Midwestern Mommy

First off. Bic, Amy, Nelson and Tom. THANK YOU for reading my blog. It means the world to me!

And now back to the innane drivel I feel compelled to dispense.

A few days ago, Seth varied his usual wakening routine of running to my bed, whining for water, then jumping on the bed and stepping on either my face, ribs or butt. It was quite nice to not wake up with a little heel in one of those areas, to be sure. But what I woke up to was far worse.

He loves toothpaste. The kid would eat an entire tube if I would let him. This is the only reason toothbrushing isn’t a monsterous chore. So anyway…. I opened my eyes to see up to him sitting on my hubby’s side of the bed. And in his cupped hand, was a mound of blue-ish gel. I darted up as I watched him take a hearty lick of what I realized was toothpaste.

It was all over his hands, face, clothes. I got out of bed and promptly broke the resolution I make with myself daily — the one where I promise to stop cursing like a sailor. (I can usually make it at least a FEW hours before I blow it.) Because there, on the carpet, was an entire NEW tube of toothpaste EMPTY! He’d squeezed and stepped on the paste, used it to draw pictures in the carpet, and I think even rolled around in it. (It was even on his back in and his hair.) And it is not like I’m all upset about wasting toothpaste. It is just that I didn’t realize exactly HOW much toothpaste is in an entire tube. ALOT!

He walked around in it too. His arches were caked with paste. And dog hair. The vaccum cleaner was broken and there was enough dog hair in the carpet to make 5 more damn dogs!

I don’t know HOW I didn’t wake up with all of that activity. But he was pretty quiet. He usually is when he’s doing something destructive. But then again, I’d been having a nasty bout of insomnia for a few days and could very well have been sleeping a bit sounder than usual.

But anyway… bathing insued. Followed by screaming (his) and muttered cursing (me). After bathing, I went upstairs to try to fix the mess. Seth destroyed the carpet awhile back when he spilled 3/4 of a gallon of paint all over the floor, bedframe and sheets. (Long story and I think a previous entry). So a feeble attempt was made. Remaining globs were picked up and now there’s just a bunch of faint blue lines and big spots in the carpet.

My little experimental artist… If he ends up being famous someday, you’d better believe I will be expecting expensive Mother’s Day gifts like condos, trips to Europe, or diamonds. And I fully intend to let him know of these expectations at a later date. But for now, what I’ve really learned from this is that I need to start sleeping with one eye open.

Two days ago, while snuggling up with Seth for a much-needed nap (on both our parts) I noticed he smelled kinda… funky/stanky. Strange. Its not like the kid doesn’t get a bath. The whole neighborhood knows when Seth gets a bath. There’s constant screaming on his end and a few muttered curses on mine. I noticed he had his beloved Brown Bunny curled up in his arm. Without thinking, I sniffed the bunny. And gagged.

“Brown Bunny” has been with Seth since he was a few weeks old. BB has been his constant night-time companion through colds, stomach viruses, varied seasons and dreams and plenty of ordinary nights. He’s usually left in Seth’s darkened room. But not this time. BB finally got to see some daylight. And wow, BB’s been doing some hard livin’.

I asked Seth if I could give BB a bath. I thought the little caveman was going to projectile vomit pee soup and waited for his head to start spinning. Then I tried to sneak BB downstairs. I succeeded but Seth caught me on my way down to the laundry room. More violent protesting ensued. So I gave up. Until today.

Today my in-law’s took Seth for an overnight visit. (Do you see why I love my in-laws so?) Whewhoo! A reprieve from reading “Walter the Farting Dog, Volumes I, II, and III twelve times a day! Marc is in PA working on the project from hell that will NEVER die. So I have a whole house to myself for 24 hours! Where’s a hot, non-English speaking, early 20-something cabanna boy when I need him? I’ll settle for some Chinese, a good movie and a nice long walk with Abbey-dog.

But before that, I need to throw BB in the wash and hope his musical guts still work afterwards — I have no clue how to extract them. Anyone up for sweet and sour chicken with me and BB? I promise, I won’t even mention Walter.

P.S. Nic and Shannon. To clarify, I like “Walter” alot too but obviously not as much as Seth does.

The boy is starting to get the hang of potty-training. Unfortunately, its not exactly the most crucial part.

When he has to “go”, he takes off his diaper… and pees on something. Then you see him walking around nikked from the waist down. And we have the following conversation, yet again.

I say, “Seth. Where’s your diaper?”
He says, “On the bloor, Mommy.”
I say, “Why did you take your diaper off?”
He says, “I had to go potty.”
I say, “Where exactly did you go potty, sweets?”
He says, “I go potty on the (insert whatever object here. Take your pick. It could be the floor, his bed, our bed, his pillow, the couch, a toy…)

He will pee on anything but won’t sit on his potty chair or even stand near it and aim. So the house… It smells… And you can guess what it smells like, can’t you.

I’ve told him once or twice that the next time he does this, I will start rubbing his nose in it. But he knows an empty threat when he hears one. Abbey dog, on the other hand, thinks this is a most marvelous idea as she wags her tail with vigorous approval. But then again this is a creature whose favorite past time is licking her butt and puking on the carpet.