January 11, 2012 ~ A Bipolar Post (Not me, just the post!)

This is going to be a bipolar post, and you'll understand once you've finished reading.

This morning was another attack of the Terribles. Billy wanted my comb. Now, Daddy often lets him play with my comb and carry it around the house, which, of course, means that when I need to comb my hair I can never find my comb. I have one simple rule: it stays in the bathroom. Simple enough, right? Nope. I don't get it. Daddy loves my comb and steals it from me. Billy steals it from me- loving it for entirely different reasons I'm sure. It's an old plastic comb that Grandma bought for me long before I could drive. It's missing a tooth in the middle. And in this house you would think it's the Holy Grail of Combs.

Anyway, I didn't want it wandering so I took it away from Billy. He asked for it back and I told him no. I was holding him at the time. So, he ripped the binky out of his mouth with force and then tried to shove it in my mouth with equal force, I guess to silence me. It was actually quite funny. He still didn't get the comb.

This evening was more Precocious Billy. He tried to eat a handful of dog food. (Hey, if Buddy likes it, it must be good!) He hugged and cuddled with the kitchen garbage can. This is not an exaggeration. They cuddled. It wasn't cute. Thank God I keep the can clean. Yuck! Then I asked him to give something to Daddy. He hid it behind his back and ran away, keeping his back turned from Daddy. Yep. It was that kind of night.

And now to switch gears.

I read on facebook today about a friend of mine from college. She's not a friend that I've kept in touch with, but we are fb friends. I learned today that her infant girl died. I'm heartbroken for her. This woman is a sweetheart. I can't imagine the pain she is in. Her child was here long enough to fall in love and then to lose. It's terrible. But I haven't written to her and I probably won't. We haven't communicated since college and now is not the time. I wouldn't know what to say. Only that I shed a tear for her.

I just finished reading a book in which the author describes losing her baby sister. It's a true story. She talked about walking into the baby's room and the sheets still smelling of baby, of the empty crib, the toys that would never be played with again, the clothes laid out. I had a very difficult time reading those chapters. That baby was 1.5 yrs old and accidentally drowned. She talked about her mother losing herself into the bottle.

It's hard for me to comprehend the grief and I don't want to. I hope to never know. I hope YOU never know, either. But so many mothers (and fathers) do. So tonight I hope you will join me. Say a prayer, have a thought, or whatever you do. Send some prayers to the parentss who tonight have empty cribs and for their children who won't get the joy of growing up.

December 8, 2011 ~ Santa Left Me a Big Present!

It has a Billy inside!

Billy went back to daycare today. He is still sick, but not so sick to stay home. He has a bad cough and in the morning some light wheezing. My biggest concern with going back to daycare is exposing the other kids to this illness. But apparently it will be in his system for another two weeks, and I just don't have two weeks of vacation time laying around to stay home with him.

When he got home he was tired but wanted to get into everything.

Here he is in his little fort that he made between boxes and furniture that are still in the process of being moved in. (Aka- hey Daddy, get on this stuff!)

Billy and I had a big fight over the television. I didn't turn it on until after 7 to watch the national news, but Billy was very interested in it regardless of the programming. We're trying to keep him from toughing the TV. It's large and not attached to the wall. The bigger he gets, the harder he can smack it. He's either going to crack the screen (like when he took a swing at it today with a plastic wrench) or he's going to topple the whole thing onto himself (like today when he shook it). I tried "no!" He thinks "no" is funny. I tried the hand slap. No Go. I tried directing him towards his toys. No Go. He just kept touching the TV. Time out? Tried to bite me for that one. Finally, I resorted to the bum slap. I'm not for spanking. But sometimes you have to let them know who's boss. There's spanking- bare bum, over the knee, counting one two three. Then there's the bum slap- one to three slaps to the clothed and diapered bum right at the scene of the crime. He's got to learn to listen somehow and I'm at my wits end trying to get him to stay out of things.

The footstool cube was a big hit today. Hiding behind it, hiding in it, and here's Billy...

Falling asleep on its lid.