Thursday, August 15, 2013

Boo-Boos and Watching What We Say

When Aryn started talking, people kept saying to us, "Watch what you say now!" Aryn spoke her own language, that a friend of mine called "Arynese." It was very fitting, so we stuck with that. Entire sentences would be zipped through with random English words thrown in. For example,

"Onwer lorewrw laswor lawrouarpw ICE CREAM werouawerar." 

It took awhile and a lot of, "WHAT?!" questions before we started to figure out what she was saying. Once I started to understand Arynese, she started speaking better English and it has gotten progressively easier. Everyday she seems to learn new words and sentences that make us wonder just how she learned how to say that. She amazes us. 

Then it happens. 

Bauer barked.

I yelled, "Bauer! Shut up!" from upstairs.
Aryn yelled, "BAUER! SHUT UP!"
"Aryn! Don't say shut up!"
"Mommy! Shut up!"
"Mommy! Shit!"
"Dammit. Aryn stop it!"
"Oh for goodness sakes."
"Shut up, Mommy, you goodness shit stop it!"

 This literally happened.

She repeats everything. Every sentence I say, 5 seconds after it comes out of my mouth I think, "WHY DID I JUST SAY THAT?!" 

This rotten kid literally repeats everything. From random things I say during the day (like "Oh my goodness") to swearing, she has me down pat. 

Then, she stops and says random, downright adorable, sweet stuff. Like today, I was coughing (I have a horrible cough right now, brought on by said toddler) and she came up to me, hugged my arm and said:

"I lub you, sweetheart."

Oh - "lub" is "love." Her V's are B's. Her R's are P's (downsteps, not downstairs). Her R's are also N's (Anyn, not Aryn). Her R's are also W's (Wyan, not Ryan... oh yeah, she also calls us by our first names sometimes). 

Toddler talk is hilarious. And confusing. I also think it should be a college course, and one that I am excelling in. Toddler Talk 101, Valedictorian, moi. 

Thank you, thank you.

Along with my little mimic, comes a whole swack of new conversations everyday. Amongst those is a great time of listening to every single boo boo this kid gets.

Now, I don't mean boo boo as in she slams her finger in the door. 


Bauer's whisker ever so slightly touches her leg. "MOMMY! BAUER BITED ME!"


Or, a bug just happens to land on her leg. Bugs = death. Hell breaks loose. She is DYING. At least that's what you'd think when you hear the screams and see the tears. "MOMMY! A BEE! A BEE BITED ME!"

Ryan is deathly allergic to bees. So, as a mom, when you hear this, you race as fast as you can to your kid. Who is standing there. Squishing a ladybug. 

That'll teach you, ladybug, for going near a toddler. 

Poor ladybug.....

So with tattletaleing on poor innocent bugs, she also tattle tales on her friends. She still shows me a tiny, barely-visible dot on her finger. "Keegan hurt me." 

Yeah... you haven't seen Keegan in a week. 

Life is pretty exciting around here. 

Lucas is doing great. He's smiling pretty much all day. When he's not smiling, he's sleeping. When he's not smiling or sleeping, he's playing with his toys. He loves toys. The one thing he spends the least amount of time doing a day is eating. It drives me insane. He's clearly starving (he shows no signs of hunger, but when he hasn't eaten for 5 hours during the day, that's the only logical explanation.... right?). Yet he's gaining weight, he has huge rolls, he poops like a champion, and I'm, once again, loving cloth diapers (no blowouts!!).

Tonight we sleep in heat. Alberta heat waves suck. But tomorrow we get air conditioning. Twill be a fantastic life. 

Thursday, August 1, 2013

Fun times at Walmart

Ryan often - and by 'often', I mean, literally, at least two or three times a week - asks me, "how come things always happen to you?"

I always have a story. Something always happens to me. But I'm a firm believer that things always happen to everyone, but not everyone finds these little stories interesting enough to tell, and therefore, it makes my stories seem all the more prominent.

Plus, I embellish stories.

A lot.

Case-in point: I got hit by a car.

Not even literally. I got pushed by a car, but "I got hit by a car" makes the story seem all the more exciting. Plus, my passive "excuse me sir, but you hit me with your car" response really doesn't make for a good story.

So listen to the embellished version!

Lucas has been crying. A lot. At his 2-month check-up, the nurse said, "At 2 months your baby will begin to cry more - their crying peeks at the 2-month mark."

Me: "Oh, he's SUCH a good baby and rarely cries. I think we dodged that bullet!"

3 weeks later, I am eating my words. This kid cries if you hold him, set him down, and, my favourite, when he's fast asleep and you sllooooowwwwwlllllyyyyy lay him down in his crib, he wakes up and screams bloody murder and you have to start the process all over.

I won't lie: I've uttered Samuel L. Jackson's amazing children's book title a few times to this kid. More than I like to admit.

So Ryan got home from work yesterday, and before he had time to change out of his work clothes, I was standing there telling him I was going to Walmart. I needed to get out of the house and away from the whining and crying for a good 20 minutes. Mother of the year award?? Hell, no.

So I went to Walmart. I parked on the opposite end of the parking lot, because, you know, those extra 30 feet are real exercise. The parking lot was fairly empty for the first time ever, and I slowly walked to the store (you  know, gotta take my time and make this break worth it!).

Because the parking lot was empty, I just quickly scanned the area in front of my walking path and just kept walking. Suddenly, I felt something on my left hip. Then I got pushed. Then I was about 2 feet further into the roadway.

I realized that someone was backing into me.

2 things came to mind:

1) If I let him run me over, Ryan will be stuck with the kids for at least a couple of hours while I am sent to emerg. That's 2 hours of quiet. Please run me over.

2) If I get ran over, my 20 minutes of stress-free Walmart snooping will be cut short and I'll have to, instead, listen to sickies at the hospital whine. I've had enough whining for today. Do NOT run me over.

So I hit his car with my hand. Hard. He didn't hear me and kept backing up. So I jumped forward, out of the way (which I should have done in the first place...). Again, he didn't see me until I walked up to his window, with my arms stretched out with a "WHAT THE HELL?!" look on my face. He stopped, lipped "SORRY!" and we both smiled at each other.

I just smiled at a guy who hit me with his car.

No... pushed me with his car.

Then, we waved at each other.

I literally just THANKED him for pushing me with his car.

You know what irks me the most about this whole scenario? He was parked in the "Parents With Child" parking stall. When I noticed this, I wanted to scream at him.

Not for pushing me with his car - but for parking in MY parking stall.

What an a-hole.

So I walked into Walmart, with the intention of just buying nose spray, and left with things for the 2 kids I left at home to get away from. I realized, as I was leaving, I forgot the nose spray. So I had to go back in.

"Forgot" the nose spray.


Lucas had been crying the entire time I was gone. Aryn didn't move her dress from behind her on the potty and had gotten poop on her dress. Ryan was still in work clothes. Supper was burning in the slow cooker.

And I got 20 minutes to myself.

'Twas a good day.