7.13.2011

Wilco Copper Norge

I just scammed a bunch of words off of the bulletin board in my cubicle to come up with today's post title. It's utterly meaningless, but sounds cool, no? If it didn't have the already super-recognizable "Wilco" part in there, I'd pretend it was a really awesome new band that only I had ever heard of. I'm so in-tune with the indie scene. Man. Anyway...

I was just reading someone else's blog (you don't know her; I don't even know her), and in it she explains that she recently had to cry into her mom's lap for a bit about how stressful children are, how much they suck when you can't take them outside of the house, how they're never going to stop being all needy and loud, recognized her own continued needy/loud-ness in regard to her mother, cried more, etc. Yes to all. Yes times a million. And this woman is a stay-at-home of three girls under the age of eight. I get to go to work three whole days of the week (hah - I GET TO WORK)! And for two of those home days, I'm not even primary care! And yet!

And yet, I am still embarrassed of the shallow lack of patience I currently sport. Iris is so wound up, all the time. The child just needs an energy outlet, and that is impossible when the heat index is 112 degrees. Poor, poor, awesome Kyle deserves an award for how well he cares for her and also refrains from tossing her out the window daily. She's just hysterical, and not in the funny awesome way, more in the losing-her-damn-mind kind of way.

She has been talking lately. Like, really talking. Talking like a big kid who has some level of reasoning skills and likes to ask questions. Her favorite question at the moment is "because why?"

(sounds of cat sadness coming from Iris' direction....)
Me: Iris, stop patting Kashmir's back please, you're hurting her.
Iris: Because why?
Me: Patting her back too hard will hurt her.
Iris: Because why?
Me: It will hurt her because hitting hurts.
Iris: Mommy, I not hit Shashir's back, I PAT her back. She not crying.
Me: Kashmir doesn't know the difference between patting and hitting, Honey, she just knows she doesn't like it.
Iris: Because why?
Me: Because it hurts her.
Iris: I NOT HURT SHASHIR!
Me: Well, you're going to have to take that up with her because she thinks you are.
Iris: Shashir, I not mad at you, I pat your back! No crying!


That could seriously go on for hours. She is somewhat willing to be redirected, but it takes a high level of bribery and waaaaay more patience than I have right now. Massive high-pitched melt downs are very common around the Kelley abode. The cat convo was just a tiny example, but my brilliant solution to that problem is to ban cat interaction forever. This will soon be a problem if it becomes my solution to every problem, as I can't very well ban her from touching everything in the house, especially when the inside of the house is the only place she can go.

Iris also recently decided that the things we ask her to do are pretty much just suggestions that can (and should) be ignored. Not awesome. Yesterday the only way I was able to get her to listen to me and stop running/screeching/giggling maniacally was to stand in front of her and let her ricochet off of my legs. I certainly couldn't have caught her if I was actually running after her. Then of course there was the resulting fallout/tantrum of epic proportions. I ended up doing that awesome thing where I drag the pissed off child around by the upper arm while she does her best protester limp. That was all within the first few minutes of my arrival home from work.

Did you know that July 4th marks the beginning of child abuse season? Did you know that there was a SEASON? I think it's only something referenced by ER staff, but still, this is a THING. I learned that little tidbit in my random other people's blog perusal as well. Apparently it has something to do with school being out, children being insane dictators, and the heat index being such that taking them outside to run off steam is something akin to child abuse. I'm just saying, you know I'd never participate in such a season, but I SEE WHERE THEY'RE COMING FROM, YAKNOW?

In lieu of my own mother's lap upon which to cry, we are shipping Iris off to KC for two weekends in a row. I have next to zero guilt about this. Okay, maybe like 5% guilt. Possibly more, but I'm repressing it. Kyle is going out of town to visit friends in Texas that he's been trying to find time to visit for like six years or something. The decision to send Iris to KC this weekend was a last-minute deal, offered up by Grammy because she knows I'm nuts? I don't know, I'm not questioning it, because you know what? DO YOU PEOPLE KNOW WHAT? (I just don't even know how to make shouty-caps shoutier than this...)

I AM FINALLY GOING TO BE HOME ALONE FOR TWO WHOLE NIGHTS. THIS IS ALL I HAVE EVER WANTED.

The only thing that would make this more bursting with awesomeosity is if I could bring my friend Franzia along for the ride. Alas, FBK would not enjoy the resulting brain damage, so I guess this will just have to happen again next summer! Booya. Silver linings are shiny and pretty/I heart shiny things!

7.05.2011

Tomorrow, next week, same deal

So perhaps I was hasty in my assessment that I'd post pictures "tomorrow." I'm not terribly worried though, since I'm pretty sure only Kelly and I read this thing, and I showed her the pictures in person last weekend. I kid! I know for a fact that at least two other people look at this blog sometimes when an automatic e-mail shows up to tell them that I posted something. So, all three of my dear readers, enjoy yet another picture of FBK's feet, and three profile shots wherein he attempts to suck on the umbilical cord and lick his knee.


{Toes Again!}




{Knee-to-face action}



{Umbilical cord as binky}


{More umbilical fun times}