Screwups with the Nativity Set- Part Deux

I have not been the best Catholic in the last few years.  I pray, but I have not been to church in a long while, mainly because the thought of keeping two kids still and quite for an hour makes me break out in hives.  Still, I try to take those "teachable moments" when I can and explain elements of the faith that a little one can grasp.  Unfortunately, last year my explanation of the Nativity set fell on deaf ears.  I had given birth a little over seven months ago.  I guess the addition of Angela was so fresh in her mind that Alice, then three, was convinced the Holy Family was a representation of our family.  She even connected family member names to the shepherd and the Magi   Poor Uncle Joe and Aunt Louise got the short shrift.  Alice ran out of figurines so they became, collectively, the ass.  Never one to admit defeat, I decided to try again this year.  Alice was a year older and I purchased the Fisher Price Nativity set complete with the inn at Bethlehem, the stable, and the Magi.  There are so many people, habitations and animals that upon seeing it set up John asked if I purchased "the whole town of Bethlehem."

As I unpacked the set and told Alice the story of Christ's birth, I was happy to notice that she seemed to comprehend it better than last year.  I was also happy with the durability of the set which has survived the explorations of her and her sister.  And then yesterday morning any hope I held for Alice's religious education died out.  I found her holding Tinkerbell over the stable so Tinkerbell could sprinkle some pixie dust over it.  Hmmm....frankincense, gold, myrrh and pixie dust...I guess it could work.  Later in the afternoon, I found Woody from Toy Story at the inn of Bethlehem.  Oh well, maybe next year.

Hard Core

"Hmmmm....what's in here?"

I meant to post this a while ago, but nothing could immediately top the "stuck in the mud" post.  Now that I am not so traumatized....


Although last year's Halloween was technically Angela's first Halloween, I don't really count it. At six months old, she had no clue what was going on. She probably thought her bag of money costume was some odd sleep sack. This year mobility coupled with a pretty good cause and effect understanding made it Angela's first "I get it" Halloween. I wish I had a camera when she received candy at the first house we went to for trick or treating. My chocoholic looked like she had discovered nirvana and she planned on fully experiencing it at her earliest opportunity. I stupidly did not consider this when I fastened her in the car seat. I let Angela continue to hold onto her treat bag. John and I chatted while we drove to our next stop. We paused when we heard ripping paper. We looked back at the same time to find that Angela had fished out a Kit Kat from her bag and was eating it- wrapper and all.


If that is not hard core, I don't know what is.

Mothers Know Best

As a kid, I hated how my mom was always right. "Be careful or you will fall". Splat! Down I went. "Don't forget your coat. It's going to get cold." Defiant and fashion conscious, I would blithely leave the coat at home and later shiver while cursing her knowledge. And now I am a mother, who like my mother and her mother, issues these orders gentle reminders to her offspring with similar results.

 

The park outing started off lovely. The air was brisk but bearable. Oddly, neither of the girls wanted to play on the equipment, but instead wanted to walk around the large duck pond in the middle of the park. We collected leaves and acorns. We threw rocks in the water. It seemed idyllic- like one of those moments that you just wish you could capture on film. If someone did capture what happened next on film, it will probably be featured on America's Funniest Home Videos. If you do happen to see what I am about to describe, please let me know, especially if prize money is involved. I deserve a large cut.

 

Anyway, I digress.

 

While we walked along the water's edge, I kept reminding Alice not to get too close. I explained how even though parts of the shoreline looked solid, the ground was soft and mushy. I turned away from Alice to watch Angela climb down from a rock wall. A cry of horror and fear pulled my attention back to my eldest who was mired up to her knees in mud. Arms outstretched she called out to me, "Quicksand. Mommy, help!!!" My body jolted into action while my mind thought, "Shit. I would have to be wearing my favorite shoes." Still, love of my daughter outweighed that thought and I gingerly walked into the quagmire. I could feel the cold dampness of the mud ooze into my shoes and through my socks. I squelched the "God, this is gross" thoughts and proceeded to pull my terror stricken and stuck daughter out while praying the little one decided not to join us. I have to say I could understand the panic Alice felt because my feet got really stuck in the ooze. I pulled her out and got us both on pavement. I looked down and saw we each only had one shoe on. Fuck. I decided to ditch her $15 Payless pair, but I went back to pull out my beloved Ugg shoe. By the time I got out of the mud again my hands were covered, but I had my two shoes. I stuck my foot into the muddy bed and picked up Angela who quickly became muddy from me. What a sight we must have been. A crazy lady with mud squishing out of her shoes carrying a toddler while berating the one shoed, mud covered preschooler following her.

 

I have to say I was not overly angry at Alice. There are some things that you just have to experience for yourself. In doing so, you learn the ever important lesson- Your mother is always right.

Slut

That got your attention, didn't it? Thankfully, I am not referring to anyone I know of the human variety. It is the pug of which I speak. Yes, Puggie Smalls, the Notoriuos P.U.G is also a notorious whore, for belly rubs in particular, but she will take any pats anywhere from anyone. This was reinforced several times yesterday. My sister came over to see the girls (and me, but I am realistic enough to realize she wanted to play with her nieces more). The poor girl could not go anywhere without the pug falling at her feet exposing her belly. You would think that with four people in the house the dog would get enough. Heck, even Angela at 18 months knows how to rub the dog's stomach (pretty gently too I might add). But that silly dog is never satisfied. There she always wants more. I wonder if they have doggie support groups for this affliction.


Even after my sister left, the dog was striving to capture our attention and center it on her belly. After dinner on Friday nights, the girls and I (poor John has been travelling nonstop for work) cuddle together in the playroom and watch some kind of animated movie. Last night, as we were enjoying Toy Story, I noticed that the pug had somehow figured out a way to lie down and have contact with all three of us. After I put Angela to bed, the pug was able to really hone in on the two of us. I have to admit that my heart kind of melted when she rested her head on Alice and used her as a pillow. Alice looked at me and said, "Mommy, Puggie is tired." I agreed and Alice proceeded to get the dog a blanket and a stuffed animal companion. The pug's snores filled the room. Maybe the life of a slut is not too bad after all.

Quirks

As I watch my offspring go about their day, I often feel like Jane Goodall studying gorillas. Their behavior is heartwarming, frustrating, and baffling. For instance, I always know when Alice is tired because she starts stroking her hair. She has done this since infancy (only then it was my hair as she did not have enough of her own). Yes, my hair was her "transitional object" as the experts have dubbed it. Sometimes it was annoying; but, I have to admit, there were perks to her love of my hair. I always had it with me was the major one. How many times have I seen a distressed parent in search of a missing (fill in the blank)? Another Alice quirk is her tendency to walk on her toes when she is happy. It reminds me of a dog wagging her tail. If she is not on her toes, I know to be on mine and step warily.

 

Perhaps, because Alice is older, her foibles make much more sense to me. I have had longer to study them. Right now, Angela has me completely baffled with her love of onions, more particularly, her need to place them throughout the house. I find them everywhere- the playroom, the bathroom, on my favorite chair. Once I found one with teeth marks in it. Boy, would I have loved to have seen her face after that taste. I know I could move my root vegetable drawer, but that is not the issue. Yes, I have a drawer solely for root veggies. My husband chalks it up to my Irish heritage. I need to figure out her purpose here. If it were garlic, I would figure she was protecting us from vampires, but I am unsure if onions offer any protection against the undead. Any thoughts?

 

Why I Need Caffeine…

I am not one of those people who don't "do" mornings. Morning is fine, especially now that Alice has evolved out of her need to wake up at 5 a.m. I do, however, require a jump start with some caffeine. My physical and cognitive abilities are simply not at their peak without a little stimulus. Even when I was pregnant, I could not give up my cup of "real" tea in the morning. I could easily drink decaffeinated the rest of the day, but I needed that initial caffeine burst. I figured that any injury I sustained due to impaired functioning would be worse for my unborn child than the little buzz she would get in utero.


This need was especially apparent this morning. Angela is teething and was up around one needing some pain relief. By the time I got her settled down, I was wide awake with busy head. I finally settled down after two, so I was a little more sluggish than usual this morning. I got the kids their breakfast and had them settled at the table while I organized mine. My anally on time self was getting irritated by Alice who instead of diving into her breakfast was teasing her sister. Why couldn't she just eat her waffle and leave her sister alone? Needless to say, I reprimanded her; however, it did not come out right. I meant to say, "Alice, eat your breakfast and stop annoying your sister." Unfortunately, because I had not even sipped my tea, my admonishment came out as, "Alice, eat your sister!"


Alice stopped what she was doing and looked up at me quizzically. She replied, "But, Mommy, then I would not have baby Angela anymore, and that would make me cranky."


And now we see why I need caffeine. Apparently, I become so addled without it that I promote cannibalism in place of Eggo's.

A Harsh Winter???

Little pieces of folk wisdom hit me at odd moments. In particular the change of season seems to be loaded with these pearls of wisdom (?). I often hear people commenting on the large amount of acorns on the ground and how the squirrels' coats seem especially thick. These are apparently indicative of very cold weather ahead. All this came to mind yesterday at the park. My sister and her husband were playing with Alice leaving me to concentrate solely on Angela, who quickly became a little bit bored on the playground. She had a go on all the park equipment I would allow her on, so I broke out the soccer ball. I thought she might enjoy a game on the field adjoining the playground. She liked it, but all the curious things around her soon became much more appealing. Our soccer game turned into a little nature walk.

I followed my bow-legged wonder as she chased leaves and just enjoyed the large expanse of lawn. Soon she discovered a walking path that was littered with acorns. For some reason, she was totally fascinated with them. Of course, this is also the child who is obsessed with vacuum cleaners. It is nice not having to expend too much time, energy or money to keep her happy. Anyhow, she quickly started to amass quite a collection of them. She darted back and forth from her gathering site to the picnic tables nearby where she carefully placed them on the table. As I followed her back and forth, I began to wonder: Is a toddler hording acorns a sign of a bitter winter? If so get your woolies organized. We are in for some rough weather.