Thursday, October 24, 2013

Pets / Pests

A little boy in Perrin's class at Mother's Day Out brought his hamster for show and tell a few weeks ago. Perrin is STILL talking about that hamster three weeks later. He's been begging me to get him one. I've told him no several times. Sorry, kid... I know exactly who would end up cleaning hamster poop every week and frantically searching the house for Fuzzy when you "accidentally" let him loose. For about half a second, I vaguely wondered if I should get him something really small and simple to care for, like a fish, to teach him about animals and responsibility. Then the saner version of my brain remembered that he is only three. He's more likely to take the fish on a wagon ride than to learn proper animal care.

So after fruitlessly trying to convince me that he needs a pet of his own, he finally decided to take matters into his own hands. He caught a moth, stuck it in a jar, and named it Uncle. (Don't ask me... I thought it was weird too). Then he decided the moth needed some food, so he plunked a piece of dog food in there with it (and was visibly disappointed when the moth didn't gobble it down. Ungrateful moth.) We kept Uncle for a couple of days, and he seemed miraculously healthy. But I was trying to think of a way to get Perrin on board with setting Uncle free in the backyard because I knew he wouldn't last much longer in the jar.

I went in Perrin's room yesterday and found the jar sitting on his train table, empty. "Perrin, where's Uncle?" I asked. "

Oh, I squished him," he said, very matter-of-fact.

Rest in peace, Uncle. I'm sorry you had to endure the trauma of being the first pet of a very unsympathetic three-year-old.
 

Sunday, October 6, 2013

Two kids and a wedding

Yesterday we had the joy of attending a very beautiful and meaningful wedding. We brought the kids along for this one and had been feeling pretty apprehensive all week about what it would be like to bring a three-year-old and an almost one-year-old to a wedding. I wasn't really too worried about Brielle--she's generally content as long as I don't dare to leave her (EVER. With ANYONE. Not even for a millisecond. Need to pee? Too bad.) But Perrin has a tendency to pick very inconvenient times to act a teensy bit... oh, how to describe it?... demon-possessed. Plus the wedding was at 1:00, which is prime nap time for both kids. So I couldn't help but feel that we were setting ourselves up for failure. But what do you do when practically everyone you know will be at the wedding, leaving no one for babysitting? You prepare the best you can and pray for God to have mercy.

So I packed my purse that morning. I had to remove unimportant junk like the check book and car keys to make room for essentials: an iPad, cheerios, three rubber ducks, Easter eggs, a teething ring, fruit snacks, sippy cups, a train, a truck, and a partridge in a pear tree. 

We got there in plenty of time to pick a spot that would allow us to make a quick getaway if needed. Perrin informed me he needed to go to the bathroom, so I went in search of the restrooms while Trey claimed our seats. Perrin wanted to go into the stall alone, so I waited outside the door for him. He was taking a really long time, so I peeked under the door and saw that he had unrolled two entire rolls of toilet paper onto the floor. The toilet paper was sitting in a giant heap. I groaned, demanded that he unlock the door, and began cleaning up the mess. See if I let him go to the bathroom alone ever again.

We FINALLY made it out of the bathroom just in time for the wedding to start. Perrin found his cousin Brandon and the two boys sat with my parents and started quietly playing games on the iPad, which pretty much kept them occupied for the entire wedding. (Thank you, technology. I don't know what I would do without you.) So that  just left us with Brielle to keep occupied and quiet.

She dug through my purse and played with the toys some. Then she lunged forward and began pulling the arm hair of the stranger sitting in front of me (who did not seem terribly amused. Sorry, sir.) The pastor officiating the wedding began telling the story of the couple and how it all started back in 1990 when they were born, only a day apart from each other but 2000 miles away. Brielle chose that moment to contribute a hearty "Yeah!" The few people around us chuckled. (Side note: We are attending weddings of people born in the 90s. I officially feel old).

We made it through the ceremony and into the reception without further incidences. I could tell Perrin was getting a little restless, so I got him some grapes and a small slice of wedding cake. He devoured the cake and pretty quickly realized that there was more yummy food nearby. The good thing about having lots of friends and family around is that everyone kind of helps watch the kids and keep them in line. The bad thing is that everyone assumes that someone else is watching the kids. At one point I was holding Bri and Trey and I were chatting with some friends when I suddenly realized Perrin wasn't sitting at the table anymore. I found him at the food table, snatching baklava and chocolate peanut clusters and shoving them in his cheeks like a guilty squirrel. After we cleaned him up and stopped by the bride and groom to say a quick congratulations, we decided it was time to get the kids home. We were probably about ten minutes too late in our estimate of how long they could last--Perrin came completely unglued on our way out to the car. The excitement, sugar, and lack of sleep had caught up to him at last. He and Brielle both took good naps that afternoon.

So what did I learn from all of this? 1. If you take kids to a wedding, come very prepared. Just dump the toy box into your purse and it'll all be good. 2. When a three-year-old wants to be independent and go to the bathroom all by himself, just say no. Remember that slogan from our elementary school drug education days? It's good for toddlers too. Just say no. 3. If the desserts on the food table seem to be disappearing rather quickly, there's a good chance that there's a sneaky little boy somewhere nearby who needs his mommy to pay closer attention. But cut her some slack--her baby girl has probably dipped her hand into her brother's leftover wedding cake and is smearing it into her hair at that exact moment. True story.