Archives for January 2012

You are not alone.

So last night I went to Hobby Lobby with Bella to pick up some stuff for crafting projects. She found a wooden wand with a star on it that she just had to have because she is obsessed with the moon and stars. But then she started to lick it like it was a lollipop and I was like “OMG stop it before you get a splinter in your tongue!” and also “OMG stop it I don’t know what kind of chemicals that wood has been treated with!” (When I started making wooden name blocks for kids I learned that a lot of wood is treated with a variety of chemicals and you don’t really want your toddler licking on, which is why I have to seek out untreated wood. But thats irrelevant to this post.)

The star wand is also somewhat irrelevant to this post but I’m getting to the point I promise.

I bought her the star wand because A.) She loved it. B.) She threw a fit every time I took it away. C.) As previously mentioned, it was covered in her saliva. But mostly I bought it to avoid a meltdown.

When we got to the checkout line I was behind a woman who’s toddler, a little boy, (who looked to be about Bella’s age) was throwing a tantrum of epic proportions. I mean TOTAL AND COMPLETE MELTDOWN. The mom was frantically trying to empty the contents of her cart on the counter and the girl and the register looked terrified. Bella had turned around in her cart and was staring at the little boy curiously (while still licking her wand). The mom was on her cell phone with her husband and handed the phone to the tot and was like “Here you go buddy, why don’t you talk to daddy?” The child proceeded to wail into the phone. The sound of his gut wrenching cries made my ears hurt. Big tears ran down his cheeks. His face was red. He. Was. Pissed. The mom grabbed the phone out of his hand and tried to talk to her husband again. You could hear her husband on the other end, “Whats wrong with him?! Where are you?! WHATS WRONG WITH HIM?!” Exasperated, she was like, “I don’t know! I don’t know!” Then from what I could gather, she hung up on him. (Well. Doesn’t that look familiar?)

I just stood there. Dumbfounded.

Then suddenly, a middle aged woman got in line behind me and stepped forward and got close to the little boy and said “Hey there little guy! You see that little girl right there? <pointing at Bella> This isn’t the way to impress her, little dude!” The boy stopped crying and looked at her, then towards Bella. For a moment his shrieking stopped but inevitably it started again. The mom looked at me and the middle aged woman, her eyes filled with tears and said, “I’m so sorry.”

And thats when my heart broke. She didn’t have to be sorry. I have been her. I know what thats like, so I said it: “Don’t worry about it. I’ve been there. I’ve been in your shoes. Trust me.” And the middle aged woman chimed in, “Oh honey me too! My kids are grown, but I’ve been there too. It happens.”

Then the mom started talking some more; “He’s been so fussy, but his birthday party is this weekend and I’m trying to get ready and I just had to get out tonight to get this stuff. I couldn’t put it off anymore.” I looked at her items on the counter, all her crafts to create a fun and festive homemade birthday party.

It just so happens, I was also there to get birthday party crafts because Bella’s birthday is in February. I’ve still got time to get all my stuff together, but I still knew what she was going through. I’ve had those days where I just absolutely HAVE to get out and get stuff done but Bella is being a terror. I hate it. I loathe it. Sometimes she can be such a handful and when she’s fussy in a store, you can feel the glares. You know that you are annoying people, but you had to bring her out.

The mom and the little boy left and he was still screaming all the way out the door and into the parking lot. But I’m glad that I (and the woman behind me) got the opportunity to tell her that it was okay. And that’s what I want to say to all the moms out there: I completely understand. You don’t have to be embarrassed. You don’t have to apologize. You should not feel inadequate. You are not alone.

 

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Remember that time when….

Geez I need to get in the habit of posting more frequently. Sometimes a week or two passes in between posts and thats ridiculous because believe me, I have stuff to say. Whether or not you want to read about it, well thats a different topic entirely.

Here’s my story for the evening:

So the other day I was talking to some pals from college and for some reason when this happens, there is always, ALWAYS, that “Hey remember that time when you…” moment. It’s always directed at me. Yes, yes, yes. Good ol’ me. Me, with the flair for the dramatic. Me, that was always in a pickle. I like to call it INTERESTING, people. I like to keep things INTERESTING. Otherwise, I would have no stories to tell and I would have no blog.

So the “Hey remember when you….” moment from this particular conversation was: “Hey remember when you locked yourself in that bathroom at that fraternity party?”

Why, yes. Yes I do.

But first of all, it was NOT a frat party. The attendants were mostly sorority and fraternity members but it was an off campus party and I would even go as far to call it an OFF CAMPUS GET TOGETHER, thankyouverymuch.

Also, I was SO not drunk. I had like *A* drink before I got locked in that bathroom and had to be rescued. I wish I had been drunk. I wish someone had been passing me drinks from the outside window while I was locked in there because it was pretty stressful, but I WAS NOT DRUNK.

Want the whole story? Well okay then. I had just arrived at this OFF CAMPUS GET TOGETHER and had had about *1* drink when I had to pee. I went to the bathroom, locked the door behind me (because you never know who is gonna burst in unannounced ya know.) I proceeded to sit down on the pot and do my business. I washed my hands and started to exit the restroom, I turned the door knob and the lock button popped out signaling UNLOCKED but yet the door would not open. I turned. I jiggled. I pushed. I pulled. Nothing.

I tried again. Nothing. I tried again and again and again. Nothing. I started to try and bang on the door to get someone’s attention but the house was so loud that no one could hear me.

So I waited. I waited until someone came to the bathroom door and tried to get in and pleaded for help from the other side of the door. Luckily it was a friend of mine on the other side, who at first, I’m sure, believed me to be rather intoxicated and incapable of opening a door. He gave me simple instructions “Turn the knob, Rachel. Unlock the door, Rachel. Turn the knob, Rachel.” ¬†After a string of profanity from my side of the door, he figured out something might actually be wrong with the door and devised a plan.

A few minutes later he came crawling in from the outside window (which was a little tricky because it was on the second story). He came into the bathroom with me and started messing with the door and realized I was NOT and idiot and I was not too drunk to figure out to open a door. The door was broken. He and someone on the other side of the door began to work to remove the door knob completely. I, on the other hand, sprang from the second story window and was lifted down by a rather tall fellow that could reach me.

The knob was eventually removed and for the next few years when I went into that particular house, the hole in the bathroom door remained.

And thats the story of how I got locked in a bathroom in college.

 

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I’ll probably end up scrubbing my bathtub with a toothbrush.

So this afternoon when I got home from work, Bella was still napping so I passed the time by doing a little reading. I was planning on her waking up and us heading out to do some errands, like running to Hobby Lobby so I could get some materials for crafts and stopping to get some dinner. But when she woke up she was really grumpy, so she’s taken to camping out on the couch and watching Dora the Explorer and drinking juice. I was feeling antsy and I didn’t want to sit there with her and watch Dora because that show makes me crazy (but not as much as Yo Gabba Gabba.) So I started trying to clean but then I realized…

Over the weekend I cleaned out the fridge and the pantry. I cleaned out Bella’s drawers and her closet and packed up all her old clothes and put them in the attic. I did all the laundry. I vacuumed the carpets. Jesus mopped the non carpet floors. We packed up all the Christmas stuff and put in the attic. I brought out my Valentines decorations and put them up. I cleaned out the disaster that was my guest bedroom that was storing wedding presents that I needed to find a place for. As I look around…there is literally nothing for me to do…which is AWESOME but at the same time I’m like….must.do.something.

I took to scrubbing down my Chia Pet. I stole Chia Pet from my uncle during a Dirty Santa game on Christmas Eve. At the time I was all “Hells yeah Chia Pet! I’m gonna grow you like a champion!!!” Alas, I cannot grow my Chia Pet. Chia Pet is a big fat fail. His seeds just got all sticky and gross and aren’t doing anything, so my Chia Pet puppy just sits there, looking pitiful and taunting me. So I decided I was going to scrub all his nasty NOT GROWING seedlings off and start all over. This is the project I came up with since I didn’t have anything to do. Seriously people. Someone give me a project.

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