Random Weekend Bits.

Logan's been off work for the holiday since Friday. We'd decided to devote the entire long weekend to FUN FOR THE KIDS!

We decided this since the last 3 weekends have been devoted to 'Keeping Our Yard From Overtaking The House', which is un-fun from anyone's point of view really.

Not that we've actually done anything but clean up the stupid yard. No flowers, no tomatoes, no new top soil. Just weeding the 30 year weeds. The same ones I've seen every year since we moved into this house.

My gardening knowledge is extremely limited. Last year I made a pretty valiant attempt to domesticate our yard. I bought real plants and I worked very hard to grow them. Then there were the bugs...and the bugs left me utterly clueless and so they ate quite a bit of my garden. Then there was another predator. Logan.

It's weird because he always wanted some flowers and things to make it look like someone who actually liked this house lived here. But then he systematically set out to sabotage me. First there was the 'Mowing Incident' with the newly planted (and thriving) hydrangea. Apparently there was a twine (holding the plant in place) and mower blade run in and the hydrangea was mowed to the ground.

Then, at the end of the season, he did a quick 'fall clean up' in the yard. I'd spent all season saving my Clematis from the bug issue. I'd nursed it back from a near death experience after a vicious attack by the earwigs. He thought this plant was an annual....and so my Clematis was ripped from it's spot growing beautifully up the porch railings.

So, anyway, back to this weekend.

This weekend is all about FUN! For the KIDS! (Because fun for Logan and I would look a lot different, honestly.)

Friday the FUN started with some leisurely hanging out which moved to the bedroom for some wrestling/cuddling with Max. This is where it all turned decidedly Not-Fun for me. Perhaps you recall Alice's run in with her son's head?

I remember it also and when Max's head bashed into my teeth I immediately remembered this: "...when I first felt the impact I thought someone had playfully chucked a bowling ball at my teeth."

And yes this is what it feels like when a head is bashed against ones teeth.

I got past that and for some reason I thought it wise to sit around on the bed a little longer without protective gear.

Ten minutes later, while in the back hall crying about my horribly painful nose, I realized I'd made a horrible choice. For reasons unclear as I write this, my son rammed the heel of his foot directly onto the bridge of my nose, with all the force his 3 year old body could muster.

For a split second I thought I might lose conciousness. For a few minutes I wished I would lose conciousness.

Max immediately started apologizing and saying, in such a sad and emotionally unhealthy way, "I'm your favorite boy, right mommy?"

I had to flee the scene because I could see the guilt of watching his mother sobbing was going to drain our psychotherapy fund quicker than I can add to it.

It hurt a lot. For kind of a while. It was like the poop incident earlier this week where I felt so beaten down and overwhelmed. As I hid in the back hall crying quietly, I felt a little beaten up. Even now I'm wondering if my son secretly hates me and is deliberately trying to violently express his rage.

Saturday morning Logan surprised me by letting me sleep in and then he insisted on taking the kids plus two of Madison's friends to the zoo, by himself from 10 am until 3pm. He even stopped at the ice cream store afterwards. Guess what I did all day?

I wasn't punched in the teeth or kicked in the nose and I wasn't pooped on and nobody tore up my clematis or mowed down my hydrangea. I also didn't dwell on the smallish identity crisis I'm currently processing. I took a longish nap on the porch swing and I ate a quiet lunch alone and I read a book and an entire magazine without interruption.

The Weekend Of Fun (for the kids) also included a family ice cream outing one night after dinner, visits to the park, a parade with a lot of candy.

And the thing I've started to realize about fun times for kids: The more fun they have, the more fun they want and it seems they are bottomless receptacles for fun. No matter what we do, the kids want to do more. All this fun just whets their palates for more fun!!!!!

I can't wait until tomorrow when our regular Not Fun routine is back in place. I'm exhausted.

There was parental fun this weekend, but only when the children were asleep or occupied with their own fun. A date one night, friends for dinner another night and two mimosas at breakfast with friends while we waited for the parade to start. I think I'm ready for even more fun!

Comments

[panajane]

Those earwigs are going to give me nightmares.

[Rubber-Sol]

Your husband is one brave man, taking all those kids to the zoo and all!

Oh and I'd do anything to have a mimosa right now!!!!

[Belinda]

I KNOW that feeling, having been bashed in the teeth by my own dear 2 yr old sweetie pie daughter. I love your blog btw! :)

[mumsie]

Can you send Logan over to my house? I have some kids who need to go to the zoo.

Btw, for the potty training, my son loved the "Lift the Lid, Use the Potty" book - something about lifting a flap to pour pee down the toilet that really appealed to him. That and seeing his playmates take a wiz. Watching daddy just didn't have the same effect.

Was it alot easier with Madison? I'm hoping that's the case, having just had a girl. And please, please tell me the terrible twos are not quite as bad with girls. I got enough grey hairs the first go around.

[Melissa]

Potty training was easier with Madison. Sleeping was easier with Madison. Tantrums were virtually non existent with Madison.

Madison was using the potty in a week totally accident free at 2.5 years old. Max was sent here to shrivel my uterus (he is really cute and really funny though).

Honestly, I think it's less a 'sex' thing and more an individual kid thing. You know? Though if it helps you get through the grey hair parts, then yes, girls are WAY EASIER!

(Also, in fairness to my darling Remedial Potty Boy, I haven't done the 'Cold Turkey' training thing with him at all. I did that with Madison and we had a lot of accidents for a week and then it was over. I haven't gotten brave enough to do it with Max yet. I don't know if I will ever be brave enough)

[Rebecca]

And just how many mimosas did Logan have after the zoo trip?

There's not enough OJ in the world for me to take on such a task.

[Melissa]

He is seriously unflappable.

Really, if it weren't for my horrendous lack of any marketable skills whatsoever, it would be much wiser of us to have him at home raising the children while I was out in the world making the money.

[Lynda]

Melissa, you reign supreme. I had lost all hope and belief in my ability to be a mother and wife, thinking that mine was the most dysfunctional family ever. But (and I know this sounds like an insult but it's TRULY TRULY not)now I don't feel so alone!

By the way, my son broke my nose when I was tickling him, when he was five years old. Smacked me right in the nose with his head. Giant crunch, much weeping on my part, my son curled up in a ball, and I was sure he would never recover.

Later, after I visited the hospital for x-rays and such, things calmed down. Now, two years later, he loves to tell the story. Go figure.

Anyways, I love your writing and can't thank you enough for making me choke with laughter while stuck in the office. You rule!

[Lynda]

Duh, forgot to mention--my son is also named Max. I also have an older daughter (Alex, now 11). Both have gone through violent tantrum phases. Now my daughter relishes telling me I suck, and my son likes to tell me I'm mean. Both are probably true.