The Struggle is Real

I don't think I've mentioned it here before, but we have some serious bath-time issues with ERP. It all started about a year ago; which is a long time when you consider he's not even two. Suddenly he hated baths. 

Really.

Hated.

Baths.

We're talking full on panic attacks, on his part; over taking a bath. 

Red faced.

Hyperventilating.

Scaling the walls.

Screaming.

Crying.

Total panic melt down.

It is not pretty. These days it takes both Husband and I to wash him. The bath takes about three minutes and that is three minutes too long.

We've tried many things - bathes in the sink, bathes in the baby tub, bathes in the big tub with me, bathes in the big tub with TT, showers with me, showers with Husband, showers with TT. 

Nothing.

Nada.

Zilch.

Until about a week ago he hated most forms of water - except a random puddle or his water table. Earlier in the summer TT accidentally pushed him into the wading pool, he froze; and would have drowned if I wasn't right there. Drowning is silent.

Then one day we got him into the "big" pool with me. He clung to me, like the "baby cling-on" that he is. But he was OK. We went in the pool more and more times. He warmed up to it.

It was progress but we still dreaded taking him to the beach. He hated it. HATED IT. Last summer.

But then we went to the beach last week. And he loved it.

He willingly went into the water. Over and over again. He let me toss him up in the air. He let RR toss him in the air. He played ball. He splashed. He even went under and didn't totally lose him mind. He was like a new kid. Husband and I were on cloud nine from this. This was progress. Huge progress.

This past weekend I moved the small climber and slide onto the deck, and set the slide into the wading pool. TT and ERP gladly went down the slide. ERP willingly and happily went into the little pool. 

We went in the big pool again. He loved it. Floated on his own in his ring.

I was feeling great about bath-time!

And then bath-time came.

And it sucked.

Majorly.

All his fears and panics over the bath came back. 

My original plan was to bath him and TT at the same time. As I have attempted many times in the past. But once we walked into the bathroom ERP lost his shit. Yup... lost it.

So TT showered. ERP continued to cry. Even though he was fully clothed. Normally when he's naked in the bathroom he tries to redress himself in his panic attacks.He got a towel and made me wrap him up in it. And unless he was sitting on my lap, he was crying. Thankfully TT can bath himself, he just needs gentle guidance and someone to dispense the shampoo and soap.

So... the struggle is real. The struggle to bath ERP continues. Rages on.

Seriously - how can someone that happy hate the water so much?

Sleep Glorious Sleep

I don't require much sleep, an average amount I suppose.  Around 7 hours.  But it needs to be an unbroken sleep.

Unbroken sleep had been a pipe dream recently.  Monkey has been teething.  Four at a time kind of teething.  Four in a months time, kind of teething.  The type of teething that makes he grouchy during the day; and brings on restless sleep at night.  You get the idea.  Obviously a solid nights sleep is something I hadn't seen in many moons.

Until last night.  And it was heavenly!!!

I woke on my own accord, shortly before my alarm went off.  I thought about getting up and charging into his room to see if he was still breathing.  (Don't all moms do this?)  But I decided against it, and snuggled up to Husband pondering my very strange.

In my dream I was married to Husband, and we were hanging out at the childhood home.  All of my brother's were still alive and my parents we not divorced.  And while we were there Ben Affleck was hanging around.  He had a crush on me.  And when I wasn't running away from Ben I was talking breastfeeding with Jennifer Garner.  I gotta tell ya, I am NOT a Ben Affleck fan.  He is so not my style.  I'm more a Vince Vaughn kinda gal.  It was a very strange dream.  But at least it was a dream.  During my 7 hours of unbroken sleep.

In case your wondering I ended up waking Monkey at 6:40 to nurse him.  I was ready to explode and had to get a move on it as well before I was late for work.  Too bad things like this, his sleeping in that is, don't happen on the weekend.

Bedtime

How do you know Turkey's in bed and ready to call it a night?

The house is filled with the sounds of Miles Davis.

(That boy loves his jazz.)

Upon further inspection he's also wearing his boxers and a tie while reading a book about magnets.

He is so my son.

The Irony

Turkey has always had a soft gag reflex.  He has vomited in more places and over more things than I care to recall; countless restaurants, cars, airplanes, even walking down the street.  So what happened tonight didn't surprise me, yet did.

Monkey as sitting on my lap and Turkey was playing with him, when suddenly Monkey spit-up.  It was a bit of a different than his typical spit-up and it sent Turkey over the edge.  He started racing around the house, gagging, forgetting where the bathroom was.  He vomited a little bit here and there before getting to the toilet (which was 10 steps away).  Suddenly he's blaming me because I made him finish his salad at dinner.  Somehow if he didn't finish the salad all of this could have been avoided.  So he cleans up his mess and comes back to play.  I tell him first I need to change his brother's diaper and he just pooped.

The irony, Turkey offers to change it.  Yes, the kid that just puked over seeing a little spit-up (and I mean a little) wants to change a poopy diaper.  And he changed it (his first cloth diaper change too I might add), without getting sick or even gagging.  Go figure.

Cows and Cars

I have an hour commute to work, each way.  This includes driving on farm roads, three different interstate highways and a long stretch down an industrial boulevard.  I should add I work in Connecticut, where the state motto is "You can't get there from here".  OK, maybe that's not the official motto, but it should be.

I try to use my drive time to work on balancing myself out.  To me this means listening to my local NPR station.  The news this morning was the same-old-same, however; our local morning program host, Bob Paquette, passed away over the weekend.  So it was a fairly somber morning cast, speckled with tributes and memories of Bob.  He truly was a great newsman, and will be missed by our area.  As I was started to reflect inwards about those in my life that passed away suddenly before their time, I came across the Cow Car.  The Cow Car totally shifted my mood for the day.

The Cow Car had a Rhode Island license plate.  Can you guess what it said?  If you guessed "Moo", give yourself 10 points.  The Cow Car was white brown cow spots painted on it.  Across the back of the trunk it said "Moo-ing Along".  It had chrome cow horns mounted on the hood, very Texas I might add.  Across the back window was a row of stuffed animals.  And then the cherry on top of the sundae - on the roof was a cow statue complete with a sunflower around the cow's neck.  There was a web-site stenciled in pink on the back window, but it was too small to read.

A quick search on Google, resolved this issue and I found The Cow Car.  Apparently, the cow wears other decorations around it's neck and it not all that attached to the sunflower.  (And somehow this has to do with pot- belly pig rescue.)   Thank you Mr. Cow Car for making me smile on this Tuesday morning.

In other somewhat related news, this weekend we were driving through an area with lots of dairy farms and we were explaining to Turkey that Monkey can have all the breast milk he wants, because unlike cows milk it's really good for you and has everything he needs in it.  Which in turn is why Turkey can only have ice cream once a day because it's not so good for you.  Anyhow, Turkey says "Let me get this straight, mom is like a cow."  Yup, I love you too kid.

Bat!!!!

Turkey reminded me of this story while I was tucking him in tonight, and it's such a funny story I just had to share.

This story happened 4 years ago this August.  I was a single mom at the time, living on the 1st floor of a 2-family house with my mom and her 2nd husband, M, living above us.  Turkey was 3.5 years old and I had just started dating Husband.

Back then I didn't have any AC units, and with it being August and New England the weather was hot and muggy; so we had the windows open.  Turkey was sleeping in his room which was in the back of the house, windows open (screens in) and ceiling fan on.  I was on the phone with Husband (mind you not quiet boyfriend status then) out on my front porch.  We were just chatting, basic get to know you chit-chat that typically follows a second date.

Out of no where I hear Turkey screaming, a blood curling scream.  So I run to him as fast as any mom could; phone still in hand and on.  I open the door to his room and a bat flies out at me, buzzing my head, and then flies back into Turkey's room.  I grab Turkey and we dart out of his room, slamming the door behind us and locking the bat in.

Husband who could hear everything on the other end of the line is yelling into the phone to find out what is going on as I am screaming too.  He was ready to jump into his truck and drive out to see what was going on.  I explain to him about the bat and he offers to come and take care of it.

Meanwhile, M has burst into the apartment to see what is going on; with my mom quickly behind him.  M offers to take care of the bat; and I let Husband know everything will be taken care of.

In true Dan Aykryod and John Candy fashion via The Great Outdoors M is fighting the bat.  It was a sight to see; in my adult eyes a comical sight. Turkey however didn't quiet see it that way.

We're not really sure how the bat got into his room; perhaps one of the small holes in his screen, perhaps during the day when all the doors in the house where open.  Regardless Turkey does not like bats, nor does he like his windows being open.  If he catches them open, he insists that they be closed; no matter how hot it is.  And, to no one's surprise he does not like bats.