I’ve complained quite a bit about the bugs, but the incident last night… That was something else.
A praying mantis came out of nowhere and landed on my TV. Just in case you missed that: A PRAYING MANTIS. On my TV. Seriously. Those big nasty waterbugs most likely come up from under the house and ants creep in through cracks and little holes, but a praying mantis? Where the hell did that come from?
Normally when some freaky looking bug makes its presence known I try to keep my cool for Tristan’s sake. I turn my squeal into a nervous chuckle and lure him away while I try to come up with a plan of attack, but there was just something about that huge, creepy bug with its prominent front legs and big rotating head that damn near unhinged me. I screamed bloody murder and laughed like a maniac and danced around with a broom while Tristan looked on and astutely observed: “UH OH!”
After I gave the beast a half-assed beating with the broom in order to persuade it NOT to fly at my head I managed to slide a piece of cardboard under it and then tossed it outside. How the hell did that monster get into my house? I hate this house. When I first walked into it I was able to overlook the ugly brown carpet, lack of a shower, and crappy layout because of its fabulous location. I can walk to the grocery store and the doctors office! Yay! But SHIT! It’s a poorly constructed house that is coming apart at the seams. I was in the living room this morning and I actually felt Mina jump from the bathroom sink to the window. This house vibrates and creaks and moans. It sounds like it’s on its deathbed.
Unfortunately it’ll be a while before I can afford to move again. I’ll make it a goal of mine, something to look forward to once I get my finances in order.
Tristan is keeping me on my toes. The good days are amazing and the bad days… God give me strength. A couple of days ago my sister took me to Wal-Mart and he threw his first really horrible public temper tantrum. He threw himself on the ground and started screaming his head off because I tried to get him out from under some poor lady’s feet. I admit he took me by surprise and for a moment I stood there like an idiot, clutching his flailing arm, my mouth agape. Luckily my sisters husband Dave was there and he scooped Tristan up and calmed him down pretty quickly. Tristan LOVES Dave. It makes me want to have a man around, you know? I’m sure poor Tristan needs a break from all the estrogen sometimes!
Anyway, I’m tired and cranky and yet delighted because today has been a good day so far. This morning Tristan found my nightgown and walked around while holding it up to his chest as if he was wearing it.
I really hope tomorrow will be a good day too. My sister Carissa is getting married at 4pm tomorrow and the last thing we all need is Tristan throwing a tantrum in the middle of the ceremony. I’m already planning what goodies I’ll pack in my purse to distract him.
She was originally going to get married in November but then she found out she’s pregnant. Since she already has a dress she loves they decided to get married now while she can still fit into it! I didn’t mention her pregnancy before because I wanted to make sure she had a chance to let everyone know herself, but I’m really excited! I remember the day she found out. She suspected it but was reluctant to test so I made her go to the store (and drink a bottle of water) while I bought the pregnancy test myself.
I think the whole family is hoping it’s a girl. My poor father will have a heart attack if it isn’t! It will either be the first girl or the sixth boy between us!
Crap, I’ve gotta go clean the kitchen. I’m so distracted lately. Sleepy and forgetful. Remi…
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This morning there was a pee disaster. I smelled it before I even walked in the room to get my Booger out of bed and when I turned the corner I saw that he was curled up on top of his pillow with his arms wrapped tight around his “eddy” bear. I picked him up to assess the damage and uttered my favorite phrase “Why god, why?” when I saw that not only were his pajamas and sheets saturated in piss, but his pillow was wet as well. What the hell? Where did it all come from? I have no memory of him drinking two gallons of anything before he went to bed, so what gives?
Tristan doesn’t like to do anything before he’s had his breakfast so he wasn’t happy when I started peeling wet jammies off of him and wiping him down with a wet cloth. After breakfast, when he was feeling a little better about being awake, I gave him a bath and then I started on the laundry.
After everything was all cleaned up I realized that the smell of piss was still floating around in the air. I went nuts trying to figure out why until, to my horror, I realized the stink was coming from Tristan’s precious Eddy. I promptly confiscated poor Eddy and made a mad dash for the washer. I knew Tristan would be upset about losing Eddy for a while but I had no idea just how broken up he’d be. I gave him back-up bear, the same exact bear only it has panda coloring, but Tristan would not be consoled by this impostor. My eyes started to water as he followed me around crying for his lost friend.
“Eddy! Eeeeeeeeeh-deeeeeeeee! EDDY!”
I felt like such a jerk. The poor boy cried nonstop through the wash cycle, moaned and hiccuped his way through nap time, and finally ran, puffy eyed and sniffling, to be reunited with his Eddy the moment it came out of the dryer. It seems to me that he might be too attached to this stuffed bear.
What if we lost Eddy? How long would it take him to get over it?
How long will this attachment last? Until he loves the stuffing out of Eddy, transforming the once fluffy bear into a tattered brown rag? I don’t know. I guess I’ll find out.
Today, as on so many days, we walked to the grocery store. Tristan was especially well-behaved (considering his age) so when he picked up a little green truck at the checkout stand I went ahead and got it for him.
He’s always grabbing things near the register but I never buy any of that junk since I figure it’ll just get thrown in a corner along with a hundred other little toys. Today I couldn’t resist. He rolled it along the floor, up a display, and then proudly showed it to the lady behind us. He started to whine and cry when I took the truck so the cashier could scan it and for a moment I thought about putting it back, but I controlled this uptight adult impulse and got it anyway. It always amazes me when people seem to expect adult behavior from toddlers since you’re FAR more likely to get toddler behavior from adults, and I’d hate to be one of those.
As I carried him out the door I thought we’d give manners a try and told Tristan “Say thank you!” I urged him again and he looked from the truck to me and back again. I sighed and said “Can I at least get a kiss?” although I didn’t really expect much of a response since he’s stingy with his kisses.
Then, to my utter delight, he smiled and planted a big one on me, even making his charming “Mmm-mah!” sound.
Today was a very good day.
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