Here's a little gem from my youngest one. She was pinching her big bro on the face in the cheeks and got both my husband and I mad at her. She went into this 5 minute tear fest. A total overreaction:
Daughter: Crying Me: why are you crying? Daughter: Daddy yell at me Me: Why'd he yell at you? Daughter: b/c you yell at me Me: why did I yell at you? Daughter: b/c I pinch Adander Me: Are you supposed to pinch Alexander? Daughter: Yeah Me: No, you're not supposed to, are you? Daughter: Yeah, he my brudder...
Men definitely have issues. I think the main thing to be concerned about is that Men don't think the same way that we Women do. Documented evidence has shown, that Men are definitely from another planet. This is no new revelation.
My husband is a good case study. He has a bad case of (what I affectionately call) the lazy halfasses. It's not a new condition, its actually always been there. But, until you live with a Man, you don't realize how bad his case of LHA is.
Here's a classic case of LHA: Husband arrives to pick you and your newborn daughter up from the hospital in the middle of winter, but the car seat is NOT installed. He genuinely doesn't understand why I'd be miffed. I try to explain that here I was on a cold winter day outside with daughter bundled up while snow falls in a wheelchair waiting for him to install a car seat. You know, something I had nagged at him to do WEEKS before when I was preggo, and not at the last minute. Talk about being completely mortified AND horrified, and cold, and hormonal, and…
Yeah, it’s like they just don’t get it. I don’t know why they don’t, but somewhere Men are missing the common sense gene when it comes to kids. I'd like to say it was only my husband, but a friend recently wrote me and said that her husband ties their dog down in the front yard where their children plays, and doesn't pick up the poop. She complains, but he doesn't see that as a bad thing. Tell it to another mom, and we'd all agree that he should allow the dog a little time in a different area, OR should just pick up the poop. Not leave it set there, or mow over it. Ask a Man, and they don’t see why it’s a big deal, that is until a kid actually picks up a poop to eat it, is covered in poop and you’re not around to clean it, or something of theirs has poop on it b/c the kids were playing in it. THEN they are called into action. But, try explaining that to them ahead of time, and it’s like you’re talking to the wind.
And, it never gets better. No matter what. For example, yesterday, I asked my husband to take out the trash, which he did. Only he didn’t put a trash bag into the trash, because that was too much work. It’s completely my fault for not saying “Sweetie, could you please take out the trash AND put a trash bag in the bin, you sex muffin you…” Naturally, I had to change daughters’s poop diaper, and when I went to throw it away, there was no trash bag. Which means I had to put one in and put the poop diaper down on the counter because I had no bags available, which means I had to sterilize and sanitize the counter, all because he had LHA. All the while, he sat on the couch, watching me, listening to me vent about his case of the lazy halfasses, and didn’t even flinch, apologize, or do anything but drool on himself.
Its not a one time thing, and he's lucky that I love him so much. I just wish for a little more follow through and a little more common sense. Then I sigh, and realize you can't control LHA. Its a guy thing.
So, my son's new favorite phrase was "I told you..."
It's annoying. Because, half the time, he didn't tell me. But, I roll with it.
Here's a cute conversation we had in the car going to my mom's house.
Son: Can we go to Uncle R's house? Me: No, we're going to Grandma's house. Son: But, I want to go to Uncle R's house. Me: No, we're going to Grandma's and see how she feels [she just had an operation] Son: I talked to Grandma on the phone. She's better now. She told me. Now can we see Uncle R? Husband: He's got you there. Me: No, we're still going to Grandma's.
At Grandma's house...
Me: what's wrong, go give Grandma and Grandpa a hug. Son: they're doing fine now. No need to be here. I told you.
My son's 4 year old check up had a few laughs. Here's some Q & A:
The Doc is looking for the answer "I eat"
Doc: What do you do when you're hungry? Son: I rub my tummy Doc: And then what? Son: I tell Mommy or Daddy Doc: And then what happens? Son: They give me a pear or an apple. Doc: And then what? Son: I wash it. Doc: And then what do you do? Son: I eat my fruit.
Whew!
Doc: What do you do when you're cold. Son: I make a fire. Doc: (laughs) I've never heard that before.
So, my son has been frantic all weekend about Easter Eggs. Apparently, they made a big deal out of it at his school, and he had some odd fascination with it.
To combat this, as a good Catholic mama, I tried to explain to him in simple terms what Easter was really about. You know, that Jesus dies, rises from the dead, and we celebrate by the Easter Bunny giving us candy if we're good.
On one occasion about Easter Eggs, I found myself resembling an old Abbott and Costello skit regarding Easter Eggs.
Son: can we do the eggs now? Me: no, you have to wait until daddy comes home so we can dye them. Son: I don't want them to die, I want to color them! Me: Dyeing is coloring. Son: they turn colors when they die? Me: when the eggs are dyed, they will turn colors Son: so daddy has to kill them when he gets home? Me: no one is killing the eggs. We're just coloring them Son: when they die? Me: when they're dyed, as in color
Needlesstosay, this conversation went on for a while, which resulted in my little philosopher being even more confused and frustrated.
He eventually got over it when he threw his first egg into the green dye.
