Vintage Supahmama

September 29th, 2009

Logan may or may not be referred to as "puppy" from this moment on. It seems that upon his changing from 1 year old to 2, he also transformed into that of the canine persuasion. Meaning, he barks... gets down on all fours and pants... runs around in circles doing anything puppies might do. He is the MASTER of fetch.

10 years ago, had you told me that I'd be the proud parent of a dog-child I would have called you crazy and walked away. Because, seriously? Kids don't do this shit, right? Wrong. They DO. Their little brains are hardwired for this kind of nonsense. You better believe the Husband and I are working this puppy thing to our advantage. For example, Lo would rather you peel his nails off one by one than get his hair washed. If we were filmed bathing this kid we'd be on the evening news, because honestly? THE TORTURE! THE ABUSE! WE DROWN OUR CHILD EVERY OTHER NIGHT!!! Or at least, that's what it sounds like should you happen to be standing outside our bathroom. However... imagine our surprise when out of desperation we threw our hands up in the air and said, "You know what, Logan? we need to wash behind puppy's ears." A miracle spewed forth from the heavens, we were able to POUR WATER OVER HIS HEAD in order to wash AND rinse. Tonight, we had a similar breakthrough.

On a typical night at dinner time, we bust out the music and jam out while we eat. I think it helps to lower the blood pressure when you have a baby and a toddler throwing the meal you slaved over onto the floor or flinging it across the table. Tonight's dinner was vegetarian chili chock full of carrots, tomatoes, cannelini beans, black beans, corn, onions... yum yum and YUM. Not so much for Lo. He pushed everything around on his little tray and attempted to escape from the table. We turned the music off and threatened to leave it off should he not return to his rightful spot. No reaction from Lo. We bitched and moaned over wasting food every night and how he is supposed to SIT at the TABLE with the FAMILY and we're TIRED of him being TWO. TWO TWO TWO! WHHHY? And then... lightbulb. "You know what, Lo? PUPPIES eat carrots." We didn't even have time to think before his little butt was back in his chair shoveling medallions of carroty goodness into his mouth. ((Don't get me started on the cleanliness of his hands... just don't... we're just happy he's eating carrots...)) The trickery worked with the beans as well, but not nearly as well as it worked for the carrots. All I know is I am stuck yelling for "PUPPY! PUPPIES DON'T RUN IN PARKING LOTS! PUPPIES HOLD THEIR MOMMY'S HANDS!!! DAMMIT PUPPY!" in public. Did I mention I call my son PUPPY in PUBLIC. I totally do. You know you're jealous.

I've reached the point that I may have to start changing my tactics when it comes to a few other things I'd been meaning to tackle when it comes to the boy. i.e., potty training... tantrums... sleeping in a big boy bed... btw, the big boy bed? I'm still waiting on THAT project. We get halfway through a pay period and I remember, CRAP... was totally going to build a toddler bed with my own two hands. SPLINTERS! POWER TOOLS! REJOICE! and then I forget again for another two weeks... ah well, eventually... I'll save that project for when I can think about taking the side rail down off his crib overnight without becoming twitchy and causing me to eyeball the mini bottle of Wild Turkey camouflaged in my spice rack.