A Disney Moment

Remember Disney's Cinderella?  Remember the scene where she was singing "Sweet Nightingale" while washing the floors, bubble all around her?  Well, I wasn't foolish enough to picture that in my endeavor this morning. 

Our house needed a really good cleaning, so I stopped by the Dollar General yesterday afternoon and picked up supplies: toilet bowl cleaer, Lysol spray, Endust, paper towels, soft scrub, and two sponges. 

That's right, two sponges: one for each son, in different colors so they could easily identify whose was whose. 

During breakfast, I explained the steps to scrubbing the tubs: 
1.  Remove everything from the tub.
2.  Mommy will spray down the tub with the shower hose. 
3.  Mommy will add soft scrub.
4.  Boys scrub.
5.  Mommy rinses. 

Simple, right? 

I also had one more moment of clarity, and let both boys strip down to diaper/underwear so that they would not make a mess of their clothes.  G decided he'd keeps his socks on.  Whatever. 

So here's what happened.  The boys finished eating, ran into my bathroom, and took all their toys out of our large soaker tub.  OK, I hadn't planned on cleaning that one--I'd meant the shower and their tub, but I ran with it.  G could just reach the sides and B could get the bottom.  I ran and grabbed them each a cup so they could help rinse.  While they scrubbed, I removed all the soaps from the shower.  It was going great!  G started soft scrubbing the outer edge of the laminate around the tub.  I redirected him, promising him we'd get that part with Lysol.  He agreed, and as soon as I turned to get a shampoo bottle, he swiped the shower gel, unscrewed the top, and poured himself a healthy dose of "cleaner" on the laminate.

Before he could scrub, scrub, scrub, I dashed to the toilet, snatched some tp and the trashcan and wiped up the gel.  Whew.  That was a close one.  I redirected him to the tub and all was well again.  Luckily, he found the squirt bottle to the color changing hotwheel set that used to live by that tub, so he was occupied.

I grabbed the soft scrub two seconds later. Then I snapped some pictures and congratulated myself for helping their future wives.  Go, me! 

The boys flung water all over the tub to rinse it, then we began on the shower.  It pretty much went to plan except B rinsed the shower from inside the shower.  Maybe naked cleaning wouldn't have been a terrible idea.  No matter. 

I decided to keep the cleaning train on track:  Gabe used paper towels to wipe down the laminate around the tub after I sprayed it with Lysol.  I quickly doused the toilet with toilet bowl cleaner, then left it to sit.  I asked B to grab the soft scrub and sponges, and asked G to grab the paper towels.  I grabbed the Lysol and off we went to their bathroom. 

Then a different kind of Disney moment happened: G never met us at the bathroom.  Phineas and Ferb had caught his attention, and he dropped his unravelling roll of paper towels as soon as he saw the boob tube.  B scoured the tub while I got the toilet and counters--after tearing through the house for the paper towels since G wouldn't answer me.  I was NOT going to be stupid enough to leave cleansers unsupervised for more than a second with these two!

In all, the house got cleaner.  There was no time for singing, though, and I think I may have burned more calories this way.  Still, I think it's important for kids to help keep the household running.  That's the best preparation for learning to run households of their own, right?  Besides, any time spent together is quality time.

Cold Medicine Cassie

I don't take medicine often- partly because I just don't like the idea of it, and partly because medicine affects me in a weird way.  Most prescription meds (for pain, nausea, or vertigo) as well as all cold meds, tend to make me pretty loopy and I completely lose my filter.  I compare it to what most people are like after a few drinks.  My friends and I call it "Cold Medicine Cassie".  
This week, I have quite the summer cold, and I've been treating it with lots of water, hot tea, and some cold meds.  And for your entertainment, I thought I would share some of the random things I've said and done over the past couple days.  


Monday at work: a coworker commented that I was quieter than normal.  I promptly said "you're welcome, I'm on cold meds."
Monday afternoon: after nearly falling asleep at my desk, I walked across campus for some Starbucks.  On the way back, I nearly walked into the wrong building.  Luckily, I brought a friend with me, and she was able to steer me the right way.
Later the same afternoon: While texting my sister, I stopped to tell her to thank auto correct- b/c without it I couldn't type or text.  I stand by this- my texts would have been a mess!
Monday leaving work: I said goodbye to a friend, who wished me a safe ride home.  I assured her I would be fine b/c I would be using my GPS.
Tuesday at work, I had a meeting with my manager.  When he told me that we were going to "kill 2 birds with 1 stone,"  I replied with "We're killing birds?  I usually do that with my car."  
Tuesday at Walmart: after grabbing a few things (and forgetting only one), I went to put my groceries in my car.  I knew the side of the lot I parked on, and that I had a great spot, but I couldn't find my van.  I reached for my keys, so I could hit the "lock" and make my van beep so that I could locate it easier.  That is when I realized that I didn't have my van- I had driven my husband's truck.  After another minute, I located his truck but couldn't get the cart through the cars to get to it. So I pushed my cart into the cart return, grabbed my bags, and pretended that was exactly what I meant to do the whole time.


Luckily, I'm aware of the effect of cold meds, so I do my best to be quiet, avoid any responsible decisions, and warn friends and family that I am under the influence.  I also take the minimum dosage in an effort to minimize the effects.  This week has been pretty tame compared to past times I've been on cold meds.  However, if you cross my path in the next few days and I look a little lost or confused, I probably am.  Just point me in the right direction and enjoy a good laugh.  

Similes with a Smile

G, at age two, has an extensive vocabulary.  He also is my King of Similes. 

"Look, Mama! My toy is yike a can-dole!"

Yes, G, your toy is like a candle. 

A flexi-straw is "yike a dragon".  A tree is "yike a tree"--ok, that one isn't really a simile, since a tree IS a tree, but he is only two. 

The most confusing simile was at the Petersburg National Battlefield Park one weekend.  I was tying his shoe, my hair flowing in the breeze, when he told me, "Mama!  Your hair is yike a cheeseburger." 

A cheeseburger?  I must have heard wrong.  That made no sense!  I asked him, and he replied, "Yeah, it yike a Krabby Patty."

So much for poetic genius.  

Pee Pee Candy Negotiations

My mom is excellent at potty training kids.  She (and if I remember correctly, her sister) had a simple but effective reward system: 1 Skittle per pee pee deposit.  Yes, you read that correctly: ONE Skittle.  That's it. 

Mom used the system with us, with the kids she babysat for a living, and with her other eight grandchildren.  Today, you can find a jar of Pee Pee Candy on a top shelf of one of her cupboards.  Her youngest child is twenty-nine.  Our brother is reprimanded for swiping a handful.  "Just one!" she'll scold.  He's argued that the candies are for all the deposits since his last visit, but Mom isn't going for that. 

I think G is finally ready to potty train.  He's peed on the potty in the past, but now I'm ready to commit to the training.  He complains each morning that he peed in his big boy bed, and on his socks, and anything else he's wearing, even though his diaper hasn't leaked.  I take this discomfort as readiness to go on the potty.  I also am sick of buying diapers. 

So, yesterday I showed G the Skittles. 

"Look, Buddy!"

"Candy?"  G loves candy. 

"Yes!  If you pee pee on the potty, you can have one!"

He ran right to his potty chair, which he calls his bucket.  He flung open the top, gasped, and announced, "I get a candy!  I pee pee!"

We were going to need some clarification.

"No, Pal.  If you pee pee in the bucket, you can have one."

"There pee pee in my bucket." 

I looked.  There was a water spot from when I rinsed it the last time he'd peed--three months ago. 

"No, G.  That's old.  You have to pee pee now to get a candy now."

Later, he did pee in the bucket.  "Yay!  I get candies!"

"No, Bud.  You get one candy."

"No, I want much."

"No, G.  You get one.  Which color would you like?"  See the wisdom there?  By getting him to commit to one color, the kid gets one piece of candy, argument-free. 

"Orange."  Ha, I won.  "Put them in a bowl please," he requested sweetly.  I think he was hip to my "wisdom".  You see, when he's gotten Halloween and Easter candy, I put them in a bowl so the doesn't have to wrestle a wrapper.  Them.  Plural. 

"OK."  The trick to avoiding a fruitless argument with an unreasonable party is to remain calm. 

He accepted the bowl, ate the candy, and immediately returned to his bucket.  I honestly worried that he might give himself a hernia eeking out another three drops. 

"I did it!  I get a one-a-one [another one]."

I dropped another Skittle in his bowl.  Hey, the kid was building muscle control. 

When he peed this afternoon, he requested his bowl.  He received it, as pictured above.  No arguments, no fits.  Then, this evening, just before we brushed his teeth, he made another deposit.  I grabbed a green Skittle and he opened his mouth for it, like a little baby bird. 

Now, I am not going to foolishly declare victory.  No, that is what G wants.  He wants me to let my guard down, til he can con me into much Skittles at a time with his sweet "passive" ways.  I'm still on defense, calmly considering my responses before I make them. 

I truly annoys the piss out of me.

They All Do It

All kids try to cut hair.

Most cut their own.  I cut my poor cousin's.  It was her first haircut ever, quickly followed by a trip to a licensed beautician. 

When I taught seventh and eighth grade, I'd always preface any lessons that involved scissors with, "Boys and girls, we only cut paper.  We don't cut our hair or our friend's hair.  We don't cut clothes."  The kids would laugh at my silliness, but I can boast that I did not once, not ONCE, in seven years of teaching middle schoolers, ever have a student cut anyone's hair.  Not all my colleagues were so lucky. 

In November 2009, I posted this small album of Rocky the Horse after B gave his tail a punk layered look:

I foolishly thought that was B's only attempt at cosmotology. 

Tonight, the boys got baths early so that we could go to the High School and see a children's musical put on by the Fine Arts department.  As B's hair dried, I noticed it did not lay quite right.  Just as the play began, I asked him if he'd cut his hair.  He admitted that he had, during my nap. 

What happened neat was pure reaction. I told the truth.

"It looks really bad."

B's feelings were hurt. I was at a loss. Did he think it looked good?

"Did you use a mirror?"

"No."

"Did you think about it?"

"No. I just cut it."

Now I was dumbfounded.

"Well, why'd you do it?"

"I don't know."

After further interrogation, I can say with confidence that B truly has no idea why he snipped off a random section of hair. I think it was just impulsive snipping. All kids cut hair, though. I'm just glad that G has too little hair to damage.

Dinosaur

G is the better sleeper of my two boys.  His crying tore up my nerves a bit, but not nearly like B's.  Bedtime is bedtime, and he usually hops in, says a prayer with me, and heads off to dreamland.  G is two, though, and he likes to test sometimes.  Last night, he tried to give me trouble.

When I went to bed at 9:00, I knew he was still awake in his bed.  He'd been in bed for about 40 minutes.  Still, I was surprised when he showed up in my room around 9:10. 

"Mama, I fall out my Big Boy Bed."

"Well, climb back in, Buddy!  Night."

"And my pillow fall too." Pause. "And I'm too yittle to get it."

Nice try, pal.  "You're a big boy.  Put it in your bed, climb in, and go to sleep."

Off he went.  I assumed he'd go right to sleep.  Instead, I heard Jingle the Husky Pup ask someone to read to him over the baby monitor.  He requested his story several times, but I ignored him.  Then I heard some banging, and a crash.  I had visions of G hanging by his neck from his big boy bed or some other danger I'd missed.  I'm a born worrier. 

I dashed off to his room.  I left so quickly, I did not grab my glasses.  I have really terrible eyesight, so I probably should have snatched them.  As I neared his room, I nearly ran into G, who was on his way to mine. 

"Mama, there's a dinosaur in my room!" 

"G, there is NOT a dinosaur in your room."  I took him by the hand, turned him around, and headed back to his room.

Suddenly, I had a vision of a lizard in G's room.  The kid is two and I'm not sure we've ever used the word lizard around him.  Perhaps he equated one to a dinosaur, a word in his vocabulary.  Fear seized me, and I debated between running back for glasses so I could see a creepy crawly or waking my husband to scour the room for the critter.  Then I noticed a big green blob lying on the floor of his room. 

It was his play kitchen.  The toy had been overturned, its contents spilled on the floor.  A lizard must have done that. 

"What happened, G?"

"There's a dinosaur," he replied, then opened his toddler fist.

I knelt down really closely to his hand.  Adrenaline took over; I was ready to save my child from the creepy crawly.  Inside his chubbly little hand was this:

"G, go to bed."

Looking Forward to Summer

You need to know two things before you read this post:

1.  I am a teacher.

2.  I do not think I am better than you. 

(To prove that statement, read many of my earlier posts)

I cannot wait for summer.  Most people think that, as a teacher, I spend my summers and afternoons relaxing, and enjoying "vacation".  This is not entirely true.  I have worked EVERY summer, except one.  Incidentally, that was the summer when, after much trying and crying about not being able to get pregnant,  B was conceived.  I think it was possibly lack of stress. 

Last summer, I cut back my working during the summer workschedule to one day/week.  This gave me time to take between 2 and 6 kids somewhere once or twice a week (the "extras" were Cassie's).

Here's my philosophy.  As a teacher, I know about the "Summer Slide"--the tendency of students to lose some ground in what they've learned.  It's why kids have to review when they first get back to school.  Also as a teacher, I do not have a lot of money.  I have high hopes of raising some smart, moneymaking sons, nephews and niece who will both be able to afford extravagent vacations AND be unable to dream of a summer without fun-loving me. 

So, my basic rule last summer was to go to Storytime/Library once a week and to visit a museum or park once a week.  This did not always happen, and honestly, at the end of the summer, Storytime/Library WAS the "field trip".  Still, it was a good goal.  We collected a stamp through the Virginia Time Travelers Program.  We'd VISITED other places, but forgot our "Passport".  We also attended a lot of the free programs through the local library like making beach hats, visiting an aquarium-mobile.

Then last night I came across a Summertime Fun Bucket List via Pinterest.  I started a modified version using one of the Thirty-One Carry-All bags I have.  I cut down purple and green slips and put them and a washable marker in the outside pocket.  I then began filling out green slips for places we could GO on a whim, and purple slips for things to do at home for the day.  So far I've listed local playgrounds and free museums on the green slips.  On purples, I've listed Popsicle Sticks,Tent Day,Bake something, Make Popsicles, Train Set,Hopscotch, Board games, ABC Scavenger Hunt,Megablocks,Make jewelry, Paint.  Basically, these are things I'll drag out for a day, but don't want to clutter up the house all the time.  Some are things that are already in their playroom,but that I know they don't play with for extended periods of time (trains, megablocks).  All are things I already have (Did I mention a tight budget?).

Once all the free events at local stores, libraries, and museums are up for summertime events, I'll plug them all into a google calendar that I'll reference in making plans.  I'll copy over what I know I'll do to my personal google calendar which syncs with my phone.  I'll keep the other one separate in case plans fall through.  When the calendar is done, I'll link it on this blog so you can enjoy some freebies, too--and help beat that summer slide!