Medicating a 2 Year Old

Giving medicine to a 2 year old, I think, is quite similar to trying to give medicine to a cat. Elliot has a sinus infection and is on an antibiotic (yummy bubblegum) and a decongestant (nasty grape).

I can usually coax him into the bubblegum if I let him hold the spoon. This, however, always ends with a giant barbie pink medicine mustache and a trail down his chin and shirt. The nasty grape? No way, no how.

This morning I had to put it into a syringe and hold his head between my knees (he was standing, this wasn't as torturous as it sounds), have Fred hold his arms, pry his mouth open and shoot it in. We had to do this 4 times as he'd escape, clench his teeth or refuse to swallow.

Now he hates me. The entire rest of the morning, car ride to daycare and then at daycare - he had nothing to say to me. Wouldn't even look at me. I tried to explain to him that its all to help him out but somehow that falls on deaf ears.

Just remember, darling son, your momma is the queen of being stubborn and I will win. I. Will. Win.

Problematic Posting

I got called out last night about not blogging. And even as I whined my excuse across the table it wasn't working. I haven't been blogging - and it's not for a lack of funny things. It's a lack of memory of the funny things done or the lack of ability to put funny things into a read-able form.

How do I blog about this weekend when I got him from his nap only to find him straddling his crib like it was a rocking horse and beaming proudly while showing me this accomplishment. (Seriously, Fred, we need to get the crib down to the last notch pronto!)

I can't put into words how the Circus went (yes, we ended up going) and how I was actually more afraid of the trapeze artists than Elliot was of any of the clowns. He laughed and repeatedly called them "siwwee cwowns." Then the guy that got shot of out the cannon? Elliot didn't flinch, or miss a second. I panicked; he said "cool mommy."

The battle of wills is on every day at our house. He doesn't want a cereal bar he wants a waffle but when the waffle is ready he cries for toast. Mommy makes him eat the waffle and that is the most torturous thing ever. His life is ruined, his spirit crushed. I am, by far, the worst mom on the planet at this specific point in time. Dangit mom, you know that when I say waffle I actually mean that I want a dill pickle!

Elliot loves to mimic Fred running. Here was this morning's conversation:
A: Good morning, Elliot, want to get up?
E: No mommy, Daddy.
A: Daddy's running so you're stuck with me.
E: Daddy runeeng? Downstayr? Runeeng, runeeng, runeeng!! (Big smile and jerks his arms back and forth as though he's sprinting the 100m in the Olympics.)
E: See Daddy runeeng? Go downstayr?
A: Sure, honey, just let me change your diaper.

A new game is to point at a house and yell HOUSE! This started because every day he asks "Whassat?" the entire way home. Its the same stuff every day; it's a house, a tree, car, truck or bus. On Monday I started yelling House! and pointing. He caught on and it was a very amusing ride home with each of us trying to out-HOUSE! the other one before exploding into laughter. I believe I heard a "siwwee mommy" more than once.

I could go on all day. They just don't make for very good posts. Cole, sorry to let you down. I'll try to be better about it, I promise.

A Little Diddy...

Elliot would like to sing Twinkle Twinkle Little Star to you.

Ginkel ginkel Bubba's House
Ginkel ginkel Bubba's House

Thank you, thank you very much. If you want to leave him a tip - put it in his College Savings account because I don't think his songwriting skills will take him far.

Stop Stop Stop the Insanity.

I swear I'm going to lose it. The calliope has been playing for a mere 6 minutes and I want to bash my head against my desk until I can no longer hear it. The worst part? It's not within my sight so I can't plot against the evil machine. Blast you Shriners and your Circus too!

The Circus is Here - Where are the Cows?

The circus is in town. This typically involves a few days of me on edge because of the calliope stationed right outside my office window playing that monotonous circus tune all day long. For whatever reason, it isn't even outside this year - and I'm hoping it stays that way.

A coworker of mine was quite excited to see the trucks pulling up and continually ran in my office to see if any animals were on the street. (In her defense, we did see horses and elephants frequently last year.) This went on all morning.

In the afternoon, I sent her an email. The subject said "Quick!" and inside I had told her to hurry up because they're unloading the cows. Within 3 seconds, I hear her running down the hall and straight for my window.

I'm dying laughing. Through my laughs I managed to get out "there are no COWS in the circus!" She laughed, turned red and jokingly got mad at me. By this point I was crying from laughing so hard.

If anyone sees "Denwi" (I have to honor her privacy) - ask her what, exactly, cows would even do in a circus. She won't answer me.

I am Bringing Peace

Or, at least, the plant in my office is.

I was just grooming the peace lily that I inherited when Katy left (and subsequently didn't want when she returned) and I counted 14 blooms!

If you need some peace, let me know - I have 14 spots to fill.

No Mommy, No Help!

Those were the words muttered by Elliot this morning as I dug to find the coveted Spidey shirt in a basket of clothes. And then I did the unthinkable - attempted to help him get dressed.

No mommy, no help!

He proceeded to try to put his shirt on himself... but he has NO idea how to put his shirt on without help.

This went on for over an hour and he finally put it on a little before 11:00. He ate lunch at 11:15 and by 11:30 was in dire need of a new shirt. Bye Spidey - maybe next time.

The Week in Review...

Jen called me out for not blogging as of late. Truth be told, unless you want to hear about the violent poop and puke virus we were ambushed with I don't have much to say.

So here is our week in review...

1. On Monday, the three of us were home sick. A lot of tv was watched (don't yell at me for this but I seriously was not functioning and at least then I knew where Elliot was) including The Cosby Show. Sassy little Rudy Huxtable taught Elliot a new response.
A: Elliot - Can you go over-
E: What?!
A: What? I just wanted you to-
E: WHAT?

Also on Monday, Fred taught him to point his finger at you and yell "You da man!" He's already done that to the security guards outside daycare.

2. Sienna has NOT bitten me all week! Woohooo!

3. Crazy Brenda won't shut it about having her child potty trained. Lady - I can at least get Elliot to SIT on a potty and for us that's a big step.

4. Elliot was given Fred's old Cabbage Patch doll. Anyone from Fred's family remember his name (other than Cindy)? He's running around in his diaper (the baby) right now but I'm hoping to make him some clothes soon. Answer: Dan Ackerly or "Acky Dan" as Fred called him.

5. Got a new DS game called Professor Layton and the Curious Village. I'm hooked. I have Wendi hooked. And, at this moment, Fred is getting hooked. It's sort of like doing meth - you just keep on keepin on and the next thing you know - BAM! Addicted!

Not much else to report.... I hope your week has been more interesting than mine. Next week you'll surely get a rant about the circus being in town as my office is about 100 yards from where they park the calliope.

Lucky, lucky me.

Even Though She Hates Me

Since I got home less than a week ago, the cat has bitten me 3 times.

I have a bruise the size of a quarter on my thigh from her biting me when I crawled into bed.

I have two bruises (one for the top teeth and one for the bottom) on my upper arm when she bit me through two layers of clothes. I was playing basketball with Elliot.

I have no doubt in her mind I deserved this for some reason. All I know is I saved her from a nasty pet store, nursed her back to health and let her roam the backyard. And THIS is how she repays me.

I hate her. I've contemplated giving her up. I often wish she'd run away and not come back. I often wish someone would just offer to take her and love her. But none of these involve me harming or killing her, unlike the guy in Lincoln the other day that - no, I'm not kidding you - put his kitty in his bong because she was hyper.

Drumroll, please!

Last night I went through the submitted answers and came up with 3 winners. I put each initial on a scrap of paper, rolled them up and tossed them in a ball. I told Fred at some point he needed to pick one out and that person would be the winner.

Half asleep on the couch last night I mumbled to Fred about picking a name. Silence. He doesn't remember me talking and said that when he finds a bowl with three balls of paper in it he trashes it.

Next thing I know he's saying "Hey, what's a T mean?"

Well - that means that Ms. Tina Hatchell is my super fun time blog scavenger hunt winner! Even if Fred had to pick her out of the trash (sorry about that, Beans) - she's still the winner. She gets to pick any store she wants and I'll get her a gift card to shop there.

I guess you fuddy-duddies should've played.
Thank you to everyone who did play!!