Tag Archives: Parenting

Monday, Monday

12 Sep

I had this grand idea to get organized.  The pool season has ended and so it’s time to stop neglecting the house/kids/myself.  As I do with most of my grand ideas, I looked to Pinterest (aka “Carol’s brain” because how did I ever do anything or have an idea on my own without Pinterest).  And with any great idea that can only be completed with the help of Pinterest, I had to spend hours searching and pinning and then clicking on pins and filtering through pins.  I finally decided to do this…

listingmaincollagethemomplannerbycleanlifeandhome

Yep, 147 pages!  Not to be confused with 148 pages which would totally be overboard.

…and then there were all of these checklists that had to be printed out and organized.  (because you have to organize your organization binder to help you organize)

thinking-face

…and then I had to fill in checklists, make menus and plan a whole week of cleaning.

The more lists I completed the more overwhelmed I felt.  *This is already backfiring.  Why do I feel less organized.  What’s that?  What’s happening?  What’s going on?

So I worked and typed and penciled-in this and that in my binder all weekend.  And finally, at 3 AM this morning, I had the week ready to go.  I looked over my Monday morning checklist and thought to myself “Ok, it seems like a lot.  I’m overwhelmed, but wait… some of this I can really knock out in the hour that I have in between dropping Phoebe off at her bus stop and dropping Leila off at her bus stop.  Tess will be asleep.  This may work!  I’ve got this!”

…But then Tess woke up at 4 AM crying and I couldn’t get her back to sleep until after 5 AM and feeling exhausted I started reasoning with reality.  “I have to get up at 6:30 AM to get Jax off to school.  Let’s be real.  I’ll be too tired and want to take a nap after all of the kids are gone.  I’m going to have to add “nap” to my to-do list.  Is that contradictory?  Can you add “nap” to a to-do list that is supposed to keep you organized and timely?  Screw it!  Adding “nap” to my to-do list will be the first thing I “to-do”.”  Zzzzzz…

As predicted, I was exhausted to the point of delirium, but I got Jax up and ready, then I got Phoebe up and ready, and then I opened my binder and set to cross things off quickly, so I could get to “nap”.  I did a load of laundry, took care of the dog, woke Leila up and got her in the shower, realized that most of the things I actually do weren’t even on my to-do list, but thought things were going well… until Leila walked up to me in the hallway mid-“laundry” check-off.  Soaking wet with tears in her eyes she stammered, “Mom, I just remembered, I was supposed to do a project this weekend.”  

“A project?!  Not a worksheet or a chapter to read, but a whole PROJECT?!”

“Yes!  I need to make a poster about something for health class.”  Still dripping under her towel, she shuffled through her binder and handed me a sheet with her project requirements. 7 research bulletin points, to be exact.

“Crap!  Ok, get dressed.  Seriously, Leila?!  You have to be at the bus stop in 20 minutes.  It’ll be fine.  Dry your eyes.  Mommy to the rescue!  Let me see what I can knock out.”  I quickly turned to the computer and tapped away at the keyboard, scrambled for a gnarly piece of leftover posterboard, a glue stick and my paper cutter.  Frantically, I searched, copy and pasted, printed, cut and glued and all the while it was killing me that I couldn’t rephrase most of it and that it wasn’t pretty.  It dawned on me that most people with OCD are probably unorganized because if it’s not perfect then it’s not good enough, so why even try?  I had completed 5 bulletin points before she had to leave for the bus stop.  She walked out of the door without a project and both of us were deflated, but I trudged on and when it was completed I jumped in the van with what is quite possibly the worst looking poster on “Stuttering” the teacher will ever be handed.  I zipped to the bus stop just as the bus was coming down the street to pick her up.  *Yay!  I got to be her hero!  She gave me a giant hug, as I told her to study the poster on the bus and really learn her topic.

I left the bus stop smiling, but even more exhausted.  I came home to stare blankly at the mess the haphazard project had left behind in its wake and then look over even more blankly at my “to-do list” with its one… lone… check.  Nope, “do Leila’s weekend project for her” wasn’t on there.  Just then… *crunch* *crunch* “Shit!  What’s the dog into?”  Fabulous, “cleaning up shards of gnawed on colored pencils” isn’t on my to-do list either.  F U, Monday!

mondaymonday

Weekend Update

3 Nov

Sandy came and went.  The power merely flickered, once I think.  The mailman survived… and so did the mail.  Damn it!  Our roof leaked in a couple of spots, but nothing that required a bucket.  However, that didn’t stop my husband from hopping on top of the roof a couple of hours before the eye of Sandy made landfall.  No… he had to check it out… and… found nothing.  I over prepared, as I sent my husband on several shopping excursions during the days prior to the storm for massive amounts of groceries, mostly perishable (because why would an oncoming hurricane suddenly help me make an intelligent decision) and then baked a huge vegetarian lasagna the morning of Sandy for me to nibble on during our week without power that never happened.  Half of it is now awaiting the trash can.

Halloween, on the other hand, was the best it’s been in years!  Let’s see… there were my 4,

Tess fell asleep promptly after taking this photo and stayed asleep for our entire trip around the neighborhood.

Jax (in his black morphsuit. yes, he IS in the photo), Phoebe (the princess bumblebee), and Leila in her cupcake (polite as she tried to be (since, I made her costume), Leila had to strip off her cupcake and be a “cherry head” for the last half of her trick or treating adventure because her costume got so heavy.

Tyson and Deon from next door, Brandon and Lucy from down the street, Leila’s friends from school (Samantha and Kelly) and a few of their neighbors, and then Tyson had a couple of his friends from school join in on the fun, too!  All-in-all I think it was a group of 15 kids, 8 parents, and 1 dog walking chasing each other door to door this year and it was AWESOME!!!  Lots of mysteries were solved along the way including… what’s that??? marijuana??? Yes, that is indeed a drug house., Huh, I guess there isn’t a dead person in that house after all.(oddly disappointing), and our missing new friend is alive and well at the end of the street dressed as a witch… YAY!

Jaxon came home 30 minutes after getting to school and promptly vomiting outside of the gym.  He then laid in the bathroom floor shivering with a fever of 102.  Poor guy!  My hands are tortured from all of the washing and sanitizer, but I’m praying that no one else will catch it.  Advil has barely dented his high fever for the past 2 days.

In an effort to get crap lovely things that you should buy moving out of my “sewing corner”, I put several onesies for sale on Etsy. I don’t imagine that they will sell, but they are on there, so that is progress.  Maybe I will make each onesie a pair of matching boots so they will sell and I can be done with them.  (onesies turned out to be much more of a project than they are worth.  fortunately, I only bought like, 20 of them to complete.)  They are all newborn size (which is the problem with selling them.  You pretty much have to be shopping for an up and coming baby shower to consider purchasing them.)  So if you happen to be reading this and know someone who is knocked up, you should buy one of my super awesome onesies.  I’ll give you a 50% off coupon code if you comment on this post!

Oh yeah, Tess started crawling this week!  Can you believe it?!  Everything this year has been such a blur!  I hate blinking any more.  Yep, so she’s crawling, which is why I’m deep cleaning the house.  Not the greatest time of year to do, as a yard sale mid-hurricane/odd-noreaster-type-storm/blizzard is out of the question.  If you are interested feel free to stop by my house and point at random things that you’d like to have and I can guarantee you’d probably end up going home with it.

Supercalafrajalisticexpialadocious!

27 Jul

originally posted- July 27, 2007

(I don’t think that I’ve ever taken the time to write out the actually word before, so my spelling may be wrong.  I tried to look up the proper spelling in Webster’s, but to no avail.)

I’m finding myself getting easily frustrated with the kids these days.  I don’t know if it’s because they are being abnormally creative (or bad whichever you prefer to label it) or if it’s the stress and the pressure that I’m under with the move (having to have the house tidy on a minute to minute basis is very stressful, especially since Leila has decided to be creative on a minute to minute basis) or if I’m generally turning into super-bitch-mom.

I used to get all gooey inside each time my child first started saying the word “Mommy”.  You know, the warm fuzzy feelings of love…heart skips a beat…eyes swell with little tears…lump forms in your throat.  I am now starting to feel chills race up my spine and fire explode from every hole in my head when the word “Mom” is spoken.  The frequency in which it is said and the pitch of their voice when it is spoken can only be described as a cat (make that a lion…a very big lion) using a chalk board for a scratching post.  This annoyance is at its worst when both kids are in the car with me.  Yesterday, while on another 1.5 hour drive to the shore, I had my name whined to me about a bahjillion (that’s a lot) times from the back seat.  Halfway through the drive, I had finally had enough and then yelled it

Mommy:  ENOUGH!!!!! That is it!  I have had it!  Finito (In case you children don’t understand English)!  DO NOT, I repeat, DO NOT, say my name for the rest of the day!  The next time I hear the name Mommy come from that back seat, I swear to you, my head will explode!  Do you want my head to explode?

Jaxon:  It can do that?

Mommy:  Do we really want to find out?  Now, I am no longer Mommy.  If you must talk to me you can use my new name Supercalafrajalisticexpialadocious!  Got it!

Rear seat:  Supa… *giggle* …Supercowa… *laughter* …Superjalistacal… *belly laughs*……

Supercalafrajalisticexpialadocious (formerly known as Mommy):  *thinking* – there I’ve done it!   they’ll never figure out how to say it and I will spend the rest of the car ride in peace-  ahhhhhh!  this is so much better!

Rear seat (minutes later):  Stop it!  Give it back!  It’s mine!  That’s it…I’m telling!  Supa…Supercow…MOM!  How do you say…?  MOM!  Leila won’t give me my book back!

Supercow:  KER POW!!!!  EXPLOSION!

After much glue, tape, added miscellaneous parts, and a night of sleep…my head is back together again.  So, this is what I got to enjoy today…


This went from, “Hey Mom, take a picture of me with my favorite movie” to “take a picture of this too… and this… and this…”.  I will say nothing more than it was a strange series of events that I need not relive again.  Also, I dare you to say anything about yet another blue room in the background that is now, thanks to my dear sweet husband, newly spackled and waiting for me to paint before the open house that is…wait…what?…oh, yeah…the day after tomorrow!!!!  Go ahead, I dare you!

And I also got to deal with this:


Leila decided that if I was going to take her fingerpaint away from her she’d just go investigate how baby powder would work out for her creativity.

Judgy Wudgy was a bear

23 Jul

Wow, thanks to flashback posts this has been a full week!  Since this post contains a lot of self-reflection, I’ve decided to flashback another post along with it… you know, in case you want to skip the “psycho-babble”.

originally posted:  July 23, 2007

Some days I’m just overwhelmed with judgement (passed on me). I wallow in paranoia of what others must be thinking about me…what kind of mother they think I am…what kind of wife they think I am…what I look like…what type of person I’m coming off as (friendly, snobby, shy, stupid…etc…)…what my current hygiene is (I’m wearing flip flops and I didn’t have time to shave that annoying bit of hair on my big toe….did I forget to put on deodorant)…etc..etc..etc… Paranoia!!! I once had a friend tell me years ago that I’m not immune to so-called friends talking about me behind my back and that statement has haunted me ever since. Is there no such thing as a totally trustworthy friend? One who loves you for who you are and all of your quirks. One who accepts you as a human being who is prone to completely embarrassing themself and beats themself up over every dumb move they’ve ever made in their life. I find myself shutting down when around “new” people and they either think that I’m shy or snobby or mute, but that’s not the case! I just am trying my damnedest not to say something that the next day I will spend all of my down time thinking “why, oh why, did I say that”. Why do I have this overwhelming fear of not being perfect? There’s no such thing as perfect, so why do I care so much?

What brings on all of this psycho-babble? I went to a party yesterday for one of Michael’s co-workers. There were dozens of people there and only a few of them were acquaintances of mine (and by that I mean, I’ve met them a couple of times and could not remember their names). The kids were with us as were other party go-ers kids. I felt uncomfortable and did my best to smile at all times and became Carol the Sweet as I try to do in front of unfamiliar people. Some parents there were not watching their kids who would hit my kids or throw things at my kids or say bad words. The parents would literally roll their eyes when their child got hurt and ran to them crying because they actually had to put their cigarette down to pick them up for a second. I left Michael in charge of Leila for 5 minutes to use the potty and find a drink and when I returned Leila was in the middle of the yard by herself crying. Mike claimed he didn’t see anything (imagine that) and I went to Leila to ask her what had happened. Her hairband was missing and she wiped the tears from her eyes and as best she could said “(mumble) hit me!” “Who hit you?” She pointed to a girl the same age as her who was running around with Leila’s hairband on her head. I asked the girl to please give Leila back her hairband and she came over held it out and then proceeded to cackle and play keep away. “Little brat!” (was all I could think, but I tried my best to keep up the smiley face act and finally tricked the girl into forking it over). The little girl’s mother finally walked over, cigarette in hand, and said, “now be nice”. At that very moment the girl hit Leila. I looked at Leila and a red mark was brewing on her face from the first hit thrown at her. The mother said, “now no hitting”. The little girl hit Leila again. I was furious, but what could I say or do in front of other’s that I didn’t know? I was powerless from defending my little girl. All I could do was swoop her up from the madness and explain to her that it was not ok that that girl was hitting her and wipe away her tears with my best mommy kisses. “These parents are horrible!” (I was thinking) Later that night, the father (of the other little girl) was so drunk he could barely stand up and the mother had gone for a joy ride in someone’s jeep, so the daughter was left wandering around with no one but me to watch her. As I stood there playing house with Leila I watched this little girl literally lick sand from out of the sand box. No one cared, no one said don’t do that, no one said eww, that’s gross…she just continued to eat sand! And then I began judging more and more and more and then I realized that I was doing what I HATE more than anything. I was judging!!! I wasn’t thinking “you know, maybe the parents don’t get to have fun time of their own and they’re taking advantage of all the people here that they know will help them watch their child and just let them cut loose for once” or “she’s probably a really good girl who doesn’t eat sand on normal occasions she’s just having a bad day (as ALL kids do, including my own). No, now I was judgy wudgy and I didn’t like it!

Are these parents at the party at all like me and now spending the day afterward brushing the sand out of their daughter’s teeth thinking “oh my god, what awful parents everyone at the party must think we are”? Are they at all embarrassed? Or do they not care about judgment like I so wish I didn’t?

I guess what this drawn out story boils down to is…when it comes to me…if you’re thinking something about me PLEASE just say it. It’ll hurt a lot less than me worrying about what you’re thinking…

…but eventually I’d like to be surrounded by a group of people where I’m just IMMUNE.

To update:  I’m still not IMMUNE damn-it, but I’m coming to grips with the fact that no one else is either. Somehow, it eases the burn.   Also, in re-reading this I don’t think that I was overly judgmental of the parents at the party.  As a matter of fact, I’m mad at myself for not snatching the little bratty-hitter up by the back of her neck and throwing her in time-out myself.  I’ve definitely learned over the years, that when my child is playing with another and that child’s parents won’t step up to the plate, I WILL!!!

More of the “Best Day Ever”

20 Jul

originally posted- July 20, 2007

Jan came over to visit today!  Yeah, company!  Another adult to talk to!  Or so this is what I thought because my kids kinda stole her for their own amusement and I got to say very few words.  We went shopping and looked at paper and style choices for the wedding invitations that I am going to make for her.  We also went to buy more paint because…

Mike thought that this seam in the drywall wasn’t perfect enough so he just ripped it open.  I don’t know what we are going to do for the next week if potential buyers decide to drop by for a looksee.  …Ohhhh, right…What potential buyers?!!!!  Nevermind, we have PLENTY of time!

Jan, myself, and the kids went shopping at various stores, out to luch where according to Jax and a wet pair of underwear – Leila peed on the playground slides (sorry to all of you other mother’s out there who will be taking their kids for a treat to Chick-fil-A today, but I’m sure that Jax wiped it up pretty good as he was the next kid down the slide after her….Potty training is an imperfected process ladies!), went out for coffee, read some books, came home to swim in the kiddie pool, swung on the swings, and every chance we had we listened to the “Best Day Ever” in the truck.   By the time Jan left she was A. very thankful that she did not have kids  B. very thankful that she did not have to take my kids home with her  C.  knows and was singing every word to the “Best Day Ever” song.

Are we tired yet guys???

Of course not!!!!

Leila?  Do you have to use the potty????????

Read more: http://blogs.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=blog.view&friendId=196390829&blogId=290095156#ixzz0uStojHQC

I do NOT handle change very well

13 Jul

Originally posted-  July 13, 2007

The offer that Mike put in on house 3 was countered.  Thank God!!  It made him think about it a little more rather than rushing in.  I calculated all of the finances for him down to a T and he finally agreed that a permanent house can wait.  Don’t get me wrong, he wasn’t alone in the RUSH RUSH gotta find a nice home NOW NOW.  I am totally at fault for this flaw.  But this particular house that he just LOVED just seemed like so much work to me.  It could be great, but just TOO MUCH work.  So, now Mike’s dreams are crushed and today he just doesn’t seem his normal jolly, sarcastic, borderline jerkhead self.   I’ve tried my usual tricks:  making silly faces, offering a freezie pop, and blowing bubbles (it works with the kids and that’s all I’ve got), but he still mopes.  I would offer sex, but….I just don’t feel like it today.  Poor Mike…sounds like a bad day all around!

On an even sadder note…

My neighbor and basically one of the very few, if not ONLY, good friends that I have in Bowie is moving tomorrow.  She’s the only stay-at-home mom that I know of in Bowie and we always relied on each other for EVERYTHING.  Our kids were very close (she had 5 children in less than 5 years…. ummm… yeah… she’s aka SUPERWOMAN and/or a sexpot).  I would insert a great picture of all of us together here, but I’ve temporarily lost my camera.

I’ll miss you Sally!  It’s just not going to be the same around here!  The change is a comin’ and I’m expecting boredom and PANIC to set in at any moment!

NEWLY ADDED (camera problem fixed)

(but a bit smallish, don’t ya think?)

Update June 30 (OMG… is it really June 30th???), 2010:

Since Sally’s move, our friendship has dwindled (though, not halted).  I hate that!  It was not her fault or mine, but just due to time and space.  Too little time, too much space between us!  I have found a couple of other stay-at-home-moms nearby, though.  Thank God because yelling “stop that!” and “why did you do that?” in between cartoon marathons, laundry, dishes, mopping, trash detail, finger painting, diaper changing, and preschool lessons, can really wear a toll on what once was a very “normal” human being.  I cannot emphasize enough the need to speak non-babytalk to an adult once every now and then.  3 houses, on our little cul-de-sac, sold in this 2 year span.  We lost 3 very special families and miss them dearly.  However, just about the best neighbors ever moved into one of the 3 sold;)  We got very lucky!!!

In the past 48 hours…

12 Jul

Originally posted-  July 12, 2007

…I have managed to gain a SAD addiction to Spider Solitaire on the computer.  It is very sad!!!  I must stop….NO….I must WIN!!!  Leila?  What?  You’re thirsty?  Ok, go find mommy your sippy cup and bring it to me and then grab the juice out of the fridge and bring that to me as well.  I’ve almost won; I cannot leave now!  (almost didn’t admit to this new-found addiction.  new rule of thumb for carol ~ if it embarrasses you, you must stop doing it!)  DONE!!!

…I bought 3, 1 gallon paint cans from Home Depot.  They were on clearance because they were mis-colored.  I don’t need to paint anything, but they were on clearance!  Then again, I have 3 houses now, so I’m sure that I can find something to paint.

…I ate a heart.  Yes, that’s right I said ATE and HEART!  I was tricked, I tell you!  When Mike and I went grocery shopping 2 days ago, I said, “Ewww Mike, look they actually sell Beef Heart here!  Isn’t that disgusting?”.  It was cut up into the 4 quadrants of the heart and it was pretty big.  Mike being the freak that he is said, “Neat!  I’m going to cook it and try it!”  You go right ahead with your bad self!  This is also the guy who LOVES the raw squid and muscle italian entrée at one of our local restaurants.  Groooosssss!  So last night Mike looked up some recipes on the internet and set out the steak for me and the kids and the heart for himself and started seasoning and cooking the meats separately.  While on the computer (probably playing solitaire, come to think of it), Mike walked up to me with a fork full of his new-found internet recipe.  I take a bite and say “Yum, that’s pretty good.  It’s so tender!  I think that’s because we bought chuck steak this time.”  Mike, walking away, starts laughing and says “No it’s because it’s not the steak… it’s the heart!”  Ohhhhh, Mike, once I’m finished vomiting, I’m going to…blaugh…blaugh….let you…blaugh…have it…blaugh!

…Speaking of vomit, I had to scrub my dog’s vomit out of the new carpet first thing this morning.  90% of our home has easy-to-clean laminate flooring, but did he vomit there…..NOOOOO!  He had to go and vomit on the new carpet.  Pooh Bear, I love you, but I swear, some days you make it really hard!

and most recently…

…I got into a fight with a woman who barely spoke English at Barnes & Noble over the Thomas the Train Table.  That’s right kiddies, you thought you were coming to Barnes & Noble to sit back, relax, read some books, and play with the complementary train table…but, little did you know you were in for a show too!  An all out cat fight between two adult women over wooden trains, to be exact.  Well, she had it coming.  I mean, I tried to nicely ask her kids to share, but they rudely ignored me.  I told them the trains were there for everyone and if they weren’t going to play with them, then it was unfair for them to hide them amongst their massive pile of books, while the other children desperately searched for trains to play with.  Child after child came up to the train table saying “There aren’t any trains.  Mommy, where are the trains?”  While the rude children grasped the trains tighter and hid them under their books.  I asked them repeatedly to share, but they just looked at me and then looked at their mom.  She just rolled her eyes at me every time I told her kids (quite frankly) that they weren’t being very nice.  So, I, the meek mother that I am, started mumbling to the good kids that “if the train-snatching kids were parented a little better than maybe all of you, children that are crying over missing trains, would have something to play with”.  She started giving me evil glares and intermittently growled something about me in Spanish to her awful children.  I’m sure it went something like this, “You see that lady over there?  She is one of the loveliest ladies in the world.  She is such a wonderful mother and I am scum, so let’s let the other kids have the trains and beg the train table God for forgiveness.”  Right???

Update- June 4, 2010

I no longer play computer solitaire.  As a matter of fact, I don’t even remember ever playing it!  I must’ve given it up after reading this post and realizing what a useless dork I was turning into.

I never painted anything with the discount paint that I bought.  I’m pretty sure that the cans are still in the shed collecting dust and is completely unusable.  Yay, me!  I wasted money… again!

I didn’t remember eating a heart, either!  Ewww!  I think I will vomit again just to make sure that it is completely out of my system!

I do remember Pooh Bear having several bouts of diarrhea and vomiting during his time with us and I remember how much of a pain I thought it was to clean up.  But above that, I remember what a gentle, loving, and protective soul he was and if he were still with us today… I’d gladly complacently scrub his vomit in exchange for the gentle apologetic nudge of his head in my lap. *tear*

Lastly, the Hispanic Lady from the Barnes & Noble encounter, has since donated hundreds of new Thomas trains to children all over the world as a peace-offering for her past bad-parental behavior.  She now calls me frequently for advice on train-table etiquette.  Also,  I was nominated for a Sir Topham Hatt Peace Prize, but lost to the guy that glues the train tracks to the table because, according to Thomas, he prevents a “cluster-f*ck of chaos and train wrecks daily”.  Of course this made me very cross because I think that I the most useful protector of the Isle of Sodor.  I still dedicate a lot of my time educating others about the seriousness of trainnapping.

My Son the Unicorn

5 Jul

Originally posted July 5, 2007

4th of July and we were under a tornado watch and sever t-storm warning, which in my section of Bowie translates to…you’re not going to have electricity for the next 24-48 hours, so light your candles and prepare for boredom (this happens frequently and is my major bonus for moving).  So, I tried to make most of the moment and delve into an art project with the kids.  Since 4th of July is also my mother-in-law’s birthday, I asked the kids to make ornate birthday cards for her with me.  We found the glitter, a bucket of foam shapes, construction paper, markers, stamps and buttons and buckled down for some serious birthday wishes.  Midway through making our cards Jax wanted some glue to glitter it up.  I told him to search the shelf above Leila’s play kitchen.  While he searched standing on a chair, I helped Leila stamp her card.  Jax excitedly finds something on the shelf and whips around to show me his treasure and the following happens in slow motion and fast forward simultaneously.  The chair he was standing on was the computer chair which swivels (bad mommy mistake number one).  When he turned the chair swiveled and caused him to lose his balance.  He came crashing down and when I swooped in to take him in my arms he resembled a pretzel face down on the floor next to our half-wall/bar.  He was notably in pain as he was wincing, screaming, and crying all at once.  While cradling him in my arms, I began the many mommy whispers that we all do of “you’ll be ok, baby…i’m so sorry that happened to you…i promise you’ll be ok”.  Then I lifted his chin to see his face and check out the damage.  Two seconds after his fall there was already a giant blue golf ball on the inner point of his right eyebrow.  Trying my damnedest not to wince or show shock when I saw it, I lied as best as I could and said “It’s not that bad.  You’ll be fine!”  At that moment I looked up and saw a baseball size hole in the wall where his head must’ve slammed into it.  I hugged him tighter and managed to calm him down.  He stood up and said, “Mommy I don’t want to make my card anymore.  I just want to go to bed.” As soon as he walked out of the room I rummaged for my cell phone and called Mike to ask him what I should do.

Carol:  Your son had a horrible fall.  His head slammed through the half-wall.  He looks terrible…I don’t know what to do.  What should I do?

Mike:  There’s a hole in the wall?

Carol:  Yes, but Jaxon’s bump/growth on his head is now turning from blue to white.  That can’t be good.  What do I do?

Mike: Make him hold ice on it and don’t let him go to sleep in case he has a concussion.  How big is the hole in the wall?

Carol: I don’t know… like baseball size.  What if he won’t keep the ice on his head?

Mike:  Is it an actual hole or a dent?

Carol:  It’s a HOLE!  He doesn’t look good, Michael.

Mike:  Take a picture of the wall…and Jax with your phone and send it to me.

Carol:  OK

Mike:  (priorities still mirroring the sale of our house) Do we still have any of the color paint that we painted the half-wall with leftover?

Carol:  *click*

I get Jaxon situated with a lollipop and an ice pack and walk out to find Leila ankle deep in foam shapes, buttons, and glitter as far as the eye can see and is drawing a rainbow mural all over herself in marker.  She looks up at me and smiles and says “Look, mommy!” *CRAP!  thank you, Leila, you always know how to make mommy’s life a little easier!*

Today, my son looks like some kind of mutant unicorn, my daughter is still green with blue swirls from the neck down, and my husband (true to form) is patching the hole in the wall.

Here are the photos that I took with my phone:

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