I am all about letting your child lead while you sit back and watch their creativity blossom. I am always the mom that lets their children just get utterly filthy while having fun. It's the best part about being a kid for heaven's sake. I have always and will continue to even after today's sagas promoting exploration, however, people may have to start visiting me in a padded cell at the local psych ward.
We are all about painting here at Chez Stoneford. I love to paint, my children do too. Mr. BBH, not so much, but he gets the job done. So from changing the wall colors in the bathrooms oh every year and repainting this and that, you can possibly see how my children just might like to explore the wonderful world of color. I even change the color of our drapes each season and well, the color of the couch changes every 2 years (well the couch at least!).
So here is how the day went today....
Being a SAHM, you never really have that time for yourself unless you want to get up oh say 2-3 hours before everybody else in the house. You know those wonderful pleasures of taking a shower, brushing your teeth and combing your hair possibly even shaving your legs before the Yeti in the woods asks for his winter coat back. But for this SAHM who has an alternative schedule of children who go to bed late and sleep past 8:00 in the morning, I cherish sleep. I am exhausted from doing our daily grind and well frankly the Gator has taken it upon himself to decide along with Monk that sleeping through the night is optional rather than a necessity. So, I keep a toothbrush in the kitchen, in the 1/2 bath and both bathrooms upstairs. I want to make sure that I create the opportunity to be able to at least take the 2 minutes to brush my teeth where ever I am in the house. Same goes for hair ties. They are all over the place, so if we are in a rush I can grab and go.
Up from playing in the living room today, Monk says..."I have to go potty" and gets up and goes into the bathroom. Well 5 minutes go by and I politely go up to the door and ask him if everything is ok and the little being says, I am fine. Then 5 more minutes go by and still no Monk. So up I went and actually opened the bathroom door to see what was going on...This is what I found.
Another toothbrush bites the dust. Gone. Yep. There was my mini-human ever so proud of himself brushing his teeth with my tooth brush. Why? He says "my teeth were yellow". Ok good reason to go and brush your teeth with your own toothbrush, but it wasn't as convenient I guess.
Then later in the day...
I set up a wonderful invitation for my children at the kitchen table. I had pre-taped paper down and had 3 different kinds of finger paints out. One being the Crayola Magic Wonders and the other 2 being a heavier finger paint. My idea of this was for me to actually get all of the dishes done while my children had something fairly constructive to do a few feet away. Firstly, the Gator got right into it...patting and smooching paint all over his paper, on his onezie, even the edge of the table and the side of the booster seat I had him propped up in. But that's ok, the Gator is 9 months old and he had fun. I know from the glob of goo that I clean out from his nostrils that he had fun with it. Now my wonderful mini-human of a 3 year old was a different story.
It began wonderfully, you know birds chirping in the background and visions of sugar plums dancing around Lalalalala....there they sat at the table giggling and laughing...having fun. So, there I went dish after dish, sippy cup and soap. Next I go and check their masterpieces and yes they are the most beautiful smooshed glops of knights on horseback and a castle up the winding road. Yep. I saw it...I think...not so much, but the important part was Monk thought I did. So back to finishing the dishes I went. Then about 2 minutes later I turn around and all the finger paint is scooped out of the little pot container it was pleasantly placed in as not to mix and spread. Monk's face is green and so are...his arms, legs, neck, face, even his heiny. Then I looked to the table and well, it was coated to and even the sliding glass doors at mini-human height level from stretching his arms as far as he could. Yes. 2 minutes.
Now on to tonight...
Monk: "Mommy I am hungry, can I have a fruit bar?" Normally this would never have been a "No" in our house, but he has taken to not wanting to eat dinner. So I had to tell him "no" and that he had to wait for supper. After a half an hour of listening to how hungry he was he got me. "If I don't eat, then I can grow up to be big and strong...". Well he was right, so off to the kitchen I went to cook supper. I got it all prepared and hour and before our normal supper time to find the bugger passed out on the couch. So I let him sleep for a bit then woke him up because I am trying to break this vicious sleep cycle, plus he is a complete and utter grouchapotomus if I wake him up too early. So there my freshly cooked delicious supper sat...cooling...now cold.
At the dinner table Monk sat. Supper right in front of him. 2 bites for 45 minutes went into his mouth. A fight ensued. A one-sided on at that. Screeching at the top of his lungs. Angry at the fact that his baby brother got desert and he didn't. His plate went back into the fridge when he yelled at the top of his lungs that he wouldn't eat. So upstairs I carried him kicking and screaming, even through putting his jammies on and me walking out the door, without even saying a word. He is still up there screaming for me.
Now who was it that said Terrible two's? They were WRONG.
We are all about painting here at Chez Stoneford. I love to paint, my children do too. Mr. BBH, not so much, but he gets the job done. So from changing the wall colors in the bathrooms oh every year and repainting this and that, you can possibly see how my children just might like to explore the wonderful world of color. I even change the color of our drapes each season and well, the color of the couch changes every 2 years (well the couch at least!).
So here is how the day went today....
Being a SAHM, you never really have that time for yourself unless you want to get up oh say 2-3 hours before everybody else in the house. You know those wonderful pleasures of taking a shower, brushing your teeth and combing your hair possibly even shaving your legs before the Yeti in the woods asks for his winter coat back. But for this SAHM who has an alternative schedule of children who go to bed late and sleep past 8:00 in the morning, I cherish sleep. I am exhausted from doing our daily grind and well frankly the Gator has taken it upon himself to decide along with Monk that sleeping through the night is optional rather than a necessity. So, I keep a toothbrush in the kitchen, in the 1/2 bath and both bathrooms upstairs. I want to make sure that I create the opportunity to be able to at least take the 2 minutes to brush my teeth where ever I am in the house. Same goes for hair ties. They are all over the place, so if we are in a rush I can grab and go.
Up from playing in the living room today, Monk says..."I have to go potty" and gets up and goes into the bathroom. Well 5 minutes go by and I politely go up to the door and ask him if everything is ok and the little being says, I am fine. Then 5 more minutes go by and still no Monk. So up I went and actually opened the bathroom door to see what was going on...This is what I found.
Another toothbrush bites the dust. Gone. Yep. There was my mini-human ever so proud of himself brushing his teeth with my tooth brush. Why? He says "my teeth were yellow". Ok good reason to go and brush your teeth with your own toothbrush, but it wasn't as convenient I guess.
Then later in the day...
I set up a wonderful invitation for my children at the kitchen table. I had pre-taped paper down and had 3 different kinds of finger paints out. One being the Crayola Magic Wonders and the other 2 being a heavier finger paint. My idea of this was for me to actually get all of the dishes done while my children had something fairly constructive to do a few feet away. Firstly, the Gator got right into it...patting and smooching paint all over his paper, on his onezie, even the edge of the table and the side of the booster seat I had him propped up in. But that's ok, the Gator is 9 months old and he had fun. I know from the glob of goo that I clean out from his nostrils that he had fun with it. Now my wonderful mini-human of a 3 year old was a different story.
It began wonderfully, you know birds chirping in the background and visions of sugar plums dancing around Lalalalala....there they sat at the table giggling and laughing...having fun. So, there I went dish after dish, sippy cup and soap. Next I go and check their masterpieces and yes they are the most beautiful smooshed glops of knights on horseback and a castle up the winding road. Yep. I saw it...I think...not so much, but the important part was Monk thought I did. So back to finishing the dishes I went. Then about 2 minutes later I turn around and all the finger paint is scooped out of the little pot container it was pleasantly placed in as not to mix and spread. Monk's face is green and so are...his arms, legs, neck, face, even his heiny. Then I looked to the table and well, it was coated to and even the sliding glass doors at mini-human height level from stretching his arms as far as he could. Yes. 2 minutes.
Now on to tonight...
Monk: "Mommy I am hungry, can I have a fruit bar?" Normally this would never have been a "No" in our house, but he has taken to not wanting to eat dinner. So I had to tell him "no" and that he had to wait for supper. After a half an hour of listening to how hungry he was he got me. "If I don't eat, then I can grow up to be big and strong...". Well he was right, so off to the kitchen I went to cook supper. I got it all prepared and hour and before our normal supper time to find the bugger passed out on the couch. So I let him sleep for a bit then woke him up because I am trying to break this vicious sleep cycle, plus he is a complete and utter grouchapotomus if I wake him up too early. So there my freshly cooked delicious supper sat...cooling...now cold.
At the dinner table Monk sat. Supper right in front of him. 2 bites for 45 minutes went into his mouth. A fight ensued. A one-sided on at that. Screeching at the top of his lungs. Angry at the fact that his baby brother got desert and he didn't. His plate went back into the fridge when he yelled at the top of his lungs that he wouldn't eat. So upstairs I carried him kicking and screaming, even through putting his jammies on and me walking out the door, without even saying a word. He is still up there screaming for me.
Now who was it that said Terrible two's? They were WRONG.
No comments:
Post a Comment