Gud, I'm very glad to hear that.
Cash, good luck. I hope everything goes well.
Astarte! Nice to see you around again.
Oh, last night's conversations about XBoxes and Princess Tickybox reminded me of a story. So, the day last week when there was the frag fest, Plei and I went makeup shopping, liberated Tickybox from daycare, and took her home to feed her before deciding what we were doing for the rest of the evening. Paul was already logged onto Live and shooting at people, and Plei had some stuff to take care of, so I cheerfully volunteered to keep an eye on Lily as she ate her dinner. While she ate (and dabbled her hands in her soup), she would occasionally look toward the living room and inquire "Daddy?"
"Daddy's on a mission, Squeak", I told her.
"Mission!"
"Yes. Shooting Uncle Pete."
"Pete!"
It was oddly cute. Of course, a few minutes later, she decided she was All Done with her food, flipped her tray onto the floor, exclaimed "Mess!" and then giggled delightedly. So apparently my babywrangling skills need a little work ...
So apparently my babywrangling skills need a little work ...
This would be a good time to dig into the fetish catalog and wear something all latex if there's going to be a lot of soup flinging.
Sadly, there are no baby-wrangling skills anywhere that compete with a toddler entranced with messes. They make 'em, we just get to clean 'em up.
This would be a good time to dig into the fetish catalog and wear something all latex if there's going to be a lot of soup flinging.
Yep, time to dig out the PVC governess uniform. Thankfully, I had managed to remove the cup with the last of the soup about a minute before she decided to flip her tray on the floor. She looked so happy when she did that, too.
Sadly, there are no baby-wrangling skills anywhere that compete with a toddler entranced with messes. They make 'em, we just get to clean 'em up.
A-Fucking-Men.
Em emptied the lower shelf of the bookcase yesterday while I was in another room. She came and got me, took me over to the pile, and said, UH-OH! Mess! Mess, Mommy!"
I told her to put the books back. She did three.
I wonder if she piled them there because that's her time-out spot.....?
(PS. I can't believe I'm a time-out parent. I always swore I wouldn't be. Buy hey - they work.)
I always swore I wouldn't be.
Why? Did you plan on using a cat o' nine tails?
Did you plan on using a cat o' nine tails?
She thought that by the time she had kids they would have invented baby-wrangling robots.
Why? Did you plan on using a cat o' nine tails?
No. I planned on having a perfect, mischief-free child.
bats eyelashes
They're always so proud of their messes, too. "I did dat!" Um, yay.
Sara imitates me perfectly. Sometimes she walks into the living room, surveys the battlefield of Mr. Potato Head and Little People parts, and shakes her head sadly: "What a mess."
