Death to a Pony – 'My little Pony'

      

Tis a sad day that we send off our first pony to the great beyond.  It’s official that our annual “Christmas Ornament Massacre” has arrive nearly six months early.

Holy Cow moment ?:  How do I explain the death of a toy?  

How do you explain to a toddler that her toy is, for all intensive purposes, dead.  How do I explain why the dog is not getting yelled at, or well he was but he is not being punished.  How can you explain why she must apologize and the dog does not, not over her toy’s death but in general?  Well lucky for me I have a little bit of time to get these answers.  As of right now, my child didn’t care except for the fact I had to remove the remains of the pony from her grasp.

My dog, the dear, annoying, horse that he is, eats anything with legs.  The first year it was only the left leg.  I lost Rudolph, several Santa’s, a care bear or two and in the end I decided it was simply time for new ornaments.  The next year there was no leg discrimination. Left or right, arm’s had to go too.  Finally I got smart and the dogs no longer get to be near the tree – but now what?  My daughters legged toys are no longer safe. 

We have tried showing him love, giving him treats, letting him have new toys and removing her toys from his sight but to no avail. Somehow the dog finds the legged toys.  Our house at Christmas is a grave yard of paraplegic ornaments; oh I would love to keep this from happening year round, I hope we find our solution soon.

Holy Cow am I amazed at what my dog will do for attention, but worse yet I am amazed that no matter what we do dog of toddler will always find what you missed.

A daily dose of fiber

Holy cow moment #?: I'm fishing out paper...out of what is the question. Out of my darlings mouth. Who knew paper, napkins, boxes or anything else in the paper product category could be so yummy?
A knew excuse-my child ate my work. Literally. Think anyone will believe me? I have more note pages with tiny edges and chunks of paper missing. It looks like i had a mouse attack, alas but no , its something much harder to get rid of.

I'm not sure if my daughter is trying to tell me she needs more fiber or something else. Her first birthday is approaching and I wonder if i should advise all guests to wrap gifts in biodegradable paper with natural dyes, or better yet-wrap gifts in fruit rolls ups!! Of course then the dogs would help unwrap/eat her gifts.

Holy cow who knew id be wresting paper from my child like a dog. She bites down and wont let go. The visual is actually really funny, especially when she places the paper in her mouth purely to carry it hands free while pushing her walker around the kitchen.  I do worry the dogs may be rubbing off on her. If she starts to growl maybe I should worry?

Am i a bad mom because my daughter is eating paper?  One more check mark against me I am sure.

Surviving Parenthood

Post in comments your horror stories so I don’t feel alone.  We all have so many its going to be hard to pick – you know like that time the darling child projectile pooped on the wall, or the first diaper when the baby slid down it (thank you hospital for the inclined bed) and proceeded to get tar poop all up her back, or that time……….

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Holy Cow moment ?:  When someone says you will have good months and you will have bad months no one ever says – you will have BAD months.  Capital BAD – as in the apocalypse can’t hold a candle to this kind of bad. 

My child although the center of my world (by necessity this week rather then because of my undying adoration), isn’t making being a mommy easy.  I could take Sunday when we didn’t sleep – AT ALL, I could handle Tuesday when we slept for roughly 3 hours, I could handle Wednesday when – well you get the picture.  What pushed me over the edge was when at midnight I picked up my coughing child to comfort her and BAM – projectile baby spew everywhere.  I will spare you the details. But at this point I gently sit down the adorable ball of mess that has somehow been linked to my loins and now I just stand there.  I am soaked, arms being held away from my body in pure confusion as to what to do next.  What does one do in this situation?

Well I will tell you what this mom did.  I very methodically removed my clothing in order to avoid any additional mess.  I then removed my child’s and we had bonding time until I could muster up the comprehension that I now needed to redress each of us and clean the crib, the carpet, another load of laundry, keep the dogs from licking the mess up and keep the baby company.  I repeat no one ever prepares you for the BAD weeks.  Halfway into cleaning up this fabulous mess, that had to occur at midnight, I call my husband who is lucky working, lucky for him not me or his ears.   Bless the mans heart he does offer to come home; but like any headstrong, frustrated woman in the throngs of chaos we decline.  Why you ask?  To make the man in our lives pay for something.  Who knows what the poor guy is paying for but he will be forced to listen to us cry, blow up, sob and lastly become rational again.  So for mom’s there are BAD weeks for dads there are pure HELL weeks. 

How do men stay in a marriage with a woman and children?  Well in my case I think it’s fear.  Would you want to leave an insane person who could most likely figure out stalking, man slaughter or torture techniques that the agent worlds used to  use?  I think not. (Actually in my case I am lucky and it turns out he loves us even if I am a bit crazy and our child a little bit of a pain.)

I survived, I really really did.  But I question if my sanity is in tacked.  HAPPY FRIDAY!!!!!

Holy Cow I really thought I was a rational person.  I thought I handled crazy well; wrong.  An eight month old has beaten me.  One more win for the child and one more loss for mom.  Maybe the infant years are really to prepare us for the losing battles of when our children are teens, when the fights are verbal and might just hurt a little more.  Oh right – the whole child bearing process is a learning period for something else – IT NEVER STOPS.  There should be a metal similar to the Purple Heart for surviving parenthood. 

A Dogs Greeting

 Holy Cow Moment 6:  I always laugh or cringe each time I see my dog sniff another dogs rump.  I always ask myself what can be so appealing, why is this the signature way to say, “Hi, how are you Fred.”  Well today I still don’t understand but I find myself holding up my daughter frequently through the day to sniff – you got it, her rump.  Granted my purpose is a little more noble then a dogs but I think mom mannerisms have a tendency to regress once children come around.  Of course I have to wonder what my daughter thinks about this practice.