"experience is what you get when you didn't get what you wanted." -randy pausch

Sunday, March 30, 2014

it's just not max's year with bathrooms {is there really a hyphen in bandAid???}

while standing in a hot shower with conditioner in my hair 
and massaging proactive face wash onto my face,
i all of a sudden heard the sound of glass breaking on tile....
let it be the pink
let it be the pink
let it be THE pink!
because the pink is practically see through anyway,
and the sparkles in the pink polish might just blend in with the travertine if i'm lucky.
that's what i was thinking as i was franctically washing out the conditioner from my hair,
holding my breath, hoping it wasn't the red.
i have never washed conditioner out of my hair so fast in my life.
i told max to not move.
lots of times i think.
she said sorry,
and asked when we could go buy more.
i just kept wiping up OPI deer valley spice one cotton swab at a time.
with an entire bottle of acetone.
naked, with a towel wrapped up on top of my head.
true story.
during which time max informed me i had "baby boobs."
and went on to explain to me that there are big flowers and then there are little flowers,
and all of them are just different.
of course,
in all non life threatening moments of my life 
you can always count on me to take a picture of the crime scene.
even when i'm naked with a towel wrapped up on my head.
i have no shame.
this is what happens when you spend all of your day 
around tiny humans that don't really notice nudity at all.
more than 24 hours later my house still smells like acetone,
even though i had sean promptly take the bag out to the curb the minute he walked in the door from Saturday morning at the clinic.
it took me 3 hours to dry my hair from the time i got into the shower,
until the time i cleaned up all of the red polish.
which basically means i got it wet in the sink about 17 times during the process to re-wet the hair that kept drying along the way.
i felt like a hamster on a wheel.
lots of runnin' but gettin' nowhere fast.
i blame the nail polish.
it all started going bad with the nail polish.
the kids fought,
brennan pulled max's hair,
or was it the other way around?
chase wanted the marker max had.
chase ate the marker max had.
brennan growled at max.
chase looked at max.
chase stepped on a piece of glass i missed.
while i was trying to dry my hair for the 15th time with no luck.
which i didn't realize at first because the blower was so loud i couldn't hear him.
the thing just flowed like a little faucet on the bottom of his little chubby foot,
so i snapped a pic to send to all of the grandparents, close family friends, and 2nd cousins once removed,
just so everyone could be a part of my inability to dry my hair on saturday morning,
and so he wouldn't track blood spots all over the carpet in the house.
embrace the chaos.
that's what i just kept telling myself.
at which point i thought,
we're gonna need a bandaid folks.
and a band-aid might get my hair dry!
not the band-aid itself.
you know what i mean.
which most people would be excited for.
i mean, i'm always excited for band-aids.
because every mom knows there's nothing more exciting than having some real live blood 
on a real live kid to constitute the need for an actual bandaid!
a real live reason for a real live bandaid!
max and brennan were literally clapping, jumping, and cheering for him they were so excited.
so we thought we'd try to lure him with the mcqueen band-aids.
but deep down we knew.
no can do.
the man would not be pawed at.
he ripped that mater off less than 2 minutes later,
and it only lasted that long because we held his ankle the entire time so he couldn't take it off.
he hates band-aides.
what kid hates band-aids?
chase hates band-aids.
i finally get into the phase of my mothering life 
where i hand out band-aids like bribes for candy,
and i have a baby that not only isn't woo'd by them,
but refuses to wear them.
oh the irony.
someone called you barf face.
want a band-aid?
your milk curdled in the 3 day old sippy you found under the couch and you drank it.
want a band-aid?
you found out christmas only comes once a year, not once a week.
want a band-aid?
your sister got hurt, and you feel badly for her.
want a band-aid?
don't want to do your homework?
how about if you wear a band-aid on your arm while you're doing it?!
really, this is how i do it now.
say i with me:
they aid you in all of your times of mothering needs:)
pick your favorite disney princess,
cars character,
tinker bell themed,
sesame street,
muppets stick on band-aids!
we've got them all.
all for your choosing pleasure:)
to soothe anything that might upset you at any point of your day.
they are $5 per box.
totally worth the money and fighting childhood obesity one band-aid at a time.
or something.
except like i said,
chase is not woo'd.
maybe he'll learn to love pennies...
i've got a mason jar full of pennies.
i'm thinking we're going to need more than just acetone for this....
did i mention we just had the tile professionally cleaned and fixed?
yeah, well, we did.
it's just not max's year with bathrooms.

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