Elliot, along with every single other classmate (except, of course, Crazy Brenda's kid) was flipping out this morning having just been left by their parent. I calmly told him that I loved him, patted him on the head, kissed his cheek and said "suck it up, honey, we do this almost every day" and proceeded to leave.
On my walk to work I realized something. Had I played all weekend with 6 grandparents, 4 aunts and uncles, saw 3 real-life motorcycles, gone to the zoo, went for a bike ride, visited Tecumseh, numerous trips to the store, played with Nate, Mike and Kelly all afternoon and was fighting a cold on top of it all... I wouldn't want to be "stuck" at daycare either.
Waaaait a minute. I think I have this all wrong. After taking care of a 2 year old through all of that I think I should be the one in daycare today so I can eat, sleep and play my day away.
What do you get when six old people completely decked out in "Harley gear" roll up on Harley 'geezer edition' bikes and park in your cul de sac? They creakily dismount the bikes, remove the helmets and the ladies fix their hair before climbing the 6 torturous steps to our house.
Fast forward about an hour - 2 of the 3 male old persons are snoozing on the sofa. Fast forward another hour - all 3 are snoozing (and it was caught on tape for posterity).
As they rolled back out of our neighborhood 4 hours after showing up Fred and I had a good chuckle.
A: Boy, they sure are a bunch of geezers. F: More like "Hells Nappers."
Problem is, my bike didn't come with one. AND to make it worse, Fred didn't allow me to purchase one and instead offered me the one off of his bike. Not only is Fred's bell old but it's from his TREK bike and mine is a Specialized/Globe bike. Isn't that sort of like putting a Honda door on a Toyota? I think it is.
Take my little survey - Should Anna get to buy a new bell? (Preferably a red shiny one with a melodic little ding?)
Last Friday, Elliot and I had an entertaining/shocking conversation on our way to school and work. As usual, he points out EVERY bus and tells me what kind it is (skoo, cidee) and what color (yeddow, wyte) and that they're going to work and school too.
E: Momma, bus! Bus! A: Yep! E: Iss a cidee bus. Wyte cidee bus. A: Sure is. E: Whyre bus go? A: It turned - it probably has to pick up more people. E: Go werk? A: Yeah, people that need to go to work. A: Where else do the people go? E: (Thinking) E: Partee! A: What?! (Laughing) A: And what, exactly, are they going to do at the party? E: DANCE!!!!
I sincerely hope that daycare isn't teaching him about party buses. At least, not until he's a more mature 3.
Thank you, random homeless guy in downtown Lincoln.
While I did not have spare change, you offered this "pretty lady" some flowers. You even told me to have a nice day. Those flowers are now giving off an amazing fragrance that many co-workers have come in to admire.
Hopefully they don't call me in for receiving stolen property since I know you found this stem of lilac blossoms from outside the library.
I have to ask. He was a random homeless guy... but asking for change when he gave me the flowers. Does this still count as a Random Act of Kindness for him? Part of me hopes so - I found it to be kind of sweet.
Sweetheart, I love you but if you don't stop throwing your food on the ground in a fit of toddler-rage we're going to have issues. Oh, but you didn't stop there, did you. After you cleared the table with one big sweep of your arm you decided to take a swing at mommy. That's when this escapade came to a screeching halt.
In time out, out of time out and a hug with "I sorry mommy" whispered in my ear.
Then we needed to change your diaper. You laid down nicely and seemed to be waiting patiently as I took off your clothes and then the kicking began. I gave you two warnings to knock it off. It was when you kicked me in the face that I ended the game.
In time out (without pants), out of time out and a hug with "I sorry mommy" whispered in my ear.
While I know the apology is cute and sometimes melts my anger away it wasn't working at 6:20 this morning. I'm pretty sure it's something you HAVE to say at daycare and while I want to believe that you are too young to know just how mean and naughty you're being, I can't help but remember stories of both of your grandfathers' and even your dad's shenanigans. I take a moment and pause to reflect... and then mumble under my breath that you'll be a dead man if you pull the stunts they did.
Let that be a warning, Mr. Naughty. You're on thin ice already and you're only two.