Boo

So first my Yahoo email address got hacked. Highly embarrassing, and many apologies to anyone who has had any email contact with me whatsoever.

Now in the midst of this past week of single parenting with H out of town, I come down with yet again The Cough That Won't Quit. I was checking out at a store this morning and could hardly get a breath for the coughing. The poor clerk was sympathetic, but I have visions of her sanitizing everything as soon as I walked out the door.

Sigh.

This week has been hard. I'm off to hug my pillow and fantasize about ghost cupcakes landing on my doorstep.

The "I Don't Wannas"

Whoo, that was a trip yesterday.

I've been considering signing Daniel up for a kids martial arts class for some time. Found one I thought I liked, and we moved a little bit slowly. Just went and watched a class one visit. The next time, we could try one out without paying so he participated in his street clothes. He said he wanted to do it, would wear the uniform, etc. so Tuesday was his first official class and the second one was Friday/yesterday. And he wigged out. Shrieking about how he didn't want to wear this (uniform), didn't want to go, please listen to me! At top volume. I gave him my best bland face, didn't get mad, but bundled him into the car anyway. Commotion the whole way there.

To be fair, I think a couple of things were going on. He napped late, and I pretty much had to wake him to go to class. Naps have been all over the board lately. They could happen at any time, and could be a) a two hour affair b) a 15 minute power nap or c) nothing at all. Makes it hard to plan some days. Being woken up, popped in your uniform and hustled to the car probably doesn't put you in a good frame of mind. He's also been a bit shy lately around strange men. Tuesday's class, while he did fine in it, also had two older (teenage) students (guys) who were helping and who towered over the little tykes. Everything went fine, but I started to wonder if he felt a little intimidated. The usual helper is a girl, and the instructor is also a woman.

A little bribery of an ice cream after class ensued. (He responded with: Ice cream first! - nice try, kid...) With a bit of sniffling, we got him into class and once there he hopped around and seemed to enjoy it.

Technically yes, coming to a class like this is optional. I guess I feel like we committed to this, and I want him to at least see it through the 8 week session and then decide if he wants to continue. There are going to be plenty of things coming up where he will have no choice but to continue - we start preschool in the fall, for example. How do you deal with the "I don't wannas?"

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Photo courtesy of: AP An Oscar Mayer Weinermobile crashed into a home in Mt. Pleasant WI yesterday...

SuperMommy - 0, DestructoKid - 1

Our condo can be a tight space. It has been great for a couple, and even worked pretty well for a couple plus baby. Now that we have a 2.5 year old in our midst I despair over ever catching up with the clutter cleaning.

How is it that toys can be strewn from one end of this place to the other, and the only help I can muster up from the little one is if it's a "grown-up" chore? Move the laundry from washer to dryer, and I've got a little assistant. Sweep the kitchen, and I've got an extra pair of hands. Don't get me wrong, I love that "little helper" part! But the rest of his time is spent leaving toy bits in his wake as he moves from room to room. I've started working the ol' vanishing act on some particularly pesky items. So far we are missing one set of legos and several Little People sets. The tool bench went MIA for a few weeks, only recently reappearing - and is in danger of going poof once again. Nothing seems to work about picking up toys, so I'm resorting to a little Mama Magic.

If only that could have saved our kitchen screen. Three weeks to get the re-done frame back from the local hardware store. It does make for a convenient way to get rid of any toys that Daniel decides to drop through the hole in the door...

Spice of Life

Me - (a trifle, um, indisposed in the bathroom)

Daniel - (barging in, holding out his hands) I spilled it!

Me - (Examining indecipherable dusty substance on hands) ???

Come to find out he had been occupying his time figuring out how to unscrew the top of the salt/pepper grinder and there was salt (and peppercorns) everywhere...

I have created a monster

... and he's pint-sized, with longish blond hair, adorable baby blues and he won't give up his sweats.

When he was even more pint-sized, all Daniel's pants came in those "break-aways" with the convenient snaps for undressing and diaper-changing. As he got bigger, and more mobile I discovered sweatpants. I mean, hey - they come in a rainbow of colors, so they go with just about everything! And they pop on and off in about two seconds when you have to tackle the kid and pin him to the floor to change any clothes.

Now if I try and put him in any "regular" clothes - jeans, cords - we are firmly in Tantrum City. Help!

On the other hand. It's possible I'm just a teensy bit jealous.

Update

H called yesterday, frantically plugging change into a pay phone. Verizon cut off his international phone. (Uh, thanks guys.) He can't get out until Tuesday (tomorrow). The only other option was a $1,200 flight on Iceland Air which was earlier. (Yeah, right.) These complications are certainly not his fault... but all told I will have been "single parenting" for nearly two weeks.

I have this mental picture of each of us standing on separate continents yelling help.