El Hubbo has flown the coop and headed to the Fort Worth Stock Show. This leaves me alone in the battle for supremacy of the household. Much creative maneuvering is required if one wishes to outwit and survive the short ones' quest for world domination.
I decided tonight I would distract them with crafts. Why on earth wouldn't I want them to have access to an arsenal of glue, markers, and scizzors? What is that you say? I'm asking for trouble? You might be right, but it actually went quite well. Plus, it appears that if you let them sniff enough glue and markers they will go to sleep earlier. Bonus fact, if you sniff enough markers, you really won't care what kind of a mess they are making.
I thought it would be fun for them to make Valentine cards. We dug through the "art box" which is a collection of markers, crayons, stickers, glitter, ribbon, fabric, paints, and other junk awaiting to be turned into a fantastic creation. Once a complete mess of ribbon, cut-out hearts, and glitter was scattered upon my kitchen counter, chairs, and floor, we were ready to begin. I turned on my latest favorite thing: AT&T channel 5131 Classic Country and got busy.
I love classic country. It does make me a little sad that songs from my childhood are now considered "classic". The kids were quite entertained by their mama belting out "All the Gold In California" by the Gatlin Bros. My sister and I sang that song from the backseat of my grandpa's truck over and over as we drove through the mountains during our summer trip to visit him and my grandma. Cutting out paper hearts to the tune of T.G. Shepherd's "The Last Cheater's Waltz" somehow seemed a little wrong, but we did it anyway. 9 to 5 came on and Jake recognized Dolly Parton from some recent movie ads - he was quite amazed to find out she was singing "way back" when I was a kid. Then there was "Going, Going, Gone" by Lee Greenwood, which made me think of my first stereo and the first "tape" I ever had to play on it - yep, Lee Greenwood. I had to stand up and almost howl when Charlie Daniel's "Drinkin' My Baby Goodbye" came on - my best 42 partner in college (Ty Clevenger) and I would alter the lyrics slightly and start belting this one out as we put the hurt on our opponents.
Such fun. When my concert for the kiddos was over, Jake went to take a shower while Emma and I started cleaning up. My brief escape to my past was definitely over when I heard a loud thump, followed by the increasingly higher pitch scream of a hurt child. I hustled to the bathroom to find my eldest with blood streaking down his face. Upon inspection, he only had a bloody nose, and I considered it quite good fortune that it had taken place in the shower. I told him to hold still while I shoved a kleenex up his nose. His response? (You know he had one.) "Mama! Why do you want to shove something up a hurt little kid's nose? Can't you see I'm bleeding here?" In my oh-so-sympathetic way, I responded, "Hush and do what I tell you. Don't step out and get blood on my rugs."
While he finished up, I went to get my supplies. Having played softball for 28 years, having a father who forces you to watch countless hours of boxing, and having worked for a veterinarian will all teach you a thing or two about patching up basic wounds. My methods are probably not EMT-approved, however, they do generally get the job done. Jake has not developed an appreciation for my wound treatments, and generally attempts to hide until he thinks I may have forgotten to tend to him. I did not, however, forget this time, as I do love treating a bloody nose. I keep vaseline on hand just for this occasion. I wrestled down the squirming, still damp boy and inserted the vaseline covered cotton ball. He kicked and fought back quite valiantly, and I'm pretty sure he said something to the effect of, "Hey! How far are you going to shove that thing? A little boy's brain is up there!" Emma, a girl after her mother's heart, examined my work up close and declared it good. I'm pretty sure I'll have to remove toilet paper and kleenexes from the noses of all her dolls tomorrow.
Alas, that was the end of the excitement for the evening. Round one is complete. We'll see how the old girl (me) holds out for the next few rounds with the kiddos.
I decided tonight I would distract them with crafts. Why on earth wouldn't I want them to have access to an arsenal of glue, markers, and scizzors? What is that you say? I'm asking for trouble? You might be right, but it actually went quite well. Plus, it appears that if you let them sniff enough glue and markers they will go to sleep earlier. Bonus fact, if you sniff enough markers, you really won't care what kind of a mess they are making.
I thought it would be fun for them to make Valentine cards. We dug through the "art box" which is a collection of markers, crayons, stickers, glitter, ribbon, fabric, paints, and other junk awaiting to be turned into a fantastic creation. Once a complete mess of ribbon, cut-out hearts, and glitter was scattered upon my kitchen counter, chairs, and floor, we were ready to begin. I turned on my latest favorite thing: AT&T channel 5131 Classic Country and got busy.
I love classic country. It does make me a little sad that songs from my childhood are now considered "classic". The kids were quite entertained by their mama belting out "All the Gold In California" by the Gatlin Bros. My sister and I sang that song from the backseat of my grandpa's truck over and over as we drove through the mountains during our summer trip to visit him and my grandma. Cutting out paper hearts to the tune of T.G. Shepherd's "The Last Cheater's Waltz" somehow seemed a little wrong, but we did it anyway. 9 to 5 came on and Jake recognized Dolly Parton from some recent movie ads - he was quite amazed to find out she was singing "way back" when I was a kid. Then there was "Going, Going, Gone" by Lee Greenwood, which made me think of my first stereo and the first "tape" I ever had to play on it - yep, Lee Greenwood. I had to stand up and almost howl when Charlie Daniel's "Drinkin' My Baby Goodbye" came on - my best 42 partner in college (Ty Clevenger) and I would alter the lyrics slightly and start belting this one out as we put the hurt on our opponents.
Such fun. When my concert for the kiddos was over, Jake went to take a shower while Emma and I started cleaning up. My brief escape to my past was definitely over when I heard a loud thump, followed by the increasingly higher pitch scream of a hurt child. I hustled to the bathroom to find my eldest with blood streaking down his face. Upon inspection, he only had a bloody nose, and I considered it quite good fortune that it had taken place in the shower. I told him to hold still while I shoved a kleenex up his nose. His response? (You know he had one.) "Mama! Why do you want to shove something up a hurt little kid's nose? Can't you see I'm bleeding here?" In my oh-so-sympathetic way, I responded, "Hush and do what I tell you. Don't step out and get blood on my rugs."
While he finished up, I went to get my supplies. Having played softball for 28 years, having a father who forces you to watch countless hours of boxing, and having worked for a veterinarian will all teach you a thing or two about patching up basic wounds. My methods are probably not EMT-approved, however, they do generally get the job done. Jake has not developed an appreciation for my wound treatments, and generally attempts to hide until he thinks I may have forgotten to tend to him. I did not, however, forget this time, as I do love treating a bloody nose. I keep vaseline on hand just for this occasion. I wrestled down the squirming, still damp boy and inserted the vaseline covered cotton ball. He kicked and fought back quite valiantly, and I'm pretty sure he said something to the effect of, "Hey! How far are you going to shove that thing? A little boy's brain is up there!" Emma, a girl after her mother's heart, examined my work up close and declared it good. I'm pretty sure I'll have to remove toilet paper and kleenexes from the noses of all her dolls tomorrow.
Alas, that was the end of the excitement for the evening. Round one is complete. We'll see how the old girl (me) holds out for the next few rounds with the kiddos.
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