The Thoughts In My Head During Naptime

 

 

I should wake them up so they will sleep tonight.  On second thought, carpe diem, suckas.

I should clean.  What’s on t.v.?

If I play a Sophia the First for her, the show plus commercials will give me a 30 minute nap but a Doc McStuffins triple play…..

I dare you to knock on my door like the FBI one more time, UPS man.

If I hear one more song, sound, or comment from behind her door, there shall be lashes and gnashing of teeth.

Why are they talking to each other?  Can’t they just not like each other like they did 15 minutes ago playing queen mom and daughter?

What is laying around this house I can bribe them with….

I hate Elsa.

Wait a second, it’s been quiet for 10 minutes and I just now noticed.  I better run to bed so I don’t lose one second of sleep because if I do, I’m not talking to myself anymore and we are breaking up.

Dear Lord, Please let them sleep.  Even if it’s just for 30 minutes.  Please let them sleep.  I promise to be a better mom when we they wake up.

Why can’t my house be bigger?  What if I could have a floor for each child to be on and then no one would hear them, they wouldn’t hear each other…. (I get so excited by this thought that I start laughing in a creepy way.  I hear myself and stop.  Back to 2,000 square feet where we’re safe.)

Thinking to myself, “Aw, I bet that look of evil that spreads on my face when I shush them over the sleeping baby I’m holding will mess them up for years.”

“Mom, why do I have to nap?”  Well, first things first, I’m the realest…

“Alright, that’s it!  You’ve lost a privilege!”  Child begins to get upset:  “What privilege, momma?”  Crap.  I should of thought of that in advance.  Uhhhhhh…..I’ll tell you later.

Yeah right, I bet you have to pee.

Oprah voice:  “You get a spanking!  YOU get a spanking.  They all get spankingsssssss!”

If so much as a mouse farts in this house and wakes someone up, I’m calling the police.

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The Problem With Cute Babies: The Imbalance of Public Attention

It’s funny because Eden has always gotten lots of attention with her really big blue-green eyes, funny raspy voice, and for her insane vocabulary since she was a one year old.  Before I had Salem, people were always talking to her in public and commenting on something she was doing or just that they thought she was cute.  Then, that same three-year old today has suddenly become the “older child” and the immediate public attention goes to Salem, my second born.  Salem is 16 months old so she walks with that endearing early toddler gait.  She scrunches up her nose and waves at strangers and says “hey” or “hi”.  She is the tiny one with the tiny baby voice so naturally, people are drawn to the most baby of the children in a family.

People don’t realize that they do it, and I know they mean well but I always sort of have this feeling of, “There’s another very little child standing right next to the baby who is watching you go on about how sweet and cute the other child is.” I can only assume that they must feel like they aren’t as cute when that happens. Eden hasn’t acted out or really ever acted jealous, but even if she’s only feeling it a little, I feel it a lot for her.

When people stop and talk to my kids, which is every time we are out, I watch Eden and I think about how it looks.  People are watching Salem doing tricks and saying, “Oh my gosh, she is so sweet!”, and I see my little still quite young firstborn standing right next to her watching it all. They usually speak to Eden too but it’s almost always AFTER they speak to Salem.  Of course, if someone actually knows my family it’s different but when people stop to bask in the power of a baby, Eden is always second.  I always make sure to add her in with their adoration.  ALWAYS.  I will say, “And this is her big sister and you taught her how to walk like that or say those words, didn’t you?”  I sometimes may say, “Yep, we came here today cause her big sister is using her own money to buy a toy or we came here so her big sister can help me shop, etc.  I want to include her and let her and the admirers know that she is special too even though she walks better, talks better, and so on.  Mainly, it’s just for her to feel special.  I imagine that this only gets worse as they age and, I hate the thought of it.  Eden is gorgeous and funny and just turned three for crying out loud.  She never changed.  She is still just as small as she was before we added a baby but as soon as Salem could start interacting, it all sort of started to shift.  I’m sure it’s confusing to her and I’m sure she’s felt overlooked in public.  Booo,  shoppers, booooooooo!

It’s been in the past two months that I think I’ve noticed this “babies are best” phenomenon in public.  I attribute this to my youngest walking around stores now and to how much more she interacts with strangers.  She is REALLY outgoing and loves to engage people around her.  I love it and they are both so special in their each unique ways but when Eden started using Salem’s baby words a few months ago, it made my heart hurt a little bit.  Sure, it’s normal for any older child to do some of this when they have a baby sibling.  Not only is it normal, it doesn’t mean that they are traumatized inside.  It happens.  Still, when I see Salem get doted on and Eden standing by smiling while she gets adored, and then I hear a 3-year-old who started sentences at 13 months say “mo’ gum” like her baby sister when she wants gum, I notice.  I make it a point to say to her when she does that, “You know how to use big words like a big girl and I love that about you.  You are so smart and mommy worked so hard being your mommy and watching you grow that I am so proud at how big you are and all the things you can do.  Salem is unique because she doesn’t know how to talk like you yet and you are special because you can talk like a big girl.  I love you just how you are! You are so special to me”  I tell her that at least every other day if not daily.

It’s an interesting catch 22 as a mother when this starts happening.  You love your children being loved and you love them being both loved equally. When you see an imbalance in public, it’s something you can’t really address with that person you see in Target who you don’t know from Adam and there’s no point anyways. The only you can do is draw the other child in and build them up, too.

People are always going to be drawn to the littlest among us, even if the difference of age is 23 months between two little people.  This is the sort of thing you worry about happening when you are pregnant with your second child.  It’s not a huge issue but from a mother’s heart and eyes, it still stinks.  We all love babies and we all have to make a special effort to not single a child out when they are with their siblings.  Praise the big kids.  Heck, praise them first!  They know more of what’s going on, anyways.  Tell them their shoes are cool or that they have great manners or a sweet smile.  Pat that cute baby on the head and wave at them, too.  They are ALL a mommy’s babies and all of those kids but even the bigger ones, still have tiny little hearts.

Potty Humor

Eden is a full fledged three year old. She’s stubborn, inquisitive, opinionated, and very independent. She likes sugar and she occasionally likes the word toot. Yes, toot. Now I’m all for not having your kids using “potty words” in front of other kids and families but in the safety of your own home, in moderation, why not? It is innocent really and if I can giggle with my tiny person in her bed when she cuts awkward wind, then so be it.

After all, if you can’t be comfortable in your own home, where can you be? I understand being polite and respectful in public but policing every single moment in the freedom of her little room and our home is not gonna happen with me. Sometimes, I just want to meet her where she’s at…most times actually when it’s concerning play. I want to understand what makes her tic, what hurts her feelings, what makes her smile, and by all means, what makes her laugh. If she misses the toilet because she forgets to scoot back far enough and hits the floor, I’m not going to scold or shame her for being 3. I’m all for a good laugh. Good theology? That I take seriously. Pee? Gas? Not so much.

So right now, just between me and her, Eden thinks the word toot is a funny word. In a totally acceptable amount when it’s just us, we steal a laugh or twenty at it’s expense. She has great manners, respects others, loves and plays with her sister well, and is very respectful of me. She prays for others and prays to God about His power and glory. She’s sweet and well rounded but being three most of the time entails finding laughs in things 30 plus year olds don’t usually get….but I get her. I get three.

Tonight when I left her room, I walked out really funny smacking myself on the toosh while I wobbled out of there. I even stopped under the light of my closet that she can she from her room and did the dance again. It was like my own little dance spot light just for her. She laughed in her bed like Will Ferrel himself had just crawled over her bed rail and left her room. It’s music to my ears and she knows we can be friends and mommy and daughter. There’s a time and a place for some giggles and that time for us is often and we do laughing and crazy well. She won’t have the same sense of humor when she’s 16 because some things are only funny while the heart is still innocent. They lose those tiny hearts that are amused by tiny things soon enough. While she’s still three years and 4 months, I realize that life is too short not to laugh about booties.

Losing Baby: The Death of the Pacifier

I knew when the package arrived that tonight would be the night.  On my front step were the gifts that Santa was going to leave for Eden when he took her box of passies that she had left him.  Straight from Amazon’s North Pole distribution center to my house.

She was sleeping when the packages came with a thud on to my porch.   I was excited to get the gifts but unexpectedly, my heart sank a little bit.  I started to think about how I’ve seen that little precious face of mine with her favorite passy in her mouth every day for the entire three years of her life.  For all different reasons than anticipated, this was starting to feel like it was going to be hard for me, too.

An hour passed as she was taking an unusually long nap.  I tip toed to her bedside and laid beside her and watched her sleep with her blanket by her face and her passy in her mouth.  I felt a lump in my throat.  I reached for my phone to snap one last picture of how I’ve known her all this time just as a sound I made woke her up.  For the last week she hasn’t been allowed to have her pacifier in the car on in the house unless she was sleeping but, I let her have it a while longer this time knowing what was coming.

We went on with our day and I got the Christmas gift box out and left it on the island for her to put her passies in later.

Later that night, we went to the ballpark to eat Dippin’ Dots, popcorn, and dance to the music they play during the game: her favorite.  The night ran a little late so when we came back home, it was already close to bedtime.  I told her on the drive home that we were going to leave her passies for Santa tonight and she cheerfully agreed.  As soon as we walked in I said in my most excited and easy going voice, “Okay, let’s get your passies and put them in the box for Santa!”  She went to the places she had seen some last and plopped them into the box.  I went in to the living room to grab one off of the mantle and as I did, I felt it welling  up in me.  I knew that I was going to cry.  It sort of felt like saying goodbye to someone at the airport who was moving away.  It was the loss of something we both loved: for her the passy and for me, my baby.  I sucked it up, sniffed it back, but the tears were coming down my face.  I tried to keep my voice light and keep moving room to room as I found the one hidden under my pillow, the ones that fell through the crack between the wall and her bed as she tossed and turned at nights, and so on. Honestly, I ached a little to be searching the house for her beloved pass for the last time. She always lights up when we find a passy.

She was so big and handled it so well.  And truly, I guess that’s why I was crying: because she’s so big.  She still loves her pacifier and I know she will probably ask for it tomorrow at nap or when she’s sad or tired but tonight, she gathered them up in a box and left them for Santa.  I told her she could pick anywhere to leave them for him and she chose inside a play tunnel in our living room.  I asked her who she wanted him to give them to and she said, “Baby Tessa because she never has a pass.”  With my red eyes and wet cheeks I told her confidently that it was a great idea.  We put the box in the tunnel and she didn’t ask for them again.

I walked down the hall, again masking my tears, and Lance said as I walked off, “You’re a sweet momma.”

It’s nights like this when you are hiding from your toddler, crying in a bathroom over a 4 dollar Mam pacifier that you realize that motherhood is the most joyful of heartbreaks….a series of advances and retreats, of holding on and letting go….of wanting them to live and grow but bracing your heart for it as they do.   Even now I cry typing this because it’s not about an overpriced pacifier.  It’s not the particular onesie you loved or the crib you didn’t want to take them out of.  It’s the people in them and more specifically, it’s them not needing those things anymore.

This is how we lose our babies.  It’s not only in the simple days that slip by un-noticed.  We lose them mostly in milestones and moments.  It’s in the favorite toy they no longer notice or in closed doors in the bathroom when they potty because they need privacy.  It’s in them leaving the blanket in the bed, making it a whole car ride without noticing or in a pile of pacifiers in an old crumpled Christmas box.

I imagine that a first child growing up and leaving small traces of them being a baby behind is sad because its a tangible way of seeing in time of how far you’ve come from the beginning.  A last child growing up is reminder of how close you’ve come to the end.  Motherhood is the epitome of the fullness of love and all the bitter-sweetness therein. Motherhood is an abundance of the greatest of joys seasoned with some of the mightiest of  aches along the way.  With such a great love, it’s not possible to have it any other way.

Tonight when I layed with Eden in bed pacifier-less and we said our prayers, I asked her what she was thankful for.  She said, “Chicken nuggets, lemonade, french fries and ketchup.”  I told her I was thankful for a big brave girl who rode a roller coaster at the carnival this week and one who gave up her passies without a tear.  She was about three inches from my face and she squinted her eyes up close to mine and grinned.  Then in true toddler fashion she asked me to sing her the National Anthem….twice.  And I did.

As I sang it, I had tears running down my face while I thought more about the moment than about her sudden interest in patriotism.  There she was and there I was in a milestone moment where a little bit of what had been was over.  We know our children are growing but it’s in the tangible acts of them moving on that we sit with the weight of it undeniably.

When the song ended, I kissed her and told her to check the tunnel in the morning and she excitedly squirmed.  I shed a few more silent tears and stepped out of her room.  She never made a peep.

In a twist of real life, it turned out that she was prepared to go without them and in her losing them, I realized that I wasn’t. Because after all, it was never about pacifiers, anyways.  It’s losing the babies who loved them.

 

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Funeral Prep For Passy (Mental Screams)

It’s been three long years with Eden’s beloved pacifier.  I know she is three and that most people have snatched it from their kids by now but she loves it so much and it really is innocent.  Yes, it can make their teeth crooked but 99 percent of people get braces regardless so I’m not that worried about it.  Still, I know it’s better for her oral care if it goes.  Her emotional health however….

She has gone a day or two without it and had it only for sleep.  We did a little stint where she didn’t have it during the day and then we gave it back when her and her sister had the stomach virus and for some reason, she got way more attached to it after a period of not having it as often.  Dang.  Dang you stomach virus.  Dang you absence makes the heart grow fonder.

I feel a little mean taking it from her because she loves it so much.  I feel like I’m taking her favorite stuffed animal and maliciously laughing while I dismember it in front of her.  She will still have her blanket and I told her she can always have blankie and really, I don’t care if she’s 16 with that thing.  Maybe it will detour a few boys along the way if she takes it to high school.  Even still, good ole’ passy that has been there since birth is on its way out and not even the world’s best and most favorite blanket can save it now.

She has chosen the burial service for her beloved pacifiers via leaving them for Santa.  Santa will then leave her a present in return wrapped in Woody wrapping paper as per her request.  That was the same paper from her Christmas presents Christmas morning so double score for me still having some left over.  (And yes, Santa is available for off season drop offs.)

The death of the passy will occur the next week in which I’m sure will be initially sad for us both and then immediately following, the longest nap times and bed times and every second in between for a good week.  Lord, be with us all because parenting is exhausting enough and if a little sucky thing can save you, then by golly, let them suck!  I can guarantee you that is what the lazy angel on my shoulder will be saying.   It’s just so easy and soothing and she loves a Mam SO much.  Oh my gosh, I’m tired just thinking about it.  I can see words like “crazy” and “break down” in my near future.  Funny, I think Eden will be feeling the same way.

I’m going to try to make this as positive and as smooth as positive.  Any personal stories and experiences gladly accepted. If your child had a major love affair with pacifiers, I’m even more interested.  SO thankful that Salem doesn’t take a passy or suck her fingers because chopping her fingers off would have made us both really uncomfortable.

Prepare to meet your demise.  Don’t worry passies; I’m talking about us both.

 

I’ll Give You Til The Count of Three: Patience and Motherhood

If you are being totally transparent with yourself, how patient of a parent are you with your children?  I’m sure this answer depends on several things for several people such as:

What do you consider patient?

Is the child or children are that you are raising difficult?

How many children you have and, something I’m seeing lately in myself, is how old are the children are that you are parenting?

I’ve noticed that the older Eden has gotten, the harder it’s been to remain as consistently patient as I use to be.  The more baby your child is, although exhausting and difficult, it’s more innate for many moms to be more patient.  A baby doesn’t know or understand many of the ways they are wearing you out.   Many of a baby’s behaviors are innocent rather than blatantly disobedient, even though they are frustrating.

Then as they get into their toddler years they get more willful, obstinate, and intentional.  They will yell “NO” and maybe not just at another child but to you!  They become more of challenge and with that, patience becomes all of the sudden more difficult.  I’ve noticed that now that Eden has hit the 3 year old mark, the past few months have been more trying and though I’m not screaming at her or anything, I feel myself losing more composure and temper than I want to.  Patience has become more difficult and lately, in some ways, so has she.  She has started being scared of every noise and now wants her door open at bedtime.  That is fine but the door being open means she hears more sounds at night etc. and we spend a good hour of on and off calling back from the bedroom,

“Mommy, what was that sound?”

“It was the refrigerator door.”

“What was THAT?!”

“It was Dad closing the cereal box.”

You think I’m kidding about the cereal box but that one was for real.  The nights have been longer EVERY night which means more tiring equaling a more tired mommy the next day making patience even more a of challenge.  She has been telling me “no” more frequently and has started arguing about tiny things and wagering everything from how many grapes she can have to where she can eat them and how long she has to eat them before nap/rest time and so on.  Eden is as assertive and stubborn as I can guarantee I was at her age.  She is a really sweet and well mannered child mostly but we have been a funk for a few weeks.

I was talking to some other moms about this recently, ones with pre-teen children, and one of them said, “I use to think I was so patient but it gets so much harder the older they get.”  Even with only two kids in toddler years, I can totally see this.  She went on to say, “You just get so far from when they were babies and it’s just so much harder,”  she said almost somberly.

I’m not there yet but I know what she was saying.  When they are pint sized and even pint sized and more mouthy than you want them to be for a day, they still have cute little round faces, ask innocent and hilarious questions, pull a blanket, and cozy into you.  I can see how ten years after that’s been gone and they are rolling their eyes at you when you tell them to do their homework and smarting off to you under their breath as they walk down the hall, how truly hard that would/will be.  Stubborn, independent children can make the best future leaders, motivators, and CEOs but they had to start as someone’s difficult teenager first.

However, of this I’m sure,  I will fail at being as patient as I want and even as patient as some of you may be with your kids.  I also know that I have a fire in my belly to do the best I can to slug through it all and not have “but it’s been tiring today”, “they were the difficult child”, “she was really pushing my buttons”  etc. as my excuses for me to act poorly.  Our children are such special VULNERABLE, IMPRESSIONABLE, SENSITIVE little souls we have been entrusted with and I want to do so right by them, our God, and the privilege to be their mother.  I don’t say this as some lightweight, “bring it all together closer moment” to passionately end a post because that’s not reality.  Some days I feel like if I have to correct my kids one more time, I will keel over dead.  Discipline done correctly/consistently can be so draining that some days you just let them say “no” and you don’t have it in you to correct them.  “Not today,” you say.  “I can’t do this or deal with anymore today,” you say in your head.   It is so hard sometimes and our actions show that both in how we discipline and how we respond to our kids.  I will fail but I want the overall picture of how I treat my children in my moments of frustrations to reflect a patient, assertive, yet gentle spirit.  I don’t want them to fear me.  I want them to respect me and trust me both when I am happy and when I am frustrated.  I’ve really thought a lot about this lately as I realized that patience with a three year old is much harder than patience with a 1 year old as I’m sure patience has also gotten more difficult having two kids instead of one.

When your children make you angry, how do you look to them from their perspective?  Are you being loving in your discipline and in your authority over your children?  What are your children seeing and learning from your reactions?

I ran across a blog that has somewhat controversial tones in it on parenting (and profanity if you plan on reading it).  She gave a powerful example in her post about someone disciplining their child in public and the double standards people draw with their behaviors in how they treat their kids and how they treat other adults or loved ones when angered.  Here is what she wrote:

“Say I’m in a McDonald’s. In a booth near me is what appears to be a romantically involved man and woman enjoying a meal together. Near the end of the meal, the woman accidentally knocks her soda over and it spills over the table and floor. The man leaps to his feet and yells, “Oh my gosh! I told you to be careful with that!” He grabs her by the arm and drags her out of the booth. “That’s the last time you get to have a medium drink!” He shoves her off to the side while he starts to clean up. “Go stand by the door, we’re going home right now!” After an initial little gasp at the spilled drink, the woman remains silent, body slack, eyes averted.”

(Entire article from lovelivegrow.com can be read here)

I thought it was a profound example.  I don’t condone these behaviors for parents in public or private but isn’t it so easy to be them?  Isn’t easy to get angry at your child for simply being childlike when they knock a drink or rip your curtains or make a bad choice…..fill in the blank. They are innocent things that come with the territory of being a clumsy little one and happen all the time, many times more than once a day.  Take this example and think about how you respond to your children.  Are you creating double standards in your parenting and discipline?  Would you speak to someone else that you love the way you speak to the children you are raising?   Would your attitudes and degree of response be appropriate?  Simply in general, are you treating your kid as if they are an inconvenience or disobedient when they are being just a toddler who spills, trips, falls, gets too loud or too messy?  Even if you know these are normal child behaviors, is your angered response making it look or feel different to them?

I want to be a strong example of patience in motherhood to my children and we all know, it’s just not always that easy.  I long for it though.  The Bible calls for it and because I believe what it says, I desire to reflect godliness to my children when they are tempting me to be otherwise.  Ultimately, you can’t control your children and their choices whether they be 2 or 20 but you can control your response and you will be held accountable for the weight and effects how wisely or poorly you choose YOUR behavior.  Transversely, your response seasons their choices.

That’s not easy and it’s not and shouldn’t be taken lightly.  We are shaping hearts that will be as compassionate, tender, loving, patient, and caring as we are.

We aren’t just raising children; we are making adults.

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Books Your Kids Will Love

I hate to read adult books (and Dora ones to my kids), but I love to read to my children and they LOVE books.  Here are some books I recommend that little ones love, ones that can teach your kids through certain situations, and books you both can enjoy together!

 

1.  I Love You All Day Long

If you have a little one that is about to start day care, pre-school, kindergarten, or just start with a new babysitter, this book is sweet and a great way for them to read about what it will be like when they are away from mom or just a little unsure.  It’s not a therapeutic book, just a typical children’s book with a sweet message talking about a pig who is going to school and doesn’t want to leave his mom.  You will love this sweet story.  Available on Amazon for $5.42 with free shipping at this link.  Not available at Barnes and Noble or Target.  (You can’t really click to see inside the book unless you follow the link to Amazon.)

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2.  Press Here

Have you seen this interactive book?  It is one of the most creative I’ve ever seen.  The kids will do certain things to the book and cause a “reaction” or so they think….Each page will have an action that will say to press a certain a dot to make the dots scatter on the page and then you turn the page and the dots have “scattered”.  It tells you to shake the book, tilt the book, etc. and with each page the dots will shift and move according to their action.  It teaches them to follow certain commands and they think the way the dots change is the coolest.  The author Herve Tullet is a genius!  This book is recently being sold at Target or buy the hardback with free shipping on Amazon for only 9.47 at this link.   This is a great gift to give!

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3.  The Big Picture Story Bible

If you are looking for a GREAT bible that has wonderful pictures, CD stories included, and one that explains the bible in a sound, easy, and effective way to a toddler and up, you must get this bible!  Eden loves her bible and will look at it on her own.  We give these to parents at our church whenever they have a new baby and everyone loves it.  We have owned several bibles but this one is far and away the best one for kindergarten and under.  Because of this bible Eden clearly understands and enjoys reading the bible.  Get it here for 21.29 for the hardcover with CD or get it on your Kindle for only 12 bucks!

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4.  Goldilocks and The Three Dinosaurs:  As Retold by Mo Willems

You know how Shrek has lines of humor in it that only adults will get but it’s clever and fun for everyone?  This author, Mo Willems is the best at simple, fun, funny, and creative kids books that both parents and kids will think are cool.  If I were a children’s book, I would hope to be a Mo Willems one.  ANYTHING by him is great.  Here are three of his books we love and the links with them so you can buy them.   We love to check them out at the library too.

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Purchase link to Amazon.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Purchase link to Amazon.  They have a whole pigeon series.  We recently read this one and loved it.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Purchase link to Amazon.  Seriously.  I even love the name of this book.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

5.  No, David books by David Shannon

These simple books with unique illustrations follow a mischievous little boy who always gets in trouble.  There are very few words and it’s easy read for a quick story unlike Berenstain Bears or the aforementioned, Dora.  Ahhhhhhhhh!   Eden and I will talk about “No, David”  when we are talking about obeying.  I will say, “Oh no, that’s like no, David.”  It actually works, haha!  Perfect for boys and girls and they even have more simplified board books for babies.  Purchase the hardback on Amazon for only 10 bucks and some change here.

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The Bead, The Nose, The Toddler

When it’s 3 hours before a small group of 15 people meet at your house and it’s a mess and you have 4 1/2 pounds of meat to cook, what do you do?  You call the appliance man because the dish washer was leaking last night and the washing machine quit washing two nights ago.  Then after your house is crazy and you called a man to come fix your crazy house, you sit on the couch and enters your 2 year old.

“Get this out of my nose.”

“What?  Snotties? Where is it?”
I was confused because Eden typically enjoys her own booger extractions and has never asked me to go up in her nose and get one.

“It’s up there she said.”

“Eden, what’s up there?”

“A bead.”

“You stuck a bead up your nose???  From where?”

Eden handed me a strand of line with one lone bead left on the end.  Holy beads.

I laid her on the couch to look up her tiny nose and there just past the nostril in the nasal cavity, I saw the glittering iridescence of an old large faceted bead.  Yes, old.  It was a bead from my great, great, great, great somebody or other’s necklace.  Yes, large.  I mean, large for a bead like a small pea in a tiny nose and it was faceted like a Tiffany’s diamond which was great for added comfort.

I tried to get it out by pressing down towards the nostril.  Didn’t move.  Tried the bulb syringe.  Didn’t budge.  Tried to have her blow her nose but you know these toddlers don’t get blowing for a bit.  She actually would suck in trying to imitate the sound of my blowing out.  It was super helpful.

I did not want to take her to the ER and I didn’t want to hurt her nose worse.  She was slowly being traumatized because I was holding her down with my thighs, elbow, arms, and all appendages just trying to her let me get a looksie.  I knew a doctor would get a bigger fight than she was giving me so I dreaded taking her in with a big momma pit in my stomach but the doctor said ER or Urgent Care so away we went.

When we got to the chamber of disease where people were breathing flu into the air from their bathrobes and house shoes, I mean Urgent Care,  Eden was real spirited and funny.   She hopped right back to the doctor’s office and climbed up on the table awaiting bead extraction.   While we waited, Lance was not happy we were there.  We had a lot to do in 2 hours and after all, it is ridiculous to stick a bead up your nose.  You never know what you will be doing in a day with young kids.  Sticking antique clear beads up our noses slipped my mind when making the agenda.  Still, it happened. It was sort of funny to say out loud so we might as well enjoy the ride of the young years of our children’s lives.

Before the doctor came in, they pulled a floor length curtain in front of the door.  Eden saw it and after watching Olivia’s Fashion Show, she knew what the curtain was meant for.

“Mommy, Daddy, get behind the curtain the fashion show is about to begin.”

We got behind the curtain and waited for Eden to call us.

“Lance, seriously, one day we will wish we could have a day with Eden with a bead up her nose so let’s just enjoy these funny moments.”

From in front the curtain Eden called, “Daddy”, calling him to the cat walk.

Because I’m hilarious I did the catwalk commentary from behind the curtain.

“Lance is sporting good spirits and a purple tie.”

“Now, Mommy, it’s your turn!”

No one did my commentary which is disappointing because I did some ghetto dance moves and a few spins.

We did this fashion show about three times.  Eden was standing on the step the you can use to get on the exam table like she was at a podium on stage.  We walked out for our last fashion run and she jumped up and down and with snot lubrication, a single bead effortlessly fell out of her nose and bounced across the floor like a pebble on water.

“It fell out,” I yelled!

Lance and I just looked at each other and laughed like, “Are you kidding me?”

With the bead still rolling on the floor and with perfect, oblivious timing, Eden stood on her exam table perch with arms stretched above her head and yelled in a circus ringmaster voice, “And the fashion show is OVERRRRRRRRRRRRR!”

She hopped down and immediately walked out of the room like she owned the place as if the only reason we had come was for a fashion show.

We found the nurse, got out for free, and with a happy toddler, and a bead in my pocket, the nostril bead experience had come to an end.

It fell out…

with snot…

during a fashion show.

At least she kept it creative.  I’m always one to give bonus points for extra touches of flare.  This craft involved elements of surprise and beads so…..yeah, she’s my daughter.

On the way home I just laughed.  She told me as we drove that she had five beads up her nose which made me glad toddlers are in to pretend and liars.  For those of you who think she might have, she didn’t.  The only thing glistening were shimmering waves of snot above the fruited plain.

So, if this ever happens to you, watch Olivia pig and have fashion week at the gathering of the diseased.  You are welcome in advance.

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Thurrr she blows!!!!! This is the clear bead next to an eraser tip.  Sorry for the shabby eraser.  I don’t just have tons of pencils sitting around.  What do you think I am, Amish?

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