A humorous look at the rather annoying questions children ask.
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Since we are barreling into those final weeks of summer vacation, my kids have decided that all the things have already been done and that those things are now “boring”. Perhaps your kids are like mine and they have become bored, as well. Perhaps you are like me and you smack them upside the head. Or perhaps you have more self-control than I.
Good for you.
Either way, I have compiled a list of end of summer must-do's for the “bored” child and the smacking parent.
1) Homemade slip-and-slides: This has become a particular favorite in the Costa home. To say we have experimented with variations of this is an understatement. In fact, I'm pretty sure we've never done it the same way twice. Key ingredients for this to work well are water, dish soap, and some form of slippery surface. Our most popular variation has been securing a large tarp to the end of their swing set slide. I douse the slide and tarp with soap and water, do the same thing to the kids (and even lather up their swim suits), and I spray them with the hose as they whiz past me on their way down the path. They literally slide a good 5 feet past the 20-foot tarp! And the best part? Their swim suit crotches will lather up like an out of control yeast infection, making it the perfect time to take embarrassing photos and threaten to show their future boy/girlfriends.
2) Obstacle courses: My kiddos started building these one day when they had a few friends over and, I gotta say, it was genius. They heaped bowls with water balloons, filled buckets with ice water, attached the sprinkler, and created pathways across the yard that each person had to run through while people literally chucked all forms of water at them. They seriously had just as much fun building the course as they did running through it!
3) Read for an hour each day: One hour of quietness… they can choose any book they want, and it doesn't matter how much they read as it matters how long they read. Trust me. You'll thank me for this one.
4) Create a play/skit/dance/song to perform: This is where your creative and outgoing child will shine! But even if your kid is a dud (like my son), he'll still have fun if you tell him that he can charge admission for the show. BUT I refuse to pay for a show of poor quality. I will demand a refund if it is not creative, not artistic, done with a negative attitude, and if it's under 15 minutes. Props and costumes are a great way to help them think outside of the box AND keep them busy for longer than 5 minutes. THIS is called Winning, folks.
5) Make your own board game: My children are ALWAYS asking me to play board games with them. However, I don't have the time to play games like it's my job. A great way to keep the bored ones busy and the smacking ones from smacking is to have the kids build their own board games. This way they spend plenty of time working on the construction of the game while the parents get their things done, and they will enjoy it even more when you can sit down later to play something that they developed all on their own.
6) Experimental Cooking, A.K.A. “Mini Chopped”: If you've seen the show, you know where I'm going with this. Give the kids each a set number of random cooking ingredients, set the timer for however long you feel is age-appropriate, and then let them go! For my kids, the stove is out of the question. But the microwave is fair game (as long as I'm supervising… did you know that kids will attempt to put all kinds of metal objects in the microwave? Even after telling them 45 times that this will blow our house up? Forty. Five. Times.) In the end, have them taste both dishes and vote. If there needs to be a tie-breaker, you can offer up your taste buds (if you dare) and cast the final vote.
7) Crazy Races: We all remember elementary gym class, right? That's where we learned how to skip, crab walk, bear crawl, compete in three-legged competitions, and slither like a worm. Sadly, gym class these days is all about sports (blah) and our kids are growing up in a world without the crab walk. You guys, this is a travesty. My son is quite literally the most uncoordinated human alive. He NEEDS the crab walk! And, since he's older and bigger and (amazingly enough) faster than my daughter, he hears the word “race” and immediately thinks that he'll win. However, having them do “Crazy Races” evens the playing field… and allows for parents to videotape their children looking absurd. YouTube, anyone?
8) Bury them in sand: If I have to tell you why this is amazing, then you are not my kind of people. Hello. They Are IMMOBILE. And if they keep yacking too much, just place the sand bucket over their head. Prepare to love me, Guys.
9) Hose Tag: I “invented” Hose Tag this summer as a way to keep my children and their friends from melting. It was sooooo hot and they were sooooo grouchy because of it. I couldn't blame them, so I picked up the hose and told them to start running. I counted to 15 and shot the first person I saw (with the jet stream, of course). That person was then frozen and couldn't be unfrozen unless another child ran and slid under their legs. I, as the shooter, would have to count to 15 again before I could spray anyone else. It's fun because they get cooled off and release some pent-up, heat-inducing energy…. And because you can shoot cold water at them. Everybody wins!
I hope these ideas help you and your children as you anxiously await the not-so-distant sounds of school buses rumbling toward your doorstep. Prayerfully we all make it to the end of summer without hearing the words “I'm booooored” one more time! And if all else fails, tell them to drop and give you 20.
***Warning: This Mama is kinda punchy. Proceed with caution!***
Can we take a moment and talk about toddlers? Yes. We can. (Why? Because I'm the one writing… I choose the topic, Friends, and today, I need to rant about the small people aged 1-3!)
Toddlers are this crazy half-breed of oversized-baby and grumpy old man, have you ever noticed that? They're partially non-verbal (which leads to a great deal of frustration for themselves and others), they walk with an awful lot of falling if there's not a supportive object to hold onto, desperately want their independence but need someone to make sure they aren't eating the deodorant again, require their food to be mashed or cut into small chunks, should wear a bib but what's the point of even trying, need some bathroom assistance (or things get pretty messy pretty quickly!), get grumpy easily and without provocation (particularly if a nap is missed), love to play with keys but probably should not be driving, have about half of their teeth, thin/fine hair, and are chunky in all the wrong parts.
Sound familiar? It should. Because toddlers and grumpy old men make their presence known more than the average person. Seriously, my little man farted in the doctor's office today and smiled sweetly when he was finished. You know who else did the same thing? The old man about 4 seats away from us. (He, also, smiled sweetly.) My older toddler sneaks into the pantry to get junk food when no one is looking, despite being told 'No' about a thousand times. You know who else used to do the same thing when he was alive? My grandpa. Tell the man a million times that he has diabetes and can't have chocolate, and he'd pop one of those candies into his mouth, barely taking the time to unwrap it first!
It's like toddlers are just practicing for the day when they can shuffle around the Senior Center, whacking unsuspecting people in the shins with their canes. Do you wanna know why toddlers aren't like little old ladies? Because little old ladies are NICE. Toddlers, quite frankly, are pint-sized jerks. (Ok, not all the time, but A LOT of the time!) Case in point….
Today, I needed to go get my allergy shot. I noticed that the line was incredibly long, so I took my munchkin to the lovely air-conditioned store so we could pick up a few items while we killed a bit of time. But munchkin was not happy in the air-conditioned store. Rather, he was not happy that he had to sit in the shopping cart. He proceeded to share his dissatisfaction with the entire store, exhibited by screaming, grabbing things off the shelves and then throwing them, grabbing things out of the cart and throwing them, standing up in his cart and trying to crawl out, and smacking me every time I got into arm's reach. So… that was fun.
To save the other patrons a headache, I let my gremlin loose on the ground. Finally… he stopped screaming. However, he did clear off the bottom racks of at least two aisles before I was able to catch him. He also shoved my cart over my sandaled toes, hit a saleswoman, and pulled down three pairs of sunglasses from a full rack, nearly toppling it as he did so. He also decided to learn the word “No” today… he practiced it loudly and frequently. He did not like it when I practiced it back.
We finally made it to my allergist and, lo and behold, Mr. Mood Swing turned on his big cheesy grin as he shared his bag of Cheerios with a couple next to us. This was before he made a mad dash for the elevator and threw himself against the door in a screaming fit because it wouldn't open to let him inside. Once we were actually in the elevator and going back down to the 1st floor, he threw another fit because he wanted back out of the elevator. (I mean, who can argue with that kind of logic, really?)
And what's with the irrational fears that go along with this crazy little age? Loves the vacuum cleaner but is terrified the grass. Doesn't blink an eye at fireworks but loses his mind when water touches his face. The two-year-old has also decided that fear shall rule his world without reason. He's decided to be terrified of clouds. Why? Because he's afraid that every cloud he sees will bring thunder. And how do you explain to a toddler that white clouds on a sunny day and storm clouds on a rainy day are different? Oh, you can't. Don't even try. Because either way, whatever the cloud-type, this is what you'll get….
This is followed by sobs and half-prononced words like “FUNDER!” and “POWER!” He also believes that every evening, the power goes out. Why? Because the sun goes away. Nevermind that our lights still turn on… we have lost power. Plain and simple. And if you dare suggest catching lightening bugs outside, be prepared for a short-legged little man to go barreling past you at full speed, holding his ears and screaming “FUNDER!” the whole way. (Please. For the love of God. Call them fire flies!!)
In order to make a little more rational sense out of the picture, my husband offered up this beautiful portrait as a replacement.
At least this would make sense, right??
I'd like to say that it'll be better when they're older, but I have two older children, so I know that's a lie. And I'm pretty sure I've never met a rational teenager, so that's probably out of the question, too. One thing is for certain: children do NOT get more lucid as they age. It appears that people show small amounts of rational hope somewhere around mid-life, but then it's back to that half-breed we spoke of earlier.
So, until mid-life, I'll keep picking up thrown objects, hugging in between punches, and devouring the shared Cheerios… even if they are slimy and covered in dog hair.
People who bring their young children on day trips must be medicated. I see no other possible answer. Because I have done the day trip thing. I have packed the coolers, stocked the diaper bags, loaded up multiple changes of clothes, the sunblock, the towels, the bug spray, the strollers… I’ve packed our van so full of all the possible things we could need that it then becomes impossible to find the children amidst the bags and bags of necessities.
As Moms, we prepare for all things. We have to. Because if we don’t, something terrible will happen… something like…. People will have to go without an afternoon snack. Or people will have to share towels…. Or people will have to carry their own belongings instead of using the stroller as their own personal pack mule. Guys. These are NOT terrible things. But we, the Moms, know that the terrible thing is what occurs if all these small people are not given their way or are slightly inconvenienced.
The whining. The crying. The tantrums. The perpetual question-asking about the item that is not packed. The embarrassing mooching off of strangers to make up for their lack of item that is missing (did you know that toddlers will literally walk up to other people’s coolers and take food for themselves, shoveling it into their little mouths without a second thought? Yeah. That’s awkward.). The sighs of exasperation. The ungrateful attitudes for taking them on a day trip in the first place.
This is why we prepare for all things. This is why people who bring their young children on day trips must be medicated.
There is a local waterpark that our family had yet to try. So, in a moment of courage (and insanity), I scheduled a day trip to the park for our family of 6 and my sister-in-law, along with her three kids. We were outnumbered, yes, but since my niece and nephews are slightly older, we knew we’d have extra hands, thankfully.
We arrived at the park and realize we’d forgotten the worst possible thing. The diaper bag. Hello… what are we, rookies?? Luckily, I had two swim diapers for each of the little boys in my own swim bag. But no wipes, no baby snacks, no regular diapers for the way home. This last one would come back to haunt us in the end.
With children and adults loaded up with the rest of our packed belongings, we made our way through the sea of people to the dreaded changing rooms. Husband and I decided to divide and conquer… which usually looks a lot like us dividing and screaming, without ever actually reaching the conquering stage. He took our oldest and the 2-year-old while I took our daughter and the 1-year-old.
I could write an entire blog on changing rooms. But to sum it up, let’s just say: 1) They’re gross with wet, slippery floors that cause overloaded Mamas to fall and small children to slip and whack their little noggins on a slimy, grimy surface. 2) They smell. Enough said. 3) Children who have been exposed to not so great things in the past tend to stare uncomfortably at strangers’ naked bodies in communal dressing areas, despite zillions of talks about the inappropriateness of the situation. 4) 1-year-olds can and will crawl out of your dressing room while you are half-naked with your pants around your ankles and unable to chase them. 5) You will have exactly 2.5 seconds to wiggle yourself into a too-small one-piece and pack up all your crap before a 7-year-old will begin pestering you about taking too long. 6) Babies hate swim diapers and will attempt to thrown themselves off of changing tables at the site of them. 7) You will hear your 2-year-old screaming bloody murder from the next room. 8) So will everyone else. 9) Your 7-year-old will announce to one and all that the screamer belongs to us. 10) Everyone will stare at you with sour faces.
By the time we emerged from the changing room, I had already regretted our decision to come to the waterpark. I was sweaty and exhausted, and we’d only just begun! Luckily, there was no gate around the pool area, so our impulsive two-year-old had free and clear access to a day full of drowning. Thankfully, the 1-year-old decided to hate water with a very high degree of passion, and he expressed that passion exuberantly when brought anywhere near the water. Good thing it was a waterpark.
Happy... as long as kept away from all sources of water.
The big kids were off and running. Where to? We never really did find out. They popped back to our camp of towels and lawn chairs long enough to binge on snacks before rushing off again.
And this is why we couldn't find him!
The 7-year-old, still struggling to get the hang of swimming, was required to stay with a big person for the day. “But Mom,” she complains, “Watch, I can swim underwater!”
“No, baby, that’s called sinking. Stay where you can touch and keep with us or your big cousin.”
Patiently waiting for an adult to swim with her.
As a parent, you know that day outings aren’t about you. They’re obviously about the kids. That’s why you hold your pee in the entire day, so you don’t have to get everyone out of the pool and stand outside the restrooms without wandering off. And that’s why you forgo all the yummy snacks you packed, just in case one of the little ones would happen to get hungry later on. It’s why you hold your head high when the baby knocks your left boob out of its swim-suited holster as he tantrums over his missed nap and you try to one-handedly fix your suit while not dropping him on his head. Its why you wait in line with a swarm of 8-year-olds to go down the world’s slowest water slide, because your daughter is terrified of you not being at the bottom to catch her when her time arrives. And it’s why you smile as your 2-year-old pees a river in the sand pit and you have no other choice but to kick a neighboring sand castle over it and hurry him from the play area.
Pre-River-Making.
How do other mothers look so relaxed, so calm on these outings? Do they not have worries? Are they not fearful of kidnappers, sun poisoning, dehydration, tantrums, slip and fall accidents? Have they NOT seen the dry-drowning article on Facebook??? I know I’m a worry-wart… it just took so long to get these kids in the first place. I can’t imagine having to start all over. Because in the words of one of society’s greatest poets, “Ain’t nobody got time for that.”
But at the end of the day, no one ingested a horrible amount of water and showed signs of dry-drowning. (All those nightmares… all that panic!) Everyone was appropriately sunscreened with only a few random body parts that were missed, evident by odd streaking patterns. All were happy, all were fed, and all were sufficiently worn out. But none of them more than me. For I had been holding my breath against all that could have gone wrong all day. And some of them did, but a lot of them didn’t. Sure, the toddler walked into the house and urinated all over the floor, which then spread to the baby toys and books…. But it’s not his fault we left the diaper bag at home!
So, when my sister-in-law suggested that we do another date to the waterpark before the kids go back to school, I offered up an enthusiastic Yes! After all, what’s the worst thing that could happen?
Today, Taylor had dental surgery. Let me start off by saying that anxiety-ridden 7-year-old girls who already have a high propensity for drama, mixed with the expectancy of teeth extractions, equals one hot mess! The poor thing was born into bad teeth. I know this because her biological mother had no teeth. Nada. Zero. Zip. Her biological brother, also our son, Cameron, also has terrible teeth. She’s already had multiple fillings. Caps and orthodontic work are a given. Extractions are a must.
Despite brushing twice daily and consuming very little sugary products, we still have found ourselves in a stressful predicament. The days/weeks of nerve-wracking anticipation for the grand teeth pulling, the months of headaches, the gum pain, the tears… oh, the tears! Let’s just say our dramatic princess has been even more emotional than usual!
My alarm went off at 5 am and I staggered nauseously down the stairs to Taylor’s room. I turned on her light and touched her arm. And before her little eyes even opened, the tears started slipping from beneath her long lashes. But there was no time for another cry-session as we had to be out the door by 5:15, so I hustled her along and we were in the van without a moment to spare. She asked to watch a movie in the car. She chose The Tooth Fairy.
It seemed appropriate and kept her occupied on our 1-hour trip to the surgery center. Miraculously, she held herself together through the intake process, even when we had to go through yet another explanation of her adoption, talking about her past family’s health issues, and completing another change in guarantors on her medical forms. (Side note: how many times do we have to do this? Shouldn’t we be in the system by now? It’s been 3 ½ years since the adoption already! Don’t these people know that talking about the bio family each and every time we have to go to a doctor isn’t helping my kids??)
Once we got back to the prep-room, the nerves reemerged. Luckily for me (and now, for all of you), Taylor was given Silly Juice. And let me tell you, it lived up to every bit of its name! In less than 10 minutes, my shy/nervous/clingy little girl turned into the picture of a tipsy patron who had just emerged from the local establishment. She was, in fact, a walking margarita.
It started with the giggles. There she was, in her gown and cap and fuzzy socks, cracking herself up like a loon.
After listening to her cackle at six-bloody-thirty in the morning, I casually mentioned that I could really use another cup of coffee. This was her response to me:
“Mommy! Don’t EVER stop drinking coffee…. It’ll just ruin my life!”
(Ok, I was starting to feel amused.)
“Why’s that, Tay?”
“Because of all the spaces!”
“Because of what spaces, honey?”
“What spaces?”
“I don’t know that’s what I’m asking you.”
“What spaces?”
(Trying not to giggle) “I don’t know honey, nevermind.”
(Terror suddenly spread across her face.) “Holy crap, where ARE we?”
(Ok, definitely starting to giggle.) “Honey, we’re at the dentist, remember?”
“Oh… did Wyatt run away? Where did he go?” (She starts frantically looking around for the baby.)
“Taylor, Wyatt is at home with Daddy. We didn’t bring him, remember?”
“Bring him where? Where are we?”
(Ok, giggling is turning to all-out laughter.) “We’re at the dentist, honey. Here, you wanna play a game on my phone while you wait?”
I set her up with a kid’s app that allows her to practice typing like in a text message. She typed her name. Five minutes later, she typed me this gem and slurred an explanation that this was a love letter to me.
I thanked her for the lovely message… whatever it said. That’s when Daddy called on the phone to say hi to her. She grabbed for the phone and started talking into it upside-down. I helped her flip the phone the correct way and she proceeded to giggle and slur all sorts of silly things, spit slipping from the corners of her mouth in tiny bubbles. As she talked, her eyes began rolling in circles and she told me that I have more than one head. (It was obviously time to take the phone.)
“Mommy…. I wanna see the streen. The streen. The streen. The…. I don’t know. Doyouhaveany lipstip? Lickstip? Litstick? Litstit? For my lits?”
And this is why I started taking videos. I don’t care, you can call it exploitation of a child when they’re in a vulnerable state. But I call it Heaven. When I die, I expect this to be played on a continuous loop while I’m in that mansion in the sky. Yes. This is my favorite thing ever.
Suddenly, my daughter raises her finger as if saying “Check please!” as she yelled to a passing doctor. “Exxxxuse me? Where’s my mudder? My mudder? My mother?” The doctor chuckled and made a comment about the fantastic powers of Silly Juice as I gently touched her arm and assured her that I was directly next to her…. Exactly where I had been for the past 45 minutes. She looked at me like I was an alien. Then, with sudden recognition, she goes, “Heeeyyyy. I see you there! Ha. Ha ha. Hahaha, hehe. Hum.”
Is it wrong that I love her more like this? I mean, that is wrong, isn’t it. It is. I know it is. Ok. Sorry. (Actually, no I’m not. This is fan-tas-tic!)
And then it got even better. As I was just finishing a text to my husband, I looked back up and noticed that my daughter was sliding out of her chair like a slippery fish. She looked like pure liquid as she seamlessly glided over each bump and curve of the big recliner. She landed in a puddle on the floor and laughed so loudly that nurses came running to see what the commotion was! I picked up my jello-y daughter and tried to situate her back in the chair, but it was no use. She was a complete blob.
So, I slumped her as best as I could and secured her pillow and blankets around her to keep her upright. And then…. Stage two of Silly Juice set in. This is where she started tripping.
“Ahh, oooohhhh…. I don’t want my teeeeeeeth pulled!” (Sobs. Tears. Yells.)
“Where am I? Oh my gosh, where am I??” (Fear. Terror. Hysterics.)
“Moooommmmmy! I’m having bad dreams!” (Hallucinations. Horror. Panic.)
“Hey, you look funny… I look funny. Ha, am I upside-down?”
“Don’t let them kill me, Mommy…… pleeeeaaaaase!!”
Ok, it was getting less funny very quickly. The nurses said I could pick her up and hold her until her gurney arrived. She asked if I would “cubble” her. I think she meant cuddle. So I did. And when her bed showed up outside our curtained room, she wailed in fear.
She screamed my name for all to hear as they wheeled her down the hall and out of sight. And it was definitely not my favorite part. I remembered back to a time several years ago when she used to scream for her biological mom like that. I used to feel so hurt. And now, even though her screams broke my heart, I felt a sense of warmth pour through me. I am that mommy now.
I returned to my place in the waiting room, sipping my 6th cup of teeny, tiny coffee as I patiently froze to death in the sub-zero temperatures of the office. My coffee tasted like dirt. I was contemplating a 7th cup with the doctor came into the waiting room.
“First off, your daughter did great. So no worries. Two teeth pulled, two capped, two filled. Secondly, does your daughter tend to be a little dramatic? I checked her over good and she’s in great health, everything went well, she didn’t even need stitches. But she’s very difficult to calm down. Is that normal?”
“She got a papercut once and wanted to go to the ER. And then there was the time she got a splinter and I thought she was being murdered when my husband tried taking it out… he hadn’t even touched her yet when she started screaming. So…. Yeah. Normal.”
“Ok! Just checking. You guy are good to go!”
On the way home, she was every bit the gem I’d envisioned she’d be. I thought about taking her back to the hospital and asking them to keep her until the new teeth grew back in. But it hardly seemed fair to their staff. Not that she’s not in pain… I know it must feel terrible! But once she started sobbing uncontrollably over the vanity of having caps and now looking “stupid like Cameron”, I decided it was probably time for a mandatory nap!
And she’s been sleeping ever since. The final stage of the Silly Juice is apparently a coma. And for this, I am grateful.