My husband came rushing into the family room. “What happened? Is everyone OK”
“Yes, of course. Why do you ask?” (wasn’t it nice of me to look up from my laptop and reply?).
“The band-aid droppings… surely someone severed a limb.” he replied (band-aid droppings? as if a herd of roaming band-aids took a short cut through our house and defecated in the guest powder room).
I had to assure him that I closely examined all the imaginary injuries sustained by the toddler child, our little evil manipulator, and that she was quite fine. Swimmingly so. She just happens to like band-aids.
But that’s typical M.O. for a toddler, isn’t it? I mean, she had her first show and tell at pre-school last week. She took a seashell acquired in June on her first visit to the ocean. Her father carefully wrapped it in a soft cloth to keep it from breaking. Ends up, according to her teacher, that she showed the cloth to everyone and didn’t want to share the shell. Go figure.
And her new thing is attempting to cuss. She’s just not very good at it. It’s probably our fault – we just don’t cuss around her enough (I’ll work on doing better at that). So when her sister was doing something she didn’t like, we overheard her say “Sarah! Your choice is damn and stupid!”
The last toddler issue this weekend was the blanket issue. We found her precious blanky out in the yard. It was in sad, sad shape… had been abandoned on the playset weeks ago. We had all but given up hope of finding it. Fortunately, I was so freaking smart that earlier this year I found an identical one on eBay. She has grudgingly accepted the imposter, but was overjoyed when we found the real Precious. I’ve washed it 4 times today, pre-treated, soaked it in hot water, used bleach. I still haven’t gotten it clean. ALL YOU NEW MOTHERS OR MOTHERS-TO-BE – I know how much you hate advice, but can I please just tell you this? If your child attaches to some blanket or doll or animal, go out and buy a dozen of them! If I can’t get the original one clean, I’ll just have to wash the imposter a hundred times to make it softer. Then I’ll have to go out again and find an imposter for the imposter, just so’s we always have a back up.
Enough about the kids… the one I really need to talk about is the husband, but I shall save that rant for another day. Suffice it to say, I was so frustrated with him today it literally made my head explode.
Good thing we had plenty of band-aids.
There is no child alive who doesn’t have a thing for bandaids! (except for averagemom’s). You should come to my place and read the poem for moms and dads I have there now.
Michele sent me.
I somehow got a kid that hates bandaids. She thinks the band aid is the actual wound. Odd, I know. When she got her shots, she was given a band aid. She was fine unless she saw it, and then she said it hurt. It was hurting right until I took the band aid off, then it was all better!