5 and a half years ago, my life consisted of sleeping,burritos and dropping entire paychecks on the Victoria's Secret semi annual sale. I was pretty sure I knew what motherhood would be like. I was wrong. I had visions of sanity,a clean home, and cats that weren't locked in the closet after being soaked with a 4 year old boys urine. Yes, I thought motherhood was one beautiful lucid moment to the next

...and then came Sam.

Saturday, January 30, 2010

Oh for the love of god...

Today my new pet sitter came over. She is watching my zoo for 6 days, and I am extremely nervous. I think Sam picked up on my anxiety, and because of it wanted to "help". With Sam, "help" almost always means doing something that is going to finally push me over the edge into nervous breakdown canyon. I was downstairs finishing the dishes, because for some reason I was convinced that a pet sitter would look down on me for having dirty dishes. About 5 minutes into dishes, baby rope (Sam named this cat) came downstairs, with what looked like giant side parts in her fur. When I got a better look I realized that chunks of her hair were missing all over. I went upstairs and found Sam holding my other cat Sponge (he also named her) laying on the bed, peaceful as can be, while Sam chopped off her hair with play dough scissors. First of all, how in the fuck do play dough scissors cut cat hair? Anyway, I screamed at him, because I was already anxious about a stranger watching my pets and this was the last thing I needed. He explained to me, that the cats needed to look beautiful, because if they were too ugly, the lady would not feed them and they would die.

How do you argue with that? I mean, he makes sense. He is completely wrong, but he wasn't doing it to be mean. Wonderful, another time that I cannot punish my 4 year old, because he makes too good of an argument. Should be a blast when he's 14.

Monday, January 25, 2010

Oh goody....

Will someone please explain to me why boys are inherently obsessed with toilets? 90% of my daily cleaning that involves swearing, involves the toilet, and toilet related activities.
Honestly, the only way to avoid this stuff from happening is to follow him around constantly, like I had to when he was an toddler with mush legs. 5 free minutes to Sam, means head to the bathroom and do as much damage as possible.

Tonight Sam came down from bed to go to the bathroom. I figured he was half awake and would be too tired to screw around with the toilet. WRONG

I just went in there 5 minutes ago and found the above situation. Which is an entire roll of toilet paper rolled into the toilet with Venom (spider mans evil twin) thrown on top.

I went upstairs hoping he was still awake and he was. This is how the conversation went..

Me: Sam, why did you do that to the toilet?

Sam: What do you mean?

Me: I mean you rolled all the toilet paper into the toilet and threw venom in there. And now the toilet is clogged.

Sam: that's not venom mom, that is my poop. It just looks like Venom because I watch a lot of Spider man and now my poop looks like him.

Me: Sam, that is not true. You need to be honest with me because you made a big mess and I am very upset right now.

Sam: Okay, well the truth (pronounced Troof) is that Venom told me he was going to kill you, so I threw him in the toilet. I didn't' want you to die mom.

Me: Well thank you, but next time just punch him okay?

Sam: Okay, I'm glad your alive though.

Me: I am too Sam, goodnight.

Well I'm off to fish a evil twin out of the toilet and comprehend why my life has digressed to rescuing superhero shaped pieces of shit.

Saturday, January 23, 2010

Do not trust this person.

A favorite past time of my son, is to say or do something extremely sweet, and then for comedic relief immediately do something violent or disgusting. It's almost as if my adoration for him makes him uncomfortable. Would you like an example? Here, let me share my morning with you...

7 am: I wake up with a 45 pound 4 year old sitting on my chest staring at me.

Me: Good morning baby, how are you today?

Sam: My lips aren't chapped anymore, and do you want to know why that is good?

Me: Of course

Sam: Because I need my lips to be able to smile, smiling reminds me of how much I love you.

7:05 AM. I stare in amazement, unable to speak because of the beautiful thing my son just said.

7:06. Sam starts to reach around in to his butt. Normally I would immediately sense danger, but because he just said something so profound I let it slide.

7:07 Sam pulls his hand out, with this creepy satisfied look on his face, says absolutely nothing and proceeds to smear shit on my arm.

7:08 Sam laughs, runs away while screaming "Turd arm, turd arm" as loud as he can. Honestly, I didn't even fight back. This must be his plan. He stuns me with kindness, and then wipes shit on me...literally.

*For those of you who are new to Sam stories, half of the time they involve poop. Poop has been a big part of my life for the past 4 years. So, hope you have strong stomachs...

On a side note, do you know what it is like to cook breakfast for a person who just shit on you? If he thinks I am making bacon he is out of his GD mind.

Friday, January 15, 2010

Samuel, please stop kicking me...we will go, when I am done with the laundry

"I can't stop mom, It's not my problem, it's my body's problem..and my body wants to kick you right now."

Sam, why did you pee in the litter box again?

"I can't go pee in the toilet, it's only to put fish in when they die."

"Watch how I wipe my turd butt"

Sam was potty trained fairly easily. Basically, I waited until he seemed interested, put him on the can and he's been going in there ever since. The only issue is that he cannot, well I will not, let him wipe his own butt when he goes #2. The reason being:

Huge toilet bowl+Short arms+poopy butt =Poopy Hands.

Sometimes he poops without telling me (aka screaming: "I am going turd" at the top of his lungs). When he does this, it's a whole "to do". I have to inspect his naked butt for poop smear, check his hands for brown and pray to god he didn't put a turd hand print on the wall.

So last night, I hear him get out of bed, come downstairs, run back upstairs, jump around on the floor, run back downstairs and then flush the toilet. After this he comes tearing into my office screaming "Mommy, watch how I wipe my turd butt" After a good 30 second groan of shit cleaning anticipation I tell him to show me his butt so I can see the number he pulled on his cheeks. To my surprise it was clean as a whistle.

My thoughts immediately went to where in the house his turds were. Smeared on the mirror, on the bathroom floor, the sky is the limit with my boy....

He takes me into the bathroom, which is also clean and proceeds to explain to me his new method of butt-wiping, which is as follows and written exactly how he said it:

Step One. Go turd and squirt in the toilet

Step Two. Roll up a ball of toilet paper, an jump off the toilet

Step Three. Get toilet paper real wet with water from the toothbrush sink

Step Four. Put ball of toilet paper way in my butt

Step Five. (he proceeds to take my hand and waddle up the stairs) You go upstairs and squeeze your butt together really tight .

Step 6 (he takes me back downstairs) now you go back downstairs and that is when the most poop gets off you.

Step 7.You throw the poop ball in the toilet, and your butt is good as new!

a bit of overkill? Yes..but my son has figured out a way to wipe his butt without me having to get poop underneath my fingernails when he squirms, and that my friends is fine...just fine indeed