Tuesday, January 13, 2015

Month 38 - Recap

My darling boy,
Hold everything! Stop the presses! Alert the media! Charles Elijah Smith has knowingly consumed both ham AND broccoli. ON MULTIPLE OCCASIONS. I wouldn't have believed it if I hadn't seen it with my own two eyes. Dessert has often been a motivator to get you and Natalie to eat a good dinner. Perhaps that's not the smartest method, but, well, we've never claimed to be the smartest folks, so it's the method we use. Up until last week, 100% of the time I offered dessert as a way to get you to eat something that wasn't found on the base of the Food Guide Pyramid, you would say something like "I'm not in a choc-wit mood" or "I not feel like eating ice cweam tonight". I, of course knew that was complete malarky. Because who in their right mind isn't in either a 'choc-wit' mood or an 'ice cweam' mood? Nobody, I tell you. No. Body.

Do you know what it took for you to eat both ham AND broccoli that first night? Was it the promise of never offering you vegetables again? Was it the promise of a puppy? Was it the promise of beating your sister in a foot race? Was it the promise of actually turning into Batman himself? No, no, no, and no. What it took was this: someone you had just recently met simply said "Oh! You should try that! It looks good!" Seriously. That's it. And it worked. *insert epic eyeroll*

I was blow drying my hair recently and you popped your head into my room. I turned off the dryer, looked over at you, and you said "I just wanted to tell you that you're pwetty." Stick a fork in me. This momma is DONE. I could barely function the rest of the day under the weight of all that sweetness.

You threw up in Target a few days ago. You had been complaining that your stomach hurt but, in all honesty, I thought that was code for "Geez, MOM! I'm tired of looking at boring stuff. When can we get to the toy aisle?" I took you to the bathroom a few times, but you still kept complaining. And then, right under the 50% clearance rack of girl clothes, you let loose with what I can only assume was every morsel of food you had ever eaten in your 3+ years on this planet. But, as I'm trying to make a point to do, I found the good in the situation.
  1. At least it was Target and not another store that shall remain nameless (but happens to rhyme with Stallmart). The employees were very helpful and kind.
  2. At least it was Target and not a gas station. I didn't have extra clothes with me and gas stations don't usually sell boy clothes.
  3. At least it was Target and not the library. Natalie sobbed hysterically the whole time. I'm pretty sure she thought you were dying.
  4. At least I was with you and not Daddy. Daddy is a sympathetic puker. I am not.
I might send Target a thank you note for helping us. I know this isn't the first or last time it's happened, but I did feel bad they had to clean it up. Later that night, you looked at me and were all "Momma, I don't like fowing [throwing] up. Food isn't 'posed to come out of my mouff." Truer words were never spoken, my bear. Food in, good. Food out, baaaaaaaaad.

Hugs and smooches,
Mommy & Daddy

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Headlines for January 9, 2015:
  • Kidnapped Toddler Rescued After Picking Up Cell Phone
  • Canine Commuter Rides Bus Solo to Dog Park
  • Boko Haram Uses School Girls in Nigeria Suicide Bombings
  • Paul Ryan Will Not Run for President in 2016
  • A 12-Year-Old Wrote a Letter to Each NFL Team – And Only the Carolina Panthers Responded
Edited to add: I totally forgot about your recap this month. You'll notice this was written four days late. Here's hoping my neglect doesn't land you on a therapist's couch one day.

1 comment:

Nicki said...

Oh no! I often fear my kids puking in public. Your positive outlook on that is admiring. 😉 (Also, the headline about the kid who wrote the letters to the NFL teams? That's my oldest friend's son. I actually saw him writing some of the letters when I was in Oklahoma for Christmas. Such a cool story.)