Thursday, August 11, 2011

Storms and such

I live in Wisconsin.  We don't generally play host to tropical storms or the dreaded hurricane.  We do get the occasional tornado, but since they're not named, they don't apply to this RANT.  This week, my house has been overtaken by Tropical Storm Kaia and Hurricane Mikko.  Not surprisingly, neither has been officially recorded, but I can attest to their existence.

Tropical Storm Kaia has been brewing for a while now.  She hasn't been sleeping well.  She's teething.  She's two...  It was inevitable.  This morning she told me, "Mommy, when I talk, you have to LISTEN TO ME!"  Um, okay, kid.  All day it was "No, Mommy" this and "No, Mommy" that.  She freaked when I took her jammies shirt off to change her into her clothes, then she freaked again when I took off her regular shirt to put back on her jammies shirt.  WTF is that!?  The swirling winds really picked up when mean mommy made homemade pizzas and tried to make her EAT IT!  I decided that I was boss and sat her in her chair despite her protests.  She screamed and cried for five minutes before I gave in and let her get down without even a bite.  Then she cried bloody murder because I wouldn't get up from the table.  After I finished eating, she cried for a sticker.  Then she got the sticker stuck on her play kitchen and cried for a new sticker.  She didn't want the new sticker because I cut it out instead of giving her the sticky side, trying to avoid a repeat of the original sticker's demise.  Seriously, child.  I got her juice, brushed her teeth, read her a story and had her in bed by a merciful 7:05 p.m.  She was crying again within 5 minutes.  I went in her room where she was still laying down and she said, "I want Dora."  I said, "Sweetie, you have Dora right here."  "I DON'T want Dora," she clarifies.  Alright, Kaia, I'll take Dora with me, but could you please sleep off whatever this attitude this is so that I don't lose my mind??

Ah, Hurricane Mikko.  I considered letting Mikko be the mild tropical storm and giving Kaia the title of "hurricane."  She kind of seems to deserve it.  Yet Mikko gave me his own version of crazy and it was quite a bit more destructive and stressful, so Hurricane Mikko it is.  So Mikko likes to be on the couch now.  He's a big boy, you know.  I watch him pretty carefully because he likes to stand and he's already taken a header off the couch.  Because I watch him so closely, I was a mere 12 inches from him when he bounced himself backward which propelled him forward.  Right. Into. The. Corner.  The arm of the couch is padded, but not on the very very very edge.  Instead, it's a wooden edge covered by suede fabric.  Little dude had a knot so big and blue that it made my stomach turn a little.  This morning he woke up with a broken blood vessel in his eye.  This afternoon I ran to find him crying because he had pinched his fingers in a drawer (and was holding the drawer closed on them with his other hand).  I rescued him from that and sent him on his way.  Not 30 seconds later, he was chewing on a screw he pulled from the wall.  Later, he went tearing up the stairs at Grandma's house and when she blocked those off with a gate, he started to climb the side of the stairs that is an open banister.  Hurricane Mikko.

So I'm taking the day off tomorrow and I wouldn't mind getting a mommy break, but as it happens, I'll be spending the day with my little loves.  If it's awful, I'll just consider it research.  Or normal.