt and just get the verbal, toddler flogging over with!  It’s a daily regime.   There’s rolling of eyes (mostly his), gnashing of teeth (both of us), and roars that could wake the greatest of hibernating bears (and I think he has me beat with the roars).

He’s bossy, domineering, whiney, dramatic, and I swear if he didn’t have his man parts, I would think I’ve been given a daughter!   I wake up daily, praying to make it at least through my coffee (I’ve given up trying to make it through breakfast) before having a melt down to rival that of Chernobyl.  I actually get up EARLY just so that I can have some peace and quiet!  I sacrifice my sleep! By 10 am, I’m wondering if I could sneak in a beer.   By noon, I’m thinking my husband better not be late getting home.  By 3, I’m telling myself it’s 5 o’clock somewhere and then considering how it would look to go into the local liquor store with my two kids in tow.   I think the owner and everyone else would understand and once they met Henry, I bet my first bottle would be free.

The one perk to this kid’s attitude…I NEVER regret my decision to have a tubaligation.   Smartest decision I’ve ever made. EVER!

 

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Santa Elf Davey

On By Doser3In Dreaming of Mommyhood - GeneralLeave a comment

Well before my first child was ever born, I’d already jumped on the “Elf on the Shelf” bandwagon. I’d seen a co-worker bring one in and I thought, “what a marvelous idea! I wish we’d had something like this when I was a kid.” I wanted to purchase one terribly, but I didn’t have a child to give one to.

When I became pregnant with Davey, Elf on the Shelf was one of the first things I wanted to purchase. My sister-in-law beat me to the punch, having purchased one for me, her mom, and herself (in order for Davey to really buy into this, we had to prove that the elf really was everywhere he would be). Davey was 3 months old for his first Christmas, so I packed up the Elf on the Shelf and decided I would wait a few years to pull him back out.

Santa Elf Davey hanging out in the lamp.
Santa Elf Davey hanging out in the lamp.

Davey is now 3 and in preschool. He’s a lover of books, all books, any books, every book (makes this book loving mama happy), so I thought why not dust off the Elf on the Shelf and read the story. Plus, with the addition of a walking Henry, Davey is becoming a little naughty and territorial. I needed something to help keep him in line.

I told Davey a little bit about the elf, I read him the book, and told him we needed to come up with a name. I assumed the name would be Jasper, just because Davey’s grandfather calls him that (no clue why) and Davey must name everything else “Jasper”. This didn’t happen. Davey wanted to name him “Santa Elf Davey”, not just “Davey”, but we MUST say the entire name, otherwise he starts having a stage 5 meltdown and the toxic radiation from one of those could compete with Chernobyl.

That first day, Santa Elf Davey hung out in our Christmas tree. He was high enough up for Davey not to touch him, after all Santa Elf Davey could lose his “magic” if Davey touches him, and Santa Elf Davey had the perfect view of the room. All the better to see you with, my dear. Which leads me to the “creepy” factor of this elf “watching” my child. Truthfully, the elf creeps me out more than he does Davey.

Santa Elf Davey on the mantle.
Santa Elf Davey on the mantle.

For years, I’ve watched Pinterest and Facebook feeds. I’ve seen pictures and read blogs about how all these wonderful moms (not me) find creative ways to place their elves. Some of them are ridiculous. For example, I’ve seen pictures of some elves who’ve left messes with flour, sugar, and even toothpaste and I’m led to question some of these moms. Don’t you want your child to behave and doesn’t the mess just encourage the same from your child?

This morning I read a blog from another mother about her Elf on the Shelf experience and it pushed me to write about my own. Much like Tabatha Kammann from the blog http://kooperscoop.blogspot.com/, I’ve felt the guilt of being a not so clever mom bearing down on my shoulders. I pulled out Santa Elf Davey a week and a half ago. That’s 11 days. And in those 11 days, Santa Elf Davey has only moved from his spot 5 times and they haven’t exactly been clever. This has prompted Davey to inquire about just how authentic Santa Elf Davey really is, after all the story does state that he will be in a different spot each morning. I haven’t exactly been following through on my end.

Santa Elf Davey in his original spot.
Santa Elf Davey in his original spot.

There’s a lot of unnecessary pressure with Elf on the Shelf, thanks to all you Overachieving Moms. I struggle just to remember to brush my teeth in the mornings, so how could you possibly expect me to remember to move Santa Elf Davey?

Thanks to Tabatha’s wonderful blog this morning, I was reminded that Santa Elf Davey has sat atop that surround sound speaker for 3 days (and the speaker idea was thanks to my husband remembering to move the darn elf). Davey’s already asked me once if Santa Elf Davey perhaps didn’t go see Santa on Sunday, the day Davey was his naughtiest. No, Davey, he told Santa. And Davey responds, “Mama, is he for real? He hasn’t moved in days.”

When you have a moment, check out Tabatha’s blog.