Friday, May 20, 2011

Smooth Talker

Know how toddlers say the funniest things because they have no filter yet?  Yeah, that’s only enjoyable up to a certain point. 
Carter needs some help learning how to flatter women.  He needs to know that girls like to be complimented, told they look beautiful, etc. etc.  Eventually someone should tell Carter that saying things like, “Oh Mama!  You’re a hot mess!”  is not gonna be socially acceptable for that much longer. 
Seriously, hanging around this kid is not all that good for my ego. 
One morning the boys and I were sitting around playing with cars.  Carter was handing them out to us, dictating which cars we were allowed to play with.  Clearly. 
First he said “Grant can be the Mini cause he’s little”.  Well that makes sense. 
Then he told me that he would be the Porsche.  He did not offer up an explanation, but based on his rationale for Grant I’m thinking he had a reason for this choice.  In which case, I’m also thinking that I’ll never have to worry about my child having a self-esteem problem.
So following along I said "Can I be the Hot Rod cause I'm hot?"
To which he replied: "No, Mama. You're the Dump Truck."
Wow.  Ok then.  The Dump Truck, huh? Diiiiiidn’t see that coming.  You sure know how to make a girl feel special, Cart. 
I guess that’s how he views me.  But hey, dump trucks are awesome in his world.  So maybe THAT’S why he picked it for me.  And that’s what I tell myself so I can sleep at night.
My new role as Dump Truck could be responsible for this next story. 
Grant hit the page button on the phone and it was going "Beep, beep, beep..".  So Carter looked at me and said "Mama, are you backing up?"
No, really, Carter.  Keep ‘em coming.  I so enjoy these interactions where you compare me to some type of heavy machinery. 
Just yesterday I was sitting on the floor, which apparently was not where Carter wanted me.  My bad.  He alerted me to the fact that I needed to move by saying:
“Mama, can you get up?  Here, I’ll help you”.  He grabbed onto my arm, yanked upwards and then said, “Uh Oh!  I can’t even pick you up at all!”
Did he honestly need to add “at all” to the end of that sentence?
I suppose I have to exercise more.  Carter must suppose this as well because we were sitting eating lunch and he came out with "Mama, you have to do booty exercises."
He then proceeded to get on the floor and demonstrate..."You have to do this, Mama. Like this..."
I hate him.

Wednesday, May 18, 2011

Step Aside Dr. Spock!

When people think of mothers they think of compassionate, caring women who bake cookies and make you feel all better when you’re sick.  But I didn’t have that mother…so I didn’t become that mother.
I had the mother whose idea of compassion was telling me: “Beauty is painful” as she burned my ears with hot rollers.  And whose idea of caring for our injuries was giving us ice and Advil.  No, seriously.  Your whole leg could have just fallen off your body and she’d try to fix it with ice and Advil.
So I guess I’ve inherited her unique parenting style. 
A large part of my parenting philosophy centers on the age old pearl of wisdom “I told you so”. 
You snuck in the cabinet and ate six cookies and now you don’t feel well?  I told you so.  You ran through that puddle and now you’re bitching cause your pants are all wet?  I told you so. 
It’s especially hard not to gloat when he falls after doing something that I’ve told him five times in a row to stop doing. 
Liiiiike…jumping on the couch for example. 
Jump…”Stop it”…jump…”Stop it”…jump…BANG!  In this particular scenario my first instinct was to yell out: “Good!  I hope it hurt!”  I don’t imagine this is a normal motherly reaction. 
The other thing I like to let Carter do is say inappropriate things because they’re funny. 
It was the week of the big Pats/Jets playoff game and when I came home from work one night my husband said "Um, so, your sister taught Carter how to say 'The Jets are poop' when she was babysitting today.  He’s been saying it on and off for the better part of an hour."
I looked at him in surprise and said "OH MY GOD....That's awesome!!"
My husband occasionally works from home.  One day he had called into a meeting.  He had his very serious business voice on and was using important industry terms and such. The whole time Carter was in the background chanting "Pooping on the potty...yeah, yeah ,yeah!" And I didn't stop him.  Cause it was funny.  I’m actually laughing about it right now…
He’ll say these things at preschool one day.  Then it will be significantly less funny.
I really, really hope he doesn’t ever repeat anything that I say to his friends, teachers, social workers…
I mean, we’ll probably be ok.  We all know how I always watch my mouth around my children, how I never yell and always treat others with respect and…No, really, I can’t even finish that sentence.  It’s too ridiculous.
I don’t know WHERE he picked up the phrase “Oh fuck!” but don’t be surprised if you drop something and he yells that out.  Cause, yeah, it’s happened.  Nice, Danielle.  Real nice. 
But sometimes the things he says that he’s gotten from me are funny in a sort of appropriate way (No, really!)
Whenever we see rude behavior I try to use it to teach him a lesson. “Now see Carter, that lady bumped right into us and didn’t even say excuse me!  Oh, what’s that, Mam?  You can hear me?  Weird.”
We were leaving the doctor’s office one day and the man in front of us didn’t hold open the door.  So Carter screamed right behind him “HEY!  He didn’t hold the door for us!  That was mean!” 
See, he speaks the truth!
But then there are always the other things he’s heard me say…like when he pointed to my margarita and said "Can I have that too?" And I told him, "Sorry hunny! This isn't for's because of you."
Unfortunately, I also speak the truth.