Alabaster Mom

My list of "oh, I'd never do that" edicts is growing ever shorter, mostly because I've now done (or am planning to do) just about everything on it. Everything except stuff like "shooting heroin" and "wearing a thong" - those items are still safe. I bought a mini-van, so I had to take that one off. This item used to be on the list: "I would never use a harness on my child." Technically it is still on the list but is slated to come off by the end of the year, I suspect. And here's why: I've got a runner on my hands. Oh, how the mighty have fallen. I used to look at "those" parents and think, geez, can't they control their child without putting him on a leash? A's latest thing is breaking away from me on walks and running up to strangers' houses. I think she knows that I find it embarrassing to pull her off the doorstep of some oogy neighbor's house, while the oogy neighbor watches the whole scene through th...

We now have a syrup incident to go along with the rotini incident. Last night I had to run to the store to buy dog food and diapers (because the people in our home who need these items refuse to go and get them for themselves). When I got home the first thing I heard was, "You won't believe what your kid just did." DH swears he left the kid unattended for mere seconds (which was later amended to, "Okay, maybe three or five minutes.") As he rounded the corner into the kitchen to see what all the silence was about, he found her standing in front of the pantry. She had the pancake syrup in her hand, lid off, completely inverted. She was drinking it. She had also poured copious amounts into the dogs' water bowl (because, hey, it would be great fun if EVERYONE got a sugar buzz before bedtime). Her father had made some kind of effort to clean everything up so I mopped and then started Shout maneuvers on the shirt she had been wearing. He then gave her a b...

LESSON FOR THE DAY When you pour an entire box of rainbow rotini on the floor and then stomp all over the dry pasta . . . You get a ticket straight to Timeoutville . . .

Today is the fourth day of "mommy and me" togetherness while P is in Vegas. I am gaining a whole new respect for single parents. Ever since A was born, the division of labor has remained much the same: I keep her alive from day to day and he . . . plays with her. Keeping her occupied, however, is no small feat and I don't want to downplay his contribution at all. I mean, there's something to be said for his ability to sit on his ass and make block towers with the kid while I do 14,000 loads of laundry and mop the floor - at the same time. Last night I decided to take her to Red Robin for dinner. Tragically, the host sat a couple who appeared to be on a date right next to us. After spending 40 minutes sitting so close to my kid I predict that they either a) broke up in the parking lot or b) agreed to stay together but vowed never to reproduce. A was in rare form. She started out okay but it was all downhill from there (or maybe uphill is a better description?). She thr...

My other half is leaving for Vegas tomorrow morning so it'll be just me and the kid for 5 days. I normally do all the day-to-day care stuff, so that's fine. But just keeping her occupied by myself for that long is going to be challenging. For starters, the kid talks too much. I saw this t-shirt and seriously considered getting it for A: The kid literally does not take a breath. She talks from 6 a.m. to 9 p.m. (we put her to bed at 8 but she talks to herself for another hour after that). The other day I took her to the doctor's office after I became concerned about a possible urinary tract infection. Our regular doctor wasn't available so we saw a Nurse Practitioner, who had never met my daughter. After a few minutes the NP looked down at A's file and said, "Did she really just turn 2 in May?" I confirmed that indeed, the kid is only 2. I know this makes me sound like a braggy mom but the NP was blown away by A's vocabulary and articulation. T...

He who has no sense Here is the kind of week I had: We decided to test Gideon, our Boxer, to see if he could be trusted out of his crate. We put up a baby gate to restrict his access. First day, fine. Second day, not so fine. I came home to see the custom blinds in my front window totally destroyed. I'm not even sure a grown man could bend them to that extent. The little moron starts more obedience classes next week. Oh, did I forget to add that he beheaded an Elmo toy while he was on his little rampage? The kid asked me "why" for the first time. I think you'll agree that this is the beginning of the end (of my sanity). Up until now she has been content simply to disobey all orders and requests ("Would you please pick up your toys?" "No, Mama.") And now she needs to call into question their very merit by asking why? Oy . My big black dog, Karl, is blowing his coat. I don't know what kind of dog he is, but he's double-coated. Double-coated b...

I just called the local YMCA a few minutes ago to sign the short one up for a "Tumble Bugs" class starting in September (yes, I know she didn't master a single skill in the last class, but at least she has fun when she wastes our money). I gave the nice lady my name. And then the nice lady on the phone asked me, "Is that Claudia with a K or a C?" What the? The thing is, this is not the first time I have been asked this. The lady told me that her granddaughter is named Klaudia . It's an abomination, I tell you. My name has been passed down in my family for several generations (from a great-grandfather named Claude to my grandmother to me). It's a classic Latin name. To spell it with a K is to spark the downfall of civilization. If you've never visited the classic site "Baby's Named a Bad Bad Thing (a Primer on Parent Cruelty)," you gotta check it out: http://notwithoutmyhandbag.com/babynames/ There is nothing I can say about the recent t...