Mumma Boo x 2

Are you sitting down?   Good.   I am about to reveal to you a secret.   A huge secret.    A ginormous universal truth of such epic proportions that the instant you read it, lightning will flash and thunder will roll.   Ready?   Here goes…

Parenting Is Hard.

Are you ok?   Did you see the flash, hear the crash, and smell the ozone burning?   I’m truly sorry if I’ve shaken you to your core (without the benefit of dinner and drinks first, heh), but this secret had to be told.  I’m so glad I got it off my chest.

What?  You already knew that?   There are websites, blogs, entire magazines, even TV shows that have told you the same thing?     Where the hell have I been?   Oh, right.  Parenting.  My own two kids.

Except last week.   Last week I only had one kid to worry about.  Last week was an eye-opener.   I didn’t know exactly how much energy I was expending chasing two kids around until I only had one.   Now I’m not saying that parenting one is easy.  No way.  It’s just that it’s slightly easier than parenting two.    I didn’t need a referee’s whistle and jersey last week.  No peace treaties to negotiate after battles over toys or the coveted seat at the table.  

Cheeks was on vacation at Grammy’s house and all was quiet.  Ok, maybe not all, and maybe not quiet, but there certainly was a different vibe around here.   It was the longest separation I’ve had from her since birth (a story for another time), and it was strange.   I knew I would miss her, but I wasn’t prepared for how much and in what ways.  She really can be a helpful kid when she isn’t fighting with me over every damn thing, and I missed her ability to entertain Cenzo while I tried to get a meal ready.  And I missed talking to her about the silly things around here and planning our daily errands together.  And, yes, once or twice, I wished ever so briefly that she was asking me questions about something she’d seen or heard.  (A few questions, not the usual 4,956 with five part follow-ups to each.)   She can be exasperating (see any number of previous blog posts), but all week, I felt like a part of me was missing.   And I was really glad to get her back on Sunday afternoon.

I learned alot during the week we were apart.  Like how much of my day really does center around her - her activities, her friends, her moods.  Like how I tend to be more patient with Cenzo’s tantrums than with hers, because she’s older, dammit, and should be past that stage.  That I really expect alot from her at age six, when, perhaps, I should just back off and let her be six sometimes.  That I love her up to the moon and back (thank you, Sam McBratney) and can’t imagine my life without her. 

Of course, as much of a reality check as last week was for me, it was a dream, fantasy world for her.   A world where she had ice cream for dinner and cake for dessert.  Where every day there was a new adventure to be shared with just her and not her baby brother.   Where cartoons were as readily available as the junk food.  Where fruit and vegetables were an afterthought, not a primary snack choice.  Where Grammy’s treasure-filled attic was thoroughly looted and packed into bags for the trip home.  Poor Cheeks - she was snapped back to reality as soon as it became clear that the eight-room dollhouse wasn’t going to fit in the car and would have to stay at Grammy’s.    At least there was enough space for the other 10 bags of crap she brought home.

Now that I’ve had the benefit of a couple good nights’ sleep and validation from my dear readers that my paranoia was justified, I will consider myself lucky that caffeine was the only unwanted additional substance in my beverage.    Eeeeewwww!!!

Dear DD Drive-thru Staff:

If you wanted me to be thinking of you in the wee hours of the night (specifically midnight to about 4:00 AM), you succeeded.  I was thinking of you and sending many, many evil thoughts your way.  For you see, you morons, I said DECAF.   DECAF.  DECAF. DECAF.   My iced coffee is always DECAF.   As I lay awake, listening to  Munky blissfully snore like a chainsaw on crack (whatever that means), I thought back over my order.   Did I not say DECAF?    Did you not hear DECAF?    Did you think that the few extra munchkins you tossed in the bag for my son would absolve you from your mistake?   Or did you give me regular iced coffee on purpose?   From the stilted conversation we had at the window, I’m betting you did it on purpose.  Asshats.

So, thank you, asshats.  Now, instead of doing fun stuff during Cenzo’s nap, like stalking my blog friends or reading a book, I’ll be trying to cram in a nap myself.   Oh, and don’t think I’ll be coming back to your place for coffee to help keep me awake.  Because I’m not.  Because you’re asshats.  So there.

Sincerely,

Mumma Boo

It’s official.  Every member of this household now wears glasses.  ChippenCenzo got his first pair last week at the tender age of 21.5 months.  Cheeks Magoo got her first pair at the age of 5.   I knew it was inevitable that my children would end up needing glasses. I just didn’t think it would be this soon, nor did I think it would be for the visual problems that they’re experiencing.  I figured they would be near-sighted like me.  (I should seriously consider honing my echolocation skills in case some catastrophic event robs me of my desperately needed lenses.)   

Both kids are far-sighted like their father, although he only needs reading glasses.  Cheeks has problems with depth perception due to an astigmatism; ChippenCenzo has accommodative esotropia, which basically means his eyes cross while trying to focus on things up close.

When Cheeks was a baby, she crossed her eyes, too, but we were assured that some eye-crossing in infants was normal and that she’d grow out of it.  When she stopped crossing her eyes around 18 months of age, we didn’t pursue it further.  It wasn’t until her 5 year check-up that we learned her depth perception was way off and that she had trouble seeing things up close.  So off we went to the ophthalmologist for the official diagnosis and her first pair glasses.   If we could get her to keep them on and actually look through them instead of over them, she might have a fighting chance of getting her vision corrected.    

When ChippenCenzo started crossing his eyes around the same age as Cheeks did, we promptly took him to an ophthalmologist who told us that nothing was wrong.  Not wishing to make the same mistake with Cenzo as we apparently did with Cheeks (oh, the guilt!), we sought out a second opinion.  Turns out Cenzo is moderately far-sighted and it was a darn good thing we caught the estropia when we did.   Now, if we could get him to keep his glasses on, well, you know the rest.

Because they’ve started wearing corrective lenses so young, there’s a chance that their vision will be corrected fully and they’ll outgrow the need for glasses by puberty.  Me, I’m stuck with mine for the rest of my life.  No such thing as outgrowing near-sightedness by menopause - heh.

Two weeks ago, my good friend Guitar Girl played hooky from work and joined Cheeks, Cenzo and I for a trip to one of the private zoos in our area.   The zoo started out as a wildlife rescue park and has grown exponentially over the past 10 years.  It’s supported solely by donations and the exorbitant prices they charge for admission, food, rides, etc.   But I digress.      A good time was had by all, and that’s the important thing.    Herewith, for your reading and viewing pleasure, is a brief synopsis of our day at the zoo.

Cheeks got to ride on this:

and this:

The pony stunk worse than the elephant, according to its rider.

Cenzo got to ride in this:

When we let him out, he looked like this:

I'm free and you can't catch me!

 and, like a good little doorman, he proceeded to head straight for the port-a-potty to make sure the hinges were working properly.   He then decided that the lion needed to be released,

Into the lions' den

along with the African Watusi,

Lunch

and the deer.  

No, really, they don't need to come out...

I’m fairly certain he was hoping for a Wild Kingdom-type moment, where the lion stalks its prey and the herds run amok.   The animals were pretty laid-back on the day we visited.  

Go away, I'm digesting a misbehaved child...

Of course, that’s not to say that Cenzo wasn’t excited about all the “dogs” he got to see.

This was a dog:

Blue-faced Dog

Humped Dogs

Spotted Dog

Very Tall Dog

But his favorite dog was this:

Pot-bellied Dog

We never did see any hippos, but we did find out later why the animals were so sedate.  

Posted in the Ladies Room - I kid you not.

Apparently, there’s a rampant drug problem among the zoo population.