Month: April 2014

The Great Unknown

You can’t watch your kids 24-7.

It’s impossible. You, and them, need to sleep.

As B becomes more resourceful and J becomes more mobile, I’ve learned the hard way that there is one real shady part of the day.

It’s that time between when the kids wake up…. and when I wake up.

See, they could both wake up and entertain each other on their own, before K and I emerge from our slumber. Or, they could wander into our bedroom first and ask when we’re getting up, resulting in me mumbling some random answer to buy me a few more minutes of sleep, before they take off again. Whatever the reason, this period where they are left unattended usually results in the most ridiculous, illogical things. It’s like an abyss of WTF moments.  Like, I don’t understand what they’re thinking as they’re making a mess in the playroom with shampoo, or covering their faces with chapstick, or emptying bins of cars in our in bedroom so that our floor looks like a Hot Wheels factory.

Maybe they  were playing Home Alone, and were setting a booby trap for the Wet Bandits.

Maybe they were playing Home Alone, and were setting a booby trap for the Wet Bandits.


Take the other morning, for example. B and J were up early (like, before roosters early).  I awoke with B between my legs, rowing them and rocking back and forth as if I was a stupid kayak or something, while J laughed. I told him stop and go watch TV in the playroom, so off they went. Cool. All was quiet for a bit, but then they wanted breakfast . Fine, whatever. I grabbed some food for them, told them to eat in the playroom,  took a quick look around to make sure they hadn’t gotten into anything, and then went back to bed.

After what I said about this great unknown timeframe, you’d think I’d have learned my lesson by now, right?

Of course, not, yo.

I dozed off, and not long after (maybe  20-25 minutes), I vaguely think that there was yelling from K about someone eating candy. Anyway, I got out of bed and saw disposable baby wipes everywhere. On our floor, in the playroom, in the hallway.  The kids had gotten into a bag of them. I groggily went into B’s room and saw B by the bag, holding a wipe. He proudly told me to look at how clean his room was, because he polished the walls.  Man, getting him to pick up his toys is a struggle. Of course he chose this time, with the wrong object, to become Mr Clean.

After politely telling B to stop, I went to work in gathering up the wipes. Started in B’s room and worked my way out. I noticed that some of them were red. Not blood red but a goopy red. My immediate half awake thought was that episode of Breaking Bad where Walt and Jesse tried to dispose of a body by putting it in some hydroflouric acid.  This was followed by my next completely logical thought of  ‘Oh, shoot, where’s J?!’

OMG, Mr. White, what did you do??

OMG, Mr. White, what did you do??


Have no fear, she was just halfway down the stairs, no diaper on, holding a goopy wipe, polishing the hall walls. She saw me, came up the stairs, walked into our room, wrapped the wipe around a dresser handle, smiled at me and went into B’s room. Normal chain of events.

Wait, pause, no it wasn’t!

I followed J and found B had gotten into the bag AGAIN. He had wipes all over his bed. Polishing his sheets, I’m sure.

Anyway, I took the bag with me this time, and went downstairs to find the source of the goop. All of the lights were off except for the one in the pantry so I went over to it. I walked past some candy wrappers, opened the door…..and stepped in a big puddle of pee. We don’t have pets, by the way. Even old Sherlock Homeboy here cracked this case. J took her diaper off, went to help herself to some treats and took a leak on the floor. Once again, perfectly reasonable behavior. After cleaning up that mess, I was more than a little peed off (and on….my foot) so it was back upstairs to talk to J. I stormed into B’s room, and found them like this:




B said that he didn’t like his bed, so he made up a new one out of a chair. J has a toothbrush because…..I don’t know. Hey, dental hygiene is important after sneakily gobbling up candy. My anger turned to confusion, so I just had to laugh at them.

The goop was (and still is) a mystery, however.

Welcome to the great unknown.



Little D-Bags

I was out for drinks recently with some buddies. We were shooting the breeze, when the conversation turned to my kids and how they were doing. I told them some stories. As I was telling them, a realization occurred to me, and I blurted out “B can be such a douchebag!” My buddies gave me the ‘I can’t believe that you just said that’ laugh but I was dead serious.

See, your kids are the apple of your eye, but when they’re small, they do a lot of irrational stuff. It really tests your patience but it’s OK, because they’re learning and developing.  Sometimes, however, they do stuff that they shouldn’t, and they clearly know better. Prick moves, for real.

There’s a fine line between kids just being kids and flat out douchebaggery. B is a habitual line stepper (word to Charlie Murphy!). OK, OK,  I can’t front. More often than not, he’s the type of four year old boy who’s polite, funny, charming, smart, considerate etc. Occasionally, however he is also the type of four year old boy who:

– Will start to tell you a story about his day, stop, rip the soother out of J’s mouth, toss it across the room, and then continue the story as if nothing is wrong, while J cries.

– Will come running into our room in the morning, asking for breakfast. When told that he needs to get dressed first, he’ll drop to ground like he’s been shot, tell me that his legs are tired so he can’t walk, and beg that I carry him.

–  Climbs onto a chair that J is sitting in, force her out of it, and insists that he was sitting there first.

– Refuses to get out of said chair until I say ‘please’.

– Takes J’s toy purse, claims that it is his, and refuses to give it back until she says ‘please’.

– Gets told to not go out in the muddy area, smirks, then goes in the muddy area.

– Likes to talk about being older or bigger than everyone he meets. One day we told him to knock it off, and that he needs to stop worrying about being bigger and better all the time. His reply? “I’m not bigger and better….I’m taller and gooder!”

– Climbs a shelf, gets candy, opens it, gives it to J, runs upstairs, tells me that J has candy and asks if I’m mad at her now.

– Told us that J is sassy and that he doesn’t like sassy people. When told by K that he needed to love his sister regardless and that blood is thicker than water, he burst out laughing hysterically, like that was the most ridiculous concept that he’s ever heard.

– Will be given a big cookie and told to share it with J. He’ll eat all of cookie except for a tiny crumb. He’ll give the tiny crumb proudly to J.

– At a drive-thru, when I pull up to place my order, he will also roll his window down, interrupt me, and try to place his own order.

You get the idea.  Can you imagine if a grown man did that stuff? You’d want to slap him upside his frosted-tipped, spiky haired head! And these are just examples from the last couple of weeks.  Whatever.  I’m not complaining, though, don’t get it twisted. I’m just giving you the realness.  Tantrums and crying I expected from toddlers; acting like a douche I didn’t expect. Regardless, douchebag tendencies and all, I wouldn’t change my kiddos for anything. Plus they grow out of it.