Thanksgiving Eve. Lots to think about today! After today, I will have 11 whole days off. I would like to think it will involve lots of R&R, but, in thinking about the "Must Absolutely Without Exception Get Done!!!!!" list, I don't think too much lying about eating bon bons will happen.
Last year, for the month of November, I did the whole '30 days of thankfulness' thing on facebook. It was exhausting. I had no idea I was such an ungrateful wretch, when I realized halfway through the month that I was having a terrible time coming up with things I oughta be thankful for. How terrible is that?
This year, I have been thinking a lot about poor people. Not the ones that are depicted in homeless shelters, as widowed women, thrown out of their homes, with little children in rags and bare feet. Or, the same family, huddled around a barrel of fire, in the projects someplace, with rags, bare feet and snow whipping around.
I have been thinking about a huge part of society that just cannot make ends meet. And another part of society that sneers in disgust at them. Those same people that feel all warm and fuzzy, when they throw money in the Salvation Army Kettle, or donate a toy or a can of food to the bins at the front of the stores, collecting for the poor. The same people that feel lighter than air, when they adopt a child or family from a Giving Tree.
I see a disturbing trend on Facebook, in conversations, and in general that show a generalized disgust and judgement of the poor. We live in a very poor area. One of the poorest in the state. One of the most expensive states to live in. Daily, I see and hear of the struggles of people trying to survive in day to day life. People that make decent wages, but still cannot make ends meet. Or people that work, but still need supplemental assistance, because, in the tenuous job market, and low wages of today, it just. isn't. enough.
The comments of "Well, I cannot believe they had the NERVE to buy that! That's MY tax money, paying for it!"
"Can you believe they took their kids to the beach?! They had no business wasting the gas money!"
"They bought COOKIES! Shouldn't they be buying nutritious things???"
"Their kids had the NERVE to ask for THAT for Christmas? THOSE people don't deserve expensive things! They should be asking for practical things!" (Because we all know that little kids who are poor should know to ask Santa for new socks, rather than a skateboard...)
"I was in line, and behind someone using their food stamp card, and couldn't believe what they were buying!!"
And on and on. While I realize that lots of people abuse the system, there are lots and lots more, that don't. And who have kids. Maybe their kids have gone without for a long time, and yes, Mom feels absolutely like the worst Mother ever, for having kids that never seem to have a treat. And she had the nerve, to buy them cookies. Or a Mom who is working doubles and over night, and then taking care of her kids all day, and who has had no sleep, who bought Monster Energy drinks. Or the kids who sat home all summer, and whose parent's finally decided to spurge, and take the kids to the beach for a well deserved day of fun. All scenarios that have happened lately. And the comments of "Well, if you can't feed 'em, don't breed 'em" Well, isn't that nice. "Not my problem. I PAY my bills! And I work hard! Get a job!" Maybe they HAD jobs. Maybe they lost their jobs. Maybe they are working as hard as they can, but just don't make enough. No one knows the story behind the card. And no one seems to understand the humiliation and swallowing of pride that lots of these people feel, in having to stand in at the cash register under the disgusted, judgemental sneers of the people behind them. To know that everything they just bought is now under scrutiny, because now they have 'the card'. The comments that maybe they should shop at a discount grocer, instead of the nicer high end stores. They should know better. Because, you know, "Those people" and their dirty little children don't deserve good foods.
Society seems to have the idea that, poor people have no business acting or living like those that aren't. It seems that, if poor people aren't acting poor enough, sad enough, grateful for the foods that people donate because they have no intention of every eating it, because "What was I THINKING when I bought this???", then, they are lower than any form of contempt. They are trash. Their children are trash, and they will always be trash. How DARE they laugh, have fun, have birthday parties, try to have nice things??
There are poor people out there who DON'T have welfare. They don't qualify. They don't make enough to make ends meet. If you look hard enough, you will see them. In the stores, wandering the isles with their kids begging for a treat, while mentally adding up the totals in their heads. Holding their breaths, while praying with fingers crossed that their bank card goes through. The tears, when it doesn't. The looks from the cashier and other customers, as they have to walk away from a cartload of groceries. The eye rolls they endure, while their kids ask how they are going to eat now? And, announce their teacher said they HAD to bring in a snack!
So. I see the 30 days of Thankfulness on Facebook. Intertwined with outrage over people on welfare. Intertwined with proud announcements of 'teaching my kids to donate to the less fortunate' which, evidently means only those poor widow women around the burn barrel with barefoot children in the snow. Have a heart! The vast majority of poor people are struggling. They are friends and neighbors who are trying. And sometimes, they just cannot make ends meet. It doesn't mean that poor people don't deserve the occasional treat. Or that their children don't deserve nice things sometimes. The stories I hear constantly from people you never would expect it from, of struggling to make ends meet, put food on the table, buy shoes and boots for their kids, keep the utilities on, and try to sleep at night, make me think that this problem is entirely more prevalent than anyone even suspects. White collar workers, blue collar workers. It effects entirely more than most even suspect. You would be surprised how many of your friends and family are scraping along for dinner.
Maybe, just maybe this holiday season, when donating, or standing behind someone who is just trying to put dinner on the table, instead of damning them for the occasional splurge, or judging those purchases, more people will try and be a little more understanding, considerate, and open minded. What is the point of donating to charity, of you are going to condemn those who need to use it?
This is not in defense of those who abuse it. Just in those that need it, and are treated like 2nd class citizens because of it.
Holy rant! It's just been bothering me lately. Hopefully we are all grateful for something this Holiday season. And hopefully you all have a nice dinner on the table. And hopefully, if just ONE person could maybe be a little more tolerant this season of people that they would have otherwise have had less than charitable thoughts about, it will make a huge difference in someones life. Sometimes an understanding smile, instead of an assuming, judgemental frown, can make all the difference in someones day. Life. Outlook.
Happy Thanksgiving!
Wednesday, November 27, 2013
Sunday, November 17, 2013
The Theater, The Theater
With Kaila finally in the "Big School" this year, she was able to participate in the school play. A few years ago, our Middle High school put in a big, beautiful, state of the art auditorium, and have been putting on spectacular school plays. When I went to NYC this past spring, and saw the Phantom of the Opera, I was actually shocked at the tiny somewhat worn theater, compared to our school theater back home. Anyhow, Kaila thinks maybe show business and singing may be for her. So, she is in chorus, band and, signed up for the school play. And to go see all the big Broadway shows at Shea's in Buffalo, with the school.
I was hesitant, as, Kaila already has a pretty full plate, but, she was all for it. The Pirates of Penzance was the play selection this year. My kid made her debut in an operetta. A pretty big undertaking for Middle/High kids!
For the last 2 months, Kaila has had daily practices. Every evening for 2 hours, then 4 hours, and then on weekends. Sometimes for more than 5 hours. The poor kid was just exhausted. Some nights I was waiting up for her to finish late night home work sessions, so we could go to bed.
Through it all, Kaila would come home fuming about one of the other pirates. Evidently he spent the last 2 months tormenting her. He didn't think a girl should be playing a pirate. (She was the only girl pirate) He thought she was too young (he is a grade ahead of her) He wanted her sword. He announced he didn't like her. He called her names. A serious feud between these two pirates was forged.
Last week, Kaila came home completely despondent. This other pirate had pointed out that, at the end of the show, everyone is dancing with a partner. Except himself and Kaila. And, that he thought it would be a good idea for the two of them to have to waltz, too. Kaila was adamant. This was NOT happening. Absolutely no way, was she dancing with the boy who had been torturing her for two months strait. This was catastrophic.
Then, the night before the play, Kaila came bounding into my truck all smiles after practice. And announced she didn't have to dance with "That Boy" anymore, as he had broken his leg during wrestling. The relief was great. Now she could enjoy the play. Also, she had found out that she was in the top 10 in her grade for Science! I was so happy she was keeping up with her grades, with the commitment to this play.
The day of the play dawned, and the E Mails began. "Hi Mom! Andrew wants to come to the play. He doesn't have a ride. Could you pick him up and bring him? Please?"
"Hi Kaila, I will call his Mom."
"Hi! This is Andy! Can you pick me up from wrestling practice at 5:00 if I can go? It's at the elementary school. If I can't go, can you just tell me how great she was?"
OMG. How can I NOT take this poor kid along, after that? So, I called his mother, and got permission.
"Hi Andy! We are going to pick you up and bring you to our house for dinner, then you can go with us to the play. "
"Ummm. What's for dinner?" Really? No pressure there. His mom only butchers her own meat, has laying chickens, milks her cow and goats, makes her own yogurt and cheese, grows her own veggies and herbs.....
"Frozen Wal Mart pizza"
"Okay! See you later!"
When I arrived home from work, this kid was in the kitchen, already friends with Kaila's dog, and soaking up anything and everything we had to say about Kaila. He was such a personable kid. Completely at ease. Until Bearded Man mentioned that Kaila was pretty upset, as the kid with the broken leg was STILL in the play. And worried she would still have to dance with him.
"WHAT? Kaila can't dance! She has two left feet! I had to DRAG her to the dance floor at the Homecoming dance! Who is she dancing with?"
We told him.
"WHO? Oh no! He is a big kid! Between his broken bone and Kaila not being able to dance, he is going to fall and hurt her! She should NOT be allowed to dance with him! It's dangerous! Besides, he is not a nice boy. You should not let them dance. It's not safe!"
With a hidden grin, I assured him it would all work out okay.
The play went along without a hitch. Kaila looked so pretty up on stage in all her pirate gear. And, I had to appreciate a kid who had just broken a bone and was still able to participate in this play, crutch under one arm. I decided Kaila probably had been exaggerating a little. The end of the play, I happen to notice Kaila nonchalantly side step around another pirate, neatly putting him between herself and the pirate on the crutch. And I watch the pirate on the crutch look over at Kaila, who was studiously ignoring him. And then I watch him step around the pirate between them, glaring at Kaila. Who promptly scowled back at him. He sidled closer to Kaila, who side stepped away. Earning another glare, which was immediately returned with a look that clearly states "Come near me again, and I will break your other leg, and finish you off by beating you with your own crutch." He determinedly grabbed her and tried to get closer, as everyone danced around them, Kaila shoots him another look, shrugs away, and steps to the side again. I was laughing with tears streaming down my face, and stole a quick peak at Andrew. Who was sitting on the edge of his seat, watching the whole thing intently with narrowed eyes. For the next several minutes, the boy on the stage tried his best to get next to Kaila to sway alongside her for the end of the show, and my kid tried her best to not have to touch him at all, the two of them glaring murderously at each other the entire time.
At the end of the day, I am a mom. And I am a nurse. And I realize that the poor boy on the crutch is probably in a lot of pain and functioning on pain killers. My daughter needed to be nice. So, I instruct her to behave and be nice to this poor kid the next night during the play. I pointed out that, when she broke her wrist 2 years ago, she cried for days and was completely unable to function. This boy was in the school play in a heavy costume the day after breaking a bone! I didn't think it was a broken leg, but, he had definitely broken something near his foot.
The next night the play seemed to be going well. They were actually smiling at each other on stage! I was hopeful that the end would be better the second night than it had the first. The second night, the pirate on the crutch was not wearing a fake beard, and I was kind of surprised by how grown up this kid looked. Wasn't he only supposed to be 13?
As they headed into the end of the play, and into the dance scene, I held my breath. And tried not to laugh. I watched my daughter tense up as the pirate on the crutch sent a look her way. I watched her face change from happy to blank, as the pirate came closer. She did not step away, but did lean away a little. And became completely stiff, staring into the distance, refusing to sway with him. He kept getting closer and closer, and I saw her jaw tense as she glared into the distance. Even I was becoming alarmed, watching this boy edge closer and closer, glaring at Kaila the entire time. Who absolutely refused to look at him. Oh goodness. I took a picture, and figured it was in that boy's best interest to make himself scarce after the show. I wasn't too sure I would rescue the boy again.
After the show, Kaila came and found me, and dragged me into the dressing room, completely excited and riding high from the play. As she went to change out of her costume, the boy on crutches hobbled in.
"Hello. How are you holding up?" I ask, determined to give him the benefit of the doubt
"Fine" He bit back
"Good for you, still doing the play with a fresh break! Good job!"
"Eh."
"What did you break?"
"Ankle."
At this point, Kaila walked back in, breezing by him toward me, to hang up her costume. He sent another glare her way, included me in it, and left the room. Came back in a few minutes later, as we were getting ready to leave. "Bye!" I said. He shrugged, scowled at my kid once more, and we were gone.
"Mom. I have to tell you something."
"What's that, Kaila?"
"You said I couldn't step away, and to be nice up on stage during the dance thing."
"Yes. You didn't look at him quite like you were going to beat him to death with his crutches tonight."
"Well. He kept getting closer and closer and closer. So, I had my hands on my sword, between us. You know, still in the sheath? Well, I just kept swaying with him and swinging my hands and body enough to hit him as hard as I could with it. I figured he would stop getting so close. And it worked!"
Oh goodness. What do you say? She can certainly hold her own.
On my way out the door to the play last night, Bearded Man's sister came over with a wrapped package for me. It had circles with things written on them taped all over it. "What's this?"
"My friend sometimes reads your Blogs with me. She sent this over for you!"
Upon opening it, I discover a book titled "1001 Things it Means to be a Mom" Wow! How neat was that??
Some of my favorite gems from the book so far?
Being a Mom means deciding that this whole "Balanced Life" thing is a myth
Being a mom means explaining to your toddler why people don't swing on chandeliers
Being a mom means suddenly realizing that your child has spent two hours drawing on himself with permanent markers
Being a Mom means believing your children are hearing impaired since they don't seem to hear a thing you say.
Loving this book! So, thank you, Marrilee! It is much appreciated!
I was hesitant, as, Kaila already has a pretty full plate, but, she was all for it. The Pirates of Penzance was the play selection this year. My kid made her debut in an operetta. A pretty big undertaking for Middle/High kids!
For the last 2 months, Kaila has had daily practices. Every evening for 2 hours, then 4 hours, and then on weekends. Sometimes for more than 5 hours. The poor kid was just exhausted. Some nights I was waiting up for her to finish late night home work sessions, so we could go to bed.
Through it all, Kaila would come home fuming about one of the other pirates. Evidently he spent the last 2 months tormenting her. He didn't think a girl should be playing a pirate. (She was the only girl pirate) He thought she was too young (he is a grade ahead of her) He wanted her sword. He announced he didn't like her. He called her names. A serious feud between these two pirates was forged.
Last week, Kaila came home completely despondent. This other pirate had pointed out that, at the end of the show, everyone is dancing with a partner. Except himself and Kaila. And, that he thought it would be a good idea for the two of them to have to waltz, too. Kaila was adamant. This was NOT happening. Absolutely no way, was she dancing with the boy who had been torturing her for two months strait. This was catastrophic.
Then, the night before the play, Kaila came bounding into my truck all smiles after practice. And announced she didn't have to dance with "That Boy" anymore, as he had broken his leg during wrestling. The relief was great. Now she could enjoy the play. Also, she had found out that she was in the top 10 in her grade for Science! I was so happy she was keeping up with her grades, with the commitment to this play.
The day of the play dawned, and the E Mails began. "Hi Mom! Andrew wants to come to the play. He doesn't have a ride. Could you pick him up and bring him? Please?"
"Hi Kaila, I will call his Mom."
"Hi! This is Andy! Can you pick me up from wrestling practice at 5:00 if I can go? It's at the elementary school. If I can't go, can you just tell me how great she was?"
OMG. How can I NOT take this poor kid along, after that? So, I called his mother, and got permission.
"Hi Andy! We are going to pick you up and bring you to our house for dinner, then you can go with us to the play. "
"Ummm. What's for dinner?" Really? No pressure there. His mom only butchers her own meat, has laying chickens, milks her cow and goats, makes her own yogurt and cheese, grows her own veggies and herbs.....
"Frozen Wal Mart pizza"
"Okay! See you later!"
When I arrived home from work, this kid was in the kitchen, already friends with Kaila's dog, and soaking up anything and everything we had to say about Kaila. He was such a personable kid. Completely at ease. Until Bearded Man mentioned that Kaila was pretty upset, as the kid with the broken leg was STILL in the play. And worried she would still have to dance with him.
"WHAT? Kaila can't dance! She has two left feet! I had to DRAG her to the dance floor at the Homecoming dance! Who is she dancing with?"
We told him.
"WHO? Oh no! He is a big kid! Between his broken bone and Kaila not being able to dance, he is going to fall and hurt her! She should NOT be allowed to dance with him! It's dangerous! Besides, he is not a nice boy. You should not let them dance. It's not safe!"
With a hidden grin, I assured him it would all work out okay.
The play went along without a hitch. Kaila looked so pretty up on stage in all her pirate gear. And, I had to appreciate a kid who had just broken a bone and was still able to participate in this play, crutch under one arm. I decided Kaila probably had been exaggerating a little. The end of the play, I happen to notice Kaila nonchalantly side step around another pirate, neatly putting him between herself and the pirate on the crutch. And I watch the pirate on the crutch look over at Kaila, who was studiously ignoring him. And then I watch him step around the pirate between them, glaring at Kaila. Who promptly scowled back at him. He sidled closer to Kaila, who side stepped away. Earning another glare, which was immediately returned with a look that clearly states "Come near me again, and I will break your other leg, and finish you off by beating you with your own crutch." He determinedly grabbed her and tried to get closer, as everyone danced around them, Kaila shoots him another look, shrugs away, and steps to the side again. I was laughing with tears streaming down my face, and stole a quick peak at Andrew. Who was sitting on the edge of his seat, watching the whole thing intently with narrowed eyes. For the next several minutes, the boy on the stage tried his best to get next to Kaila to sway alongside her for the end of the show, and my kid tried her best to not have to touch him at all, the two of them glaring murderously at each other the entire time.
At the end of the day, I am a mom. And I am a nurse. And I realize that the poor boy on the crutch is probably in a lot of pain and functioning on pain killers. My daughter needed to be nice. So, I instruct her to behave and be nice to this poor kid the next night during the play. I pointed out that, when she broke her wrist 2 years ago, she cried for days and was completely unable to function. This boy was in the school play in a heavy costume the day after breaking a bone! I didn't think it was a broken leg, but, he had definitely broken something near his foot.
The next night the play seemed to be going well. They were actually smiling at each other on stage! I was hopeful that the end would be better the second night than it had the first. The second night, the pirate on the crutch was not wearing a fake beard, and I was kind of surprised by how grown up this kid looked. Wasn't he only supposed to be 13?
As they headed into the end of the play, and into the dance scene, I held my breath. And tried not to laugh. I watched my daughter tense up as the pirate on the crutch sent a look her way. I watched her face change from happy to blank, as the pirate came closer. She did not step away, but did lean away a little. And became completely stiff, staring into the distance, refusing to sway with him. He kept getting closer and closer, and I saw her jaw tense as she glared into the distance. Even I was becoming alarmed, watching this boy edge closer and closer, glaring at Kaila the entire time. Who absolutely refused to look at him. Oh goodness. I took a picture, and figured it was in that boy's best interest to make himself scarce after the show. I wasn't too sure I would rescue the boy again.
After the show, Kaila came and found me, and dragged me into the dressing room, completely excited and riding high from the play. As she went to change out of her costume, the boy on crutches hobbled in.
"Hello. How are you holding up?" I ask, determined to give him the benefit of the doubt
"Fine" He bit back
"Good for you, still doing the play with a fresh break! Good job!"
"Eh."
"What did you break?"
"Ankle."
At this point, Kaila walked back in, breezing by him toward me, to hang up her costume. He sent another glare her way, included me in it, and left the room. Came back in a few minutes later, as we were getting ready to leave. "Bye!" I said. He shrugged, scowled at my kid once more, and we were gone.
"Mom. I have to tell you something."
"What's that, Kaila?"
"You said I couldn't step away, and to be nice up on stage during the dance thing."
"Yes. You didn't look at him quite like you were going to beat him to death with his crutches tonight."
"Well. He kept getting closer and closer and closer. So, I had my hands on my sword, between us. You know, still in the sheath? Well, I just kept swaying with him and swinging my hands and body enough to hit him as hard as I could with it. I figured he would stop getting so close. And it worked!"
Oh goodness. What do you say? She can certainly hold her own.
On my way out the door to the play last night, Bearded Man's sister came over with a wrapped package for me. It had circles with things written on them taped all over it. "What's this?"
"My friend sometimes reads your Blogs with me. She sent this over for you!"
Upon opening it, I discover a book titled "1001 Things it Means to be a Mom" Wow! How neat was that??
Some of my favorite gems from the book so far?
Being a Mom means deciding that this whole "Balanced Life" thing is a myth
Being a mom means explaining to your toddler why people don't swing on chandeliers
Being a mom means suddenly realizing that your child has spent two hours drawing on himself with permanent markers
Being a Mom means believing your children are hearing impaired since they don't seem to hear a thing you say.
Loving this book! So, thank you, Marrilee! It is much appreciated!
Thursday, November 7, 2013
Ohhhh, George.
Recently I posted on Facebook that, it was in George's best interest that I had to work that day. By 7:00 AM, I had had it with the child. No charming smiles or big blue not so innocent eyes were melting me that day. I stomped out of the house fuming. Because, in the last week or so he has:
Taken a Sharpie marker to the (stainless steel) refrigerator, the hardwood floors in the living room, the stair posts, the kitchen table. AND benches. Both of them. The TV screen, The wall paper, several books, and important papers, his face, arms and belly, the couch (You know, the one I am still paying for????) and assorted toys. I probably missed a few things in there.
He has also: dug several different kinds of light bulbs out of the kitchen cupboard, the one above the counters. Where the light bulbs are kept on the top shelf, out of normal children's reach, and then thrown them down the stairs, to see if/how they break. It seems the bigger they are, the worse the damage. The night light bulbs fare best. It takes a few tumbles and a pretty hard throw, to get them to break.
Thrown matchbox cars at his siblings
purposely erased the only game I play - 557 levels and more than 2 million points - off the ipad. It's gone. He's grounded from it indefinitely.
Knocked over an entire gallon pitcher of iced tea all over the dining room
Poured bottles of water in large puddles in several different rooms, "Just because"
Cheerfully taken his siblings' Halloween candy and, either eaten it, or handed it out to whomever it doesn't belong to.
Tormented his brother at 5:30 in the morning, by turning the TV off, and standing in front of it. Causing unholy shrieking and screaming by Joe, thus waking up the entire household
Informed all and sundry that he could really use an ice cold beer. (Thank you, Blake Shelton, and your "Boys 'Round Here" song.) Insisting he is a man, and should be allowed to drink one occasionally.
I could probably go on and on for some time. Usually, the child manages to pull it all off with such charm and charisma, that he gets off pitifully easily. Not lately. My older sister thinks he is the coolest thing ever, and offered to take him. I said she would not only send him back, but bill me for the damages, as well.
Yesterday I took a mental health and catch up on laundry day off of work. George and I had a serious discussion about Santa Claus.
"Mom. If you don't know where to put the Christmas tree this year, you can put it in my room. And all the presents under my bed."
"Oh yeah? You are aware that Santa only brings presents to GOOD kids, right?"
Enthusiastic nodding, "Yep!"
"And, do you think you have been really really good this year?"
"Yep!" More nodding.
"Soooooo, what do you think Santa will think about all the marker all over the house? Or the stamp prints all the way up the stair wall? You know, the green stamp marks you made aaaallll the way up the stairs?"
"Get me some tape, and I will cover it up. Santa will never know. And, I will give him extra cookies."
The thought you are all thinking right now is, "Where the heck are the parents, while this child is getting into all this trouble? Your 3 year old cannot do this all, unless he is being completely neglected! What the heck kind of parents are you?? It's a wonder the poor child hasn't fallen off the counter, or cut himself on the broken light bulb glass!"
The thing is; We ARE there! usually within a few feet, or right in the next room, or even in the same room. He is just so QUIET about it, that you don't see it, till it's too late. And, a lot of times, these things happen when I am not at home. His favorite lines in times of trouble are "A NINJA did it, Mom!!! I SAW him!" or, "You didn't SEE me do it, so, you can't know I did it." Followed by: "You did not get any snuggles today. Lets go snuggle now!"
He isn't ALL bad though. He knew I recently had a bad day at work, and not only let me play with his monster trucks, but got up no less than 4 times throughout the night, to make sure I was okay. "Mom. Mom! MOM!! Are you asleep? I think I should come in bed with you, so you don't have a bad night. Is your day better? Are you still having a bad day? I will make you feel better. I just need to... MOM! MOVE. OVER!!!! I AM TRYING TO MAKE YOU FEEL BETTER!!! There. Okay. I am all snuggled in now. Feel better, Mom?"
"Mom. I have to go potty now."
"Uuuggghh. Then go downstairs and go potty."
"You need to come with me."
"Uggghhh."
I can only imagine what the teen years with this child will be like. My goal is to just get him to adulthood on the right side of the law, and in one piece.
Taken a Sharpie marker to the (stainless steel) refrigerator, the hardwood floors in the living room, the stair posts, the kitchen table. AND benches. Both of them. The TV screen, The wall paper, several books, and important papers, his face, arms and belly, the couch (You know, the one I am still paying for????) and assorted toys. I probably missed a few things in there.
He has also: dug several different kinds of light bulbs out of the kitchen cupboard, the one above the counters. Where the light bulbs are kept on the top shelf, out of normal children's reach, and then thrown them down the stairs, to see if/how they break. It seems the bigger they are, the worse the damage. The night light bulbs fare best. It takes a few tumbles and a pretty hard throw, to get them to break.
Thrown matchbox cars at his siblings
purposely erased the only game I play - 557 levels and more than 2 million points - off the ipad. It's gone. He's grounded from it indefinitely.
Knocked over an entire gallon pitcher of iced tea all over the dining room
Poured bottles of water in large puddles in several different rooms, "Just because"
Cheerfully taken his siblings' Halloween candy and, either eaten it, or handed it out to whomever it doesn't belong to.
Tormented his brother at 5:30 in the morning, by turning the TV off, and standing in front of it. Causing unholy shrieking and screaming by Joe, thus waking up the entire household
Informed all and sundry that he could really use an ice cold beer. (Thank you, Blake Shelton, and your "Boys 'Round Here" song.) Insisting he is a man, and should be allowed to drink one occasionally.
I could probably go on and on for some time. Usually, the child manages to pull it all off with such charm and charisma, that he gets off pitifully easily. Not lately. My older sister thinks he is the coolest thing ever, and offered to take him. I said she would not only send him back, but bill me for the damages, as well.
Yesterday I took a mental health and catch up on laundry day off of work. George and I had a serious discussion about Santa Claus.
"Mom. If you don't know where to put the Christmas tree this year, you can put it in my room. And all the presents under my bed."
"Oh yeah? You are aware that Santa only brings presents to GOOD kids, right?"
Enthusiastic nodding, "Yep!"
"And, do you think you have been really really good this year?"
"Yep!" More nodding.
"Soooooo, what do you think Santa will think about all the marker all over the house? Or the stamp prints all the way up the stair wall? You know, the green stamp marks you made aaaallll the way up the stairs?"
"Get me some tape, and I will cover it up. Santa will never know. And, I will give him extra cookies."
The thought you are all thinking right now is, "Where the heck are the parents, while this child is getting into all this trouble? Your 3 year old cannot do this all, unless he is being completely neglected! What the heck kind of parents are you?? It's a wonder the poor child hasn't fallen off the counter, or cut himself on the broken light bulb glass!"
The thing is; We ARE there! usually within a few feet, or right in the next room, or even in the same room. He is just so QUIET about it, that you don't see it, till it's too late. And, a lot of times, these things happen when I am not at home. His favorite lines in times of trouble are "A NINJA did it, Mom!!! I SAW him!" or, "You didn't SEE me do it, so, you can't know I did it." Followed by: "You did not get any snuggles today. Lets go snuggle now!"
He isn't ALL bad though. He knew I recently had a bad day at work, and not only let me play with his monster trucks, but got up no less than 4 times throughout the night, to make sure I was okay. "Mom. Mom! MOM!! Are you asleep? I think I should come in bed with you, so you don't have a bad night. Is your day better? Are you still having a bad day? I will make you feel better. I just need to... MOM! MOVE. OVER!!!! I AM TRYING TO MAKE YOU FEEL BETTER!!! There. Okay. I am all snuggled in now. Feel better, Mom?"
"Mom. I have to go potty now."
"Uuuggghh. Then go downstairs and go potty."
"You need to come with me."
"Uggghhh."
I can only imagine what the teen years with this child will be like. My goal is to just get him to adulthood on the right side of the law, and in one piece.
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