Christmas Rush

So another Christmas has come and gone and what do we have to show for it? Well I have a living room that looks like a Toys R Us blew up in it and have seemingly lost possession of the one room in the house that was mine.

I knew it was a matter of time before the Mud Puddle took over my library/sewing room/sanctuary but it is still sad to see it go. Currently, there is a drum set, two dismantled race tracks and a host of other miscellaneous toys strewn about my room. And the couch from said room is still in the living room having not found its way back to its rightful home.

It always amazes me the path of clutter that Christmas leaves in its wake and even more amazing is how quickly and without notice all of the toys, clothes, books and general STUFF gets sucked into the vortex of existing items.

What really has me shocked (and frankly has me a bit miffed) is the fact that the Mud Puddle has chosen a ratty, nappy bought-two-years-ago-at-a-yard-sale stuffed animal as his ‘favorite’ toy of the moment.
Now first off the thing is huge. It is wider than he is and only slightly shorter. Secondly, it cost a quarter. At a yard sale. When he was TWO.

What about the hundreds of dollars worth of toys he just got for Christmas? He had so many presents we kept some wrapped for him to open later. But no! He wants his big stuffed Peekachoo thing. UGH. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. He did show an unhealthy bit of excitement when he opened a box (“OOO A BOX!”) before seeing what was in it.

And I can SAY that I will remember this next year and not spend as much time, money or worry about his presents but we all know THAT is a lie. He was genuinely happy with his toys from everyone and what Santa brought him. So I know I will have forgotten all about the yard sale stuffed animal by next year. Or maybe I should review the blog and get indignant all over again. Nah, that wouldn’t be keeping in the holiday spirit!

Merry Christmas

A couple of holiday additions to the Mud Puddle Lexicon:

Chip and Pale – Chip and Dale to you and me and confused with The Chipmunks (Alvin, Simon and Theodore) who sing Christmas songs (“That is CHIP AND PALE, I KNOW IT MOMMY!!")

Jeavis – A hybrid of Jesus and Beavis because they rhyme apparently.

'Tis the Season...

To drive your mother stark raving mad apparently. Who knew? I thought it was all about Good Will Toward Men, giving to friends and family, cuddling around the Christmas tree.
Apparently the Mud Puddle has a different idea of celebrating the holiday season. He decided that sticking his head down the play sink and getting it stuck was a better idea. Yes, you read that right. Head down the play sink at daycare and had to be extricated by his teachers.

The result? Many chuckles from co-workers (try telling your boss you have to go pick up your only child for a trip to the ER b/c he got his head stuck in a sink – nice), friends and family members. And two hours at the emergency room to be told he was fine. Luckily, the ER people have a sense of humor and were very nice. I tried to diffuse any worries about me overreacting by acknowledging I KNEW I was probably overreacting. But what if he had done damage to a muscle or something? I would have felt bad.

So Emergency Room visit, one lost day of work for me, and the biggest bruised neck you have ever seen of a four year old all a week to the day before Christmas! Happy Holidays to YOU!

Really? It is hilarious. But I honestly could have used this joke in like August. This is NOT the time of year I need additional stress/excitement in my life. But then if we have learning nothing else from the Adventures of the Mud Puddle it is that kids don’t follow a time table for their behavior. And when you want things to go right they usually go wrong (see My Brother Got Married and the Mud Puddle Peed for an example).

As for the WHY he stuck his head down the sink. Well, that is a story that has evolved over the ensuing days. First response upon being asked: “I don’t want to talk about it.” Right. I was a REPORTER for God’s sake!! “No comment” especially from someone that I gave LIFE to: not going to fly.
So I gave him a little reprieve and asked him again after the ER visit. His response this time? “I don’t know, Nicholas was with me.” Hmm.. Nicholas is HARDLY an instigator of bad behavior.
Third response later that night? (I am a dog with a bone on this thing people) “Reyah (or something – a friend at school) had stickers and I was hiding from her.” Mmkay…
Finally this morning I saw one of the other mother’s at school and she had witnessed the incident. Apparently he had just stuck his head in and twisted it to one side getting it stuck. Seemingly with no one else around him. Great. The kid is a rocket scientist.

AND THEN, I find out this isn’t the first time he stuck his head some place it shouldn’t be and twisted it. If this is going to be a pattern, shoot me now. Or send Crisco for Christmas and I will start slathering it behind his ears.

Actually....

The Mud Puddle has a new favorite word. Actually. And he uses it A LOT. “Actually mummy that makes you look fat.” “Actually I would rather have a muffin for dinner than nuggets.” You get the idea.

While his proper use of the word is funny in of itself there is another phenomenon that has accompanied it. He has become the most indecisive person I have ever MET. If he makes up his mind about one thing he quickly changes it and then back to the original again.
This goes on for a long time and usually ends in shouting or tears (on both sides).

A scenario if you will:
“Would you like juice or milk?” “Milk.” Pause for five seconds. “NO JUICE”. “Ok.” I ask warily. “Which is it? You have said both, you have to make a decision.” “Milk. Yes. Milk” “NO JUICE”. Oh for crap’s sake. I wonder what juice and milk mixed together taste like.

This literally happens five times a day. “Do you want to help feed the dogs?” “No!” I get up and head over to pick up their bowls. “NO MOMMY I DO WANT TO FEED THE DOGS!!” and the level of panic in his voice! You would think these things were life and death decisions. Whether he helps or not, the dogs are getting fed. And really I don’t care if I do it or he does it. The dogs don’t seem to have a preference either.

And I get it. I really do. I was the same way when I was his age. Every decision was painstakingly thought through, analyzed and reanalyzed and then the “buyer’s remorse” would set it. I always had a sinking feeling that I had made the wrong decision.

I grew out of it for the most part and am probably now one of the most decisive people around. I still worry when making a big decision (his schooling is eating me up inside) but I have learned to rationalize, weigh pros and cons and trust my gut. I hope that I can impart in him the same confidence in his decision making. But right now I am just trying to get through a day without him flipping out because he picked wrong. And not have to pour two drinks every time he is thirsty.

Ho Ho Ho!!!

In case you missed it, most of the times my blog entries are about patterns in the Mud Puddle’s behavior and include examples of said behavior. This time I am going to cover a specific event, which will offer no insight that I am aware of.

So Monday I picked the Mud Puddle up at daycare and he was boasting to one of his friends that he was going to see Santa that night. Now I had told him we MIGHT go see Santa on Saturday but somehow between 8 a.m. and 5 p.m. it had turned into ‘right now’ and was worthy of bragging to his little buddies.

That day had also been picture day at day care (they do it much later for daycares then regular schools – hence the picture taking closer to his birthday on our own) so he had been sporting a nice plaid button down shirt but had abandoned that in favor of a white, cheap t-shirt. Not exactly the attire I would have liked for a picture with Santa but I weighed my options:Mall on a Monday night might mean fewer shoppers, shorter line and less hassle. But it also meant I would be taking him solo and he would not be in the outfit I had planned. I called Scott to clear it with him and we were off to the Mall.

As I had suspected there was hardly a crowd (although parking was still a nightmare – go figure, good thing I have a special parking angel who gets me spots up-front – my Aunt Gladys the best at getting the good spots) and we went straight over to Santa’s village. There was a harried looking elf wolfing down fast food behind the desk but no Santa. I didn’t want to interrupt the elf’s dinner so I asked the other parents milling about where the jolly man was and was told he would be back in 15 minutes.

So I tried to talk the Mud Puddle into running our other errands before Santa got back. Nothing doing. He wanted to queue up in that line and WAIT. I believe I have explained the differential in time perception between a four year old and a 35 year old before (15 minutes to me – nothing but a blip, 15 minutes to him, a day and a half) and his patience wore thin QUICKLY. We stood in line, he kept touching the fake snow and asking how Santa would get back into his village and basically sat three seconds from Full Spaz Mode for the entire duration of the wait.

We were pretty close to the front of the line so we didn’t have long to mull about once Santa got back (without being seen, thus heightening the belief that he is Magic).

We get to the front and the Mud Puddle goes up to Santa and gives him a hug – Santa is not sure what do with this as most kids just clamor up on his lap and start asking for toys. Not the Mud Puddle, he just wanted to hug it out with St. Nick (he loves to hug: friends, dogs, stuffed animals, holiday figure heads). So there was an awkward moment where Santa is trying to pick him up and the Mud Puddle is trying to hug him.

They finally get synched up, and the Mud Puddle tells him he wants a castle. And…. And that is it. He is ready to get down. It is like he had a mental check list: Hug – check, Ask for Castle – check. Done. Now, I had told him he was going to have his picture taken and we had ‘practiced’ smiling. But now, the smile was not even forced, it was just a brief curl of the lip. Santa decides that tickling him will do the trick – um, not so much.

The Mud Puddle does not like to be tickled by anyone not on the Approved Tickle List – which Santa apparently did not make. So he starts to look uncomfortable. And then disgusted. Who was this bearded man to try and elicit a smile from him? As if.
And the result? Well the picture you see here. The woman asked if I was SURE I wanted that one and I said ABSOLUTELY. Happy Holidays indeed!

Liar, Liar Pants on Fire

The Mud Puddle is all about Christmas. Because really what four year old isn’t? But the fall out from his excitement has left me seriously befuddled.

When asked what he would like to get from Santa, he stated matter of factly: a castle, a drum set and a blue and orange fish. Now the first two I have covered, the last one… I had no idea what he was talking about. So to clarify I asked where Santa could find the blue and orange fish and did it DO anything. He replied that it was at Toys R US with the other fish and it talks. Mmmmkay…

So I head over to Toys R Us to look for this fish, which I had no recollection of having seen before either at a store or advertised anywhere and usually I have my finger on the pulse (or like to think that I do). I literally walked up and down every aisle of that stupid toy store and there was not ONE fish (blue and orange or otherwise) in the joint. *SIGH*

That evening we were going for a hair cut and to pick up a birthday present for one of his chums. We hit the local Target and I decided while I had him with me I would try the fish hunt again. We walked up and down every aisle in the toy department all the while me peppering him with questions, “how big is it?”, “was it in a box?” (my version of the Spanish Inquisition I guess).
When we came to the last aisle I decided my blood pressure had taken enough of a beating thanks to the allusive fish and so I said to him, “If Santa can’t find the fish, is there something else you would like instead of it?”

And then he dropped the bomb: “There is no blue and orange fish, I was lying Mommy.”
Excuse me, WHHHAATTTTTT????

Why in the name of Kris Kringle would you LIE about a potential Christmas present and then admit it???? I am the same mother who found the only Pterodactyl costume in North America, I am the same mother who had sketched out a sloth costume to make from scratch. If there is something he asks for, I deliver. I had a back up plan in place but I still hadn’t Googled for the fish, there were still options.
And why would your first lie be about a PRESENT???

I couldn’t even get mad at him, I was so confused about what had transpired in his mind, the initial lie itself – where did it come from and why did it continue for a week getting bigger as it went; as well as the decision to confess it – was he afraid he would be one present short if he continued with the lie?

I walked around Target in a daze after that. Half talking to myself and half talking to him. It was just such a bizarre moment, his first lie but a totally wasted one. Part of me, in hindsight, thinks he was just taking the piss. Wanting to see how far Santa and I would go to make the fish ‘happen’. I am not sure he is that devious but he is the master of pushing my buttons.

He asked me not to tell Daddy, but of course I did, I had to. Just to make sure I wasn’t completely crazy in my reaction. And to let him know that lies were afoot.

I already have a personalized letter from Santa coming which makes reference to the fish, and I am not sure if I will continue to look for one just to prove a point or just let it go. Tis the season after all!