That One Time I Overshared on the Interwebs

That one time... If only it were that few.

I'm single parenting it for two weeks. To most people this would scare them but not me. Sure I miss my husband but it isn't all that much different and I get Sam's undivided attention.

Rad-sauce.

Except I forgot it is swim lesson weeks and I have an extra child to care for on swim lesson night.

No big deal. Tacos cook up quick. Problem solved.

Until I realized I have two children to entertain and feed and I have a grocery list three deep and two items on it are time sensitive. Bummer.

So I improvised and made a very awkward text request to my friend who will be picking up her child shortly from my care.

I text her the following:

Random favor: can you either stop at Walmart and pick up a few things for me (drano, tampons, and frozen broccoli... Don't be jealous of my glamorous life) or sit with the kids while I run there real fast? Two of the items are time sensitive lol
One isn't broccoli

I just knew she'd take the watch the kids option but much to my pleasure and surprise she said she'd stop by Walmart.

SUCCESS!

Then I heard "SPLASH" and, two children in unison go, "UH-OH..."

For the second time today, I need to clean up spilled milk. Ugh.

Off I trot to my clothes hamper to get a towel... Until... I see...

A damned spider blocking my path.

Folks... Two things I refuse to do at my house: 1) weedeat 2) kill spiders

Eff. My. Life.

I seriously assessed what I thought the damage would be if I just left the milk on the hardwood floors.

Is replacing the floor that high of a price to pay?

I started looking for options. I considered chemical warfare but at my disposal was glass cleaner and febreeze and if this sucker got loose without dying I wouldn't sleep.

I considered squishing it with a shoe.

All of mine were trapped in my room blocked by Shasty McNasty Spider Pants.

About this time, Sam says, "I know! I'll kill it, Momma!"

Pause. Stare.

This. Is. Genius.

And also...

I'm the biggest sissy to walk the planet.

He puts on a shoe. Lily decides to help.

Two three year olds saved me from a spider. And I love them for it.

I leave you with a picture of the war zone. I'm off to unclog the shower.

Oh and also, when getting Sam a diaper for bed, I ran into ANOTHER spider. Bit never fear! I dispatched Go-Go Gadget Sam and after 15 tries and chasing it around the kitchen, he killed it.

Whew! After I unclog the shower I think I'll burn the house down. Just in case.

Posting from phone: yes he used the big pink as a weapon. Your eyes are not deceiving you.

Swim Lessons: Take 3

To appreciate this post, you should really read Take 1 and 2. 

To say that I had a rough day would be an  understatement. It isn't important why the day was rough necessarily. Some days are good. Some days are rough. This one can definitely be filed in the "rough" category. 

And as evidenced in Take 1 of swim lessons, I could see that taking Sam to swim lessons was probably going to be pretty crappy. I know that in his lessons with me he did really well. And up until the time my day turned pretty crappy, I believed he was going to do great. 

But when I set any expectations of Sam in the way of "good behavior vs. bad behavior," I'm always wrong. Always. 

I managed to get to Susan's and get Sam. He seemed excited. He promised me he would be brave. He demanded he get to use his brand new noodle and not the noodle of the common folk (AKA noodles provided by the LRRC). I promised him a surprise if he was brave and didn't cry and did everything Daniel said. 

And then, to my surprise, he did great! He laughed and played with Daniel. Did what Daniel asked of him. Freaked out a little but not to the point of crying when Daniel let go. 

And then... at the end... he went down the slide! 

I realize you all aren't Sam's mother so you are thinking to you self, "Well... la tee freaking da!"

For a boy that just two days ago was clinging for dear life should you even hint that you would leave him and that noodle to their own devices...this is a big deal. 

Daniel was so excited...I was so excited... Sam was so excited... good times! 

Here is the video of it... not that you care... 



When he got out of the pool, he came running to me to tell me all about it. Then he got a sucker and off we went. 

Then he loudly proclaimed, "MOMMA! Dat boy over dare scares me." As he points. 

I couldn't tell who he was talking about so I just decided we should just leave. 

When in the car (after calling PaPa to tell him all about how brave he was), I asked him to describe the boy who freaked him out. 

He says, "He was wound (round) and his hair and cheeks were red!"

This is the best I can come up with... 



I promise, I did not see this kid there. 

We traveled on home and I had every intention of taking Sam to Chick-fil-a as his surprise for being so brave. 

Until we got home and he announced, "my pee pee came out." 

Sonofabitch.

He has not peed his pants since the Braves won a World Series. Good grief. 

And did he just pee his pants a little bit? 

Nope. 

He SOAKED the chair, the fabric, and... oh yes... the seat of the car. I drive the urine mobile now. 

Awesome. 

To say I had a mini-stroke-like meltdown is an understatement. Justin decided his role should be to make sure I didn't beat my child or throw a piss covered car seat at him. I'm proud to say I held it together to at least accomplish this. However, I informed Justin that perhaps it was best if him and Sam went by themselves to eat since I clearly shouldn't be allowed near people. 

He agreed. Good man. 

Guys... I seriously came straight inside, went to my bedroom, got in my pajamas and laid very still on the bed. That's it. No one talking to me. No tv on. Nothing. For about 20 minutes or so. It was just what I needed. 

Sam was afraid I was mad at him and was worried that I wasn't eating so he made sure Daddy brought something home for me. He really is a sweet kid. 

Once I had chilled enough and recharged a bit, I decided I needed to document this with a blog. I like to remember things and blogging is therapuetic for me. 

When I got to the part about the kid that scared him (aka Patrick Renna apparently), Sam came in the house and brought me my tacos. 

He looks on the screen and says, "MOMMA! DAT IS DA BOY DAT SCARED ME!"

I was just trying to be funny! That's what I pictured when he described him to me and I just knew there was no way. 

So what have I concluded from this? 

There are two possible explanations:

1) My son is afraid of gingers and any ginger looks the same to him. 

or 

2) When Sam sees gingers, he really sees this... 

Swim Lessons Take 1 and 2

Last year we took Sam to swim lessons. He was two and we got started a little late in the summer. Basically he learned how to kick his feet, windmill his arms (not at the same time), and blow bubbles in the water.

This year we wanted to get started early so maybe he'd be able to actually swim by the end. Or at least not freeze when accidentally falling into the water (yeah, that happened).

So Tuesday we took him to his first private swim lesson of the summer. He was so excited! He was going to swim!

He was beaming with excitement when I picked him up.

Then he met Daniel, his swim coach. (Or "Ross" according to Sam. We have no idea where he got that but he is convinced)

Daniel was highly recommended because of how good he is with children. And I have to agree.

I took Sam up the pool where Daniel was already in. I hugged him and told him to have fun. He clung to my neck.

I said, "Sam, he is a lifeguard. Either go to him now or I'm throwing you in. He is trained. He'll get you."

This was just the  motivation he needed (though he was still cautiously apprehensive).

He then clung to Daniel. Which was fine for a little bit while they got used to each other. But it is really hard to learn to swim that way.

So Daniel started encouraging him to hold on to the noodle and not to him.

Sam: NOOOOOOOO!!!! NOO!!!!!!!!! DON'T LET GO OF ME!!!!! NOOOOOOOO!!!!!!

Great.

Anyone else picture this?

I'll never let go!

From then on, Sam screamed bloody murder. For the  next 26 minutes or so. 

Daniel was so patient with him though. Smiled the whole time and continued to work with him. 

Did I mention that Sam did everything that was asked of him? He did. Screaming like he was just asked to get in the back of a van. 

Daniel told me when they were done that Sam needs to work on detaching from whoever is in the pool with him. So if we could work on that, he'd learn really fast (as evidenced in his complying with Daniel's wishes whilst screaming). 

Yesterday, Sam and I got into the pool to do just that. 

He is deathly afraid of letting go of the person in the pool. 

Never fear! Tough love Mommy is here! 

I gave him no choice. Grab the noodle or sink. 

He grabbed the noodle. And cried. 

I had my hands on the noodle too but he wanted to hold onto my hands. I let that go for a bit but when he was used to the noodle, I told him I was going to move his hands. 

Which translated to him that I was going to whip him with a car antennae. 

Oh the screaming. 

So I said, "Everytime you grab for my hands, I take a hand off of the noodle completely."

Simple math would equate that he has two chances until I'm not holding on at all. 

He is pert good at math for a 3 year old. He tried once and then flipped out and had a death grip on the noodle.

Success! 

By the end of our pool experience (AKA: Momma laying the smack down) he was not only kicking hard while holding onto the noodle and me not touching him at all, he did it a few times with me not holding at all!

He even smiled and laughed some. 

I know. Shut. Up. 

So we took a celebratory picture. 

We were so proud! He came a long way in just one lesson.

So we decided to celebrate with ice cream (dairy free of course!).

We have our second lesson with Daniel (Ross) today. I'm sure Sam will scream bloody murder and make a liar out of me. That's how we do things round these parts. 

Sam is Happy to Help... and a Bit Bitter

If you have followed this blog for any amount of time, you know there isn't much my son does that surprises me anymore.

Until the next day, when he surprises me again.

On Friday, I got a call from a friend about her friends getting to adopt a little boy through DHS. I am a big supporter of adopting through DHS (not to knock other types of adoption, I just have a heart for the kids the government is trying to pay people to take and yet they age out of the system with no one to love them) so I was ecstatic when I found out the little boy was three.

Oh and they had the weekend to prepare to get this 3 year old boy. No biggie.

My 3 year old happens to be very blessed. His clothes don't fit in the drawers, he has shoes in every color of the rainbow, and bins upon bins of toys.

And he is very giving. I have only had to "talk him into" giving his toys to others who need them more than he does one time. Any other time, he is happy to give. And the one time I had to talk him into it, when he realized that other kids didn't have any toys, he cried because that made him sad. Seriously.

So when I told Sam about this little boy who was going to get to have a home with parents who love him but wouldn't have any toys to play with, Sam seemed pretty cool about letting him have some of his toys.

We picked out some books, some cars, and other random toys. We threw in some random things. He had two motorized cars so we gave one of those to him. And we had an extra toddler bed that doesn't get much use and this little boy didn't have a bed. (Two days is very little notice to go out and buy all of this stuff!)

Today, this little boy's daddy (my friend now... we've known each other less than a week but... we are friends... HI MATT!) sent me a picture of his son playing with some of the toys. My heart melted.

Number 1: He is ADORABLE!

Number 2: He looked so happy playing with those toys!

I told Sam about it when I came home and he wanted to see the pictures. We got settled in the chair and looked at the picture. We had also gotten an adorable video of the little boy playing with their dog and Sam watched it over and over and over again.

I said, "Sam, does it make you feel good to know he had some of your toys to play with when he got to his new home?"

Sam said, "Yeah."

We talked about it a little more and Sam seemed very happy to have shared his toys with this other boy. He even said something to that effect a few times.

Justin and I were beaming. Justin even gave him some extra candy for being so nice as to share his toys with someone who needed them more.

Isn't that just a wonderful story?!

Too bad it isn't over.

Because shortly after, Sam wanted to tell me a ghost story. And it went a little something like this...

"Once upon a time there was a ghost. And he flew all around and scared people. He came into the house and broke everything! Then his Momma took all his toys and gave them to someone else and then he was sad.
 The end."

Now I'm no literary scholar, but methinks my son may be harboring a bit of bitterness... no?

P.S. He is just a little shit. I swear he does this to me just to see if I get that he is taking a stab at me. Little. Shit.

P.P.S. My husband just informed me that I had threatened to give all of Sam's toys away earlier in the night because he refused to play with them. There is a chance I am the little shit.