They Got it Right

I love this website: http://crappypictures.typepad.com

Parents everywhere must indulge themselves with these funny 'crappy' commentaries on parenting. And so so accurate. I mean, has someone been spying inside our house?

For instance....

This is Charley
I had forgotten what the "terrible twos" were like. I was reminded today.
My 21 month old wanted yogurt. Or "fogurt" as he says.
So I open the fridge to find three identical containers of yogurt.

He is peering in behind me and wants to pick.

Yes, they are identical but I'm aware of exercising independence and all that parenting toddlers stuff.
So I pause and let him pick. He grabs the one on the right.
I begin to shut the fridge door thinking we are done.

Apparently he has made a mistake. The yogurt on the right is no good.
So I put the offending yogurt back and he grabs the middle one.

And throws it on the floor. This one is even more offensive.
So I pick it up, put it back and he grabs the one on the left this time.

And he throws himself on the floor along with the yogurt. Clearly, the worst yogurt ever.
When he calms down he goes back to his original choice. The one on the right. A wise choice.
He is happy with his final choice and he is ready to eat it.

Except he can't open it.
So I do something stupid.

I offer to help.


This is Tessa

We went to the post office the other day and I gave my change to a homeless man who always sits outside with a sign. On this particular day, my son questioned why I gave him my change.
At some point during the car ride home, I must have said something like "giving to those less fortunate" because hours later, that same night, the following conversation happened...

He asks me what "fortunate" means and I know immediately he is still thinking about the homeless man we encountered earlier.
He isn't satisfied with a synonym like "lucky" which I attempt at first. No, he desires a deeper explanation.
So I try.

I basically tell him that we are fortunate because we have a home and the homeless man might have to live in a cardboard box.
At first, I think I did a pretty good job.

But he latches onto the cardboard box idea too eagerly. Too enthusiastically.

And by the look on his face I can tell he has the wrong idea.

So I try again. Further explaining how it would basically suck to be homeless. Being an adult female, I mention not having a bathroom. Obviously.
He asks me where the man goes to the bathroom to clarify.

I could tell I have failed once again.

So I get smarter.
I think about who my audience is.
And try again.

Having no freezer in your cardboard box has lots of consequences.

Bingo.
He gets it. Fully understands the impact.
So much so that he is downright concerned. He comes up with his own charitable idea.

And I say sure. That we can ask the man if he wants one.
So next time you see a little boy handing an ice cream treat to a homeless man at the post office...
Well, that little boy just might be mine.
And THIS is what fortunate means

And THIS is my relationship with the dogs, to a tee

I first encountered this closet phenomenon of parenting and pet annoyance when I was 23 and had just started dating my now husband.
We were invited to dinner by a couple we didn't know well. They were older (like, 30 or even 31 which sounds horribly old when you are 23) and they had a baby who was spending the night at Grandma's.
I was enchanted with their friendly orange cat. Our hosts, however, were not thrilled with him.

I politely looked at the baby photo. And then continued to ask questions about the cat. What his name was and how old he was and all the things I was supposed to be asking about the baby. I was 23. Babies were not on my radar and thus, very alien to me.
It became clear that our hosts were truly irritated by their cat. They admitted that they used to love him to pieces (as evidenced by the framed cat photos on the walls) but that their adoration had faded since having their daughter.
I was shocked. And appalled. The mom concluded with a dismissive "You'll understand when you have kids" and I decided that she was a cold-hearted animal hater.
I knew I'd never, ever be like that.
Fast forward a bunch of years. We now have two cats that we pamper. We take photos with them. We buy them fancy collars, toys and treats. We sing songs about them. We are a "two cat couple" and we are proud.
I even talk about them on the phone with my mother and she asks me how they are doing.

And then I get pregnant!
But being pregnant only makes me more maternal towards my cats. I smugly think of that cold-hearted animal hating mom. I am going to be nothing like her!
To prepare for the baby's arrival, I get one of those little bassinet things. The cat loves it. I love that he loves it. He is welcoming the baby! I even take photos of him sleeping in it. Several.

But after the baby is born I feel a little different. Just a little. And only about the bassinet.
At least at first.

Cats do not wear underwear. They should.
Somehow, this fact never bothered me until I had kids. Now it bothers me often.
This is how not to pick up, hug or otherwise touch a cat:

And yet this is how they always do it.
But it isn't the kitty's fault. Can't hold it against him.
Can't blame him for the cat puke on the floor either. Or how the toddler always finds it first.


Or how he is right under my feet all the time.

Or that they jump up on my lap the first moment I have to myself after a full day of kids hanging off me. When I just. want. to. be. alone.

But there is something that puts me in cold-hearted animal hater territory. Something they do that makes me fully relate to that mom I mentally berated for years.
And this is what it is...
The toddler falls asleep. Finally. I tiptoe out of the room, attempting to walk without actually touching the floor for fear of creaking floorboards.

My exit is successful!
Until the cats realize that someone in the house is asleep which sets off their meow alarm.

Sometimes they even go in the room the baby is asleep in.
Even worse is when both cats start tearing through the house, chasing each other and making sure the upholstery is adequately destroyed.
The upholstery destruction procedure is accompanied by the blaring meow alarm.

The good news is that they only do this when someone is about to fall asleep or just fell asleep. And sometimes all night long. And also very early in the morning.
Okay, I admit it. My cats are annoying as hell.
To the cold-hearted mom from years back: You were right. Wanna see some baby photos?