Chaos on the Throne

I truly do live in the Land of Chaos.  Need a good laugh at my expense?

Riley must have been the easiest kid on the planet to potty train.  I didn’t have to actually “train” him – I just put underwear on him and he used the potty.  Perhaps it was my consolation prize for potty training the first three.  Or maybe it’s because thinks he’s capable of doing everything and anything his siblings can do.  Either way, he traded his diapers for visits to every public restroom in New England.  Sometimes I feel like a contestant on Amazing Race – Restroom Edition.  So I was a little surprised when he had an accident the other day.  Not just an “oh well, I wet my underpants” kind of accident.  But one of those dreaded accidents where you must decide if you like the clothes enough to clean them or if you are better off tossing them in the trash and pretending it never happened.

Mr. Independent didn’t think he needed any help with his situation.  But he’s two years old.  The only thing he knows to do with toilet paper is to unroll it all over the house or attempt to flush an entire roll intact.  Contrary to his beliefs, he really does need assistance in the bathroom.  But Mr. Independent was totally unfazed by what he had going on.  He just pulled off those dirty pants and hopped onto the potty to finish his deed.

Being two years old does not make you an excellent dirty pants-remover.  That is a job for us more experienced pants-removers.  But it’s really no big deal if you don’t mind having poopy all over your leg, and apparently he does not mind.  He never even noticed.  But WAIT!!  Activate emergency sirens!!   We have a huge problem!  “There’s POO POO on the floor!!  Wook-it!!”  (Wook-it translates to “look at it”.)  “Mommy wook-it!  There’s poop on the floor!”  He was so upset you would have thought the house had burned to the ground.  Lesson for the day:  poop all over your leg is fine; poop on the floor is life shattering.  I had assumed that both scenarios are bad, but what do I know?  The clean-up crew (me) responded quickly to the hazmat spill on the floor and began cleaning off his legs so he could relax on the potty.

Now somehow Mr. Independent managed to take off his dirty clothes and hoist his little butt onto the toilet while carrying his treasures with him.  Yes, like any respectable king, he must take his treasures with him to the throne.  His treasures must be protected from thieves (Noah) at all times.  A treasure is any item Riley deems valuable at the moment.  It could be a matchbox car or other toy, a glove, the remote control, his blanket, a sippy cup, a cookie cutter, or even an empty Ziploc bag.  Gloves and blankets are the most valuable treasures in the Kingdom of Riley – he prefers soft and fuzzy ones.  Thankfully, this trip to the bathroom did not involve a soft, snuggly glove or his most special blanket he sleeps with.  This time Riley took a toy canteen and his sippy cup of chocolate milk.  Eww.  I’m still not sure how he managed to get onto the potty holding both of those treasures, and I’m pretty sure I don’t really want the answer to that question.

While Riley finished his potty business, I worked to clean the poopy from his legs.  I wasn’t thrilled, but I was almost done.  I still hadn’t managed to get the dirty clothes off the floor, but a responsible mom would clean off the kid first, right?  Just as I finished cleaning off his legs, I heard the dreaded SPLASH!  The sippy cup full of chocolate milk was swimming in the toilet pool with all the other deposits he had made.  Ahhh!  Since I couldn’t just flush the cup away, my only choice was to rescue it.  And the rescue mission needed to happen immediately before he could make another deposit that would land on top of it.  If I had taken a moment to think about my rescue plan, I would have likely changed course and packed up and moved out of the house to avoid dealing with it.  But being a mom, I persevered and reached my hand in to grab out the floating cup and toss it in the sink.  With my mission completed, I could wash my hands.  Whew!  Almost done…

Uh, not quite.  He’s two.  He doesn’t play fair.  Now that his sippy cup had gone swimming in the pond, he decided that his bathroom time was over.  It was time for the wiping crew to finish the job so he can move on.   I was thrilled because I was one step closer to closing the bathroom door and forgetting this little episode had ever happened.  Wipe, check.  Help him down from the potty, check.  (There’s a mysterious phenomena that little kids can get onto the potty alone, or down from the potty alone, but never both in the same visit.)  As soon as his little feet hit the ground, he lunged ahead to wash his hands.  Good boy!  Well, that’s what I would have said had he not put his foot directly onto the pile of yuck in his underwear on the floor.  Not sure whether to laugh or cry, I looked around for a hidden camera.  Maybe I’m being Punk’d by a two year-old, I thought.  I must really love him because I didn’t put him up for adoption at that point.  Instead, I called back the hazmat crew (me) and cleaned up the rest of the mess.

Miraculously, Riley did not make another mess of any kind in the few minutes it took to finish cleaning up.  Two questions kept swirling around in my head after I walked out of the bathroom looking like I had just battled a dragon.  1) How does my kid not mind stepping in poop?  And 2) why doesn’t this ever happen when Dad is on duty?  Riley was kind and waited a full 2.5 hours before he decided to baste my sofa in a marinade of dry rice and barbeque sauce.  And if you are wondering about that sippy cup – it is now retired and residing in a nice landfill nearby.

Happy Father’s Day!

Me & my dad 1996

My dad is a pretty special guy.  I didn’t get him the traditional way.  We don’t share DNA.  He wasn’t there when I was born and he didn’t have to change any of my diapers.  He didn’t adopt me and no, he didn’t steal me from someone’s backyard and pretend I was his.  He wasn’t even there for any of my teenage years (something I’m sure my mom is very jealous about.)  My dad was actually a wedding “gift” from my mom when she married him.  When she walked down the aisle and said “I do”, she was saying “I do” for more than just herself.  She said “I do” for our family.

I wasn’t a kid when Woody popped into my life.  I had just graduated from high school when I met him.  And I liked him right away.  He was easy going, kind, he loved to laugh, and he truly loved my mom.  So I was pretty excited when he told me he was going to propose to her.  And I was thrilled the day they got married and he officially became part of our family.

So my dad is technically my stepdad.  Yep, I’m one of the lucky people who got a stepdad.  (No, I’m not being sarcastic.)  I really am lucky.  I hit the stepparent jackpot.  My mom chose well.  Her second-husband-picking-skills must be pretty amazing.  I instantly liked him and in time, I loved him.  He does what dads do.  He worries about me, he always wants the best for me, he misses me when I’m gone…  He loves me unconditionally.  This might sound shocking, but I haven’t always been perfect.  I’ve driven him crazy and I’ve disappointed him, maybe even broken his heart a little.  But he still loves me.

No, he wasn’t around when I learned to ride a bike or even drive a car. But he was the one who packed me up and drove me to college for the first time.   He walked me down the aisle when I got married.  He’s the one who calls to check on me, and who flies 1,000 or 3,000 miles to visit me.  He’s the one who calls me his Princess.

Well, he called me Princess until new royalty showed up.  Six years after getting the title of “Dad”, he got another nickname:  Grandfather, or Ya Ya, as we call him.  My daughter was born and she became his little princess.  And I loved him even more because of it.  He put his arms around Megan and instantly fell in love with her.  There was never a question in his mind – that little baby was his granddaughter.  He has earned the title of Ya Ya three more times since then, and each time it’s been the same thing.  They are his grandsons.  His boys.

Ya Ya and Megan

Ya Ya and his boys

So my dad is a pretty special dad.  He doesn’t love me because he has to or because of how incredibly adorable I was when I was a baby.  He made a choice to love me.  Because he loved my Mom, he loved me and let me love him.  He chose to be my dad.  He is the one that cares for me and worries about me.  He is the one that wants me to come home to visit, wants me to live nearby, calls to check up on me, comes to spend Christmas with me, loves my kids and wants to be with them.

Not all stepparents are like the evil stepmother in Cinderella.  Some of us have parents that make good choices and find wonderful partners.  Wonderful partners who step up and fill a vacancy in our lives.  He may technically be my stepdad, but he is really my dad.  My real dad.  I wouldn’t trade him for any other dad in the world.

Happy Father’s Day Pops!  I love you.

A Gift to Remember

There is one birthday gift that I received this year that I will cherish forever.  It’s a pretty special gift given to me by some very special people.  In order to explain what this gift is, I need to share a story…

A few days ago, a dad took his two young boys to a bookstore to play and shop in the children’s section while their mom was at an appointment at the hospital.  He had been working long hours recently and hadn’t been able to spend much time with his boys for a while.  While they were enjoying their time together, the four-year-old little boy pointed to a paint book and said to his dad “I want to get this for a kid in the hospital.”  The little boy then picked up two books – one for a girl and one for a boy.  He was insistent that they buy them.  The dad was so moved by his little boy’s request that he took him to a nearby store where they shopped for toys.  They put the toys they bought into two gift bags – one for a girl and one for a boy.  They then drove to the hospital to meet up with their mom and surprise her with their good deed.   She was overwhelmed with joy and pride as she saw her two little boys and her husband walking toward her with their packages.  She knew the gifts weren’t for her; she suspected they were something far more special.  Tears ran down her cheek as they explained that the gifts were for children at the hospital.  And she was especially touched to learn that it was her four-year-old’s idea.  How does a four-year-old come up with such a wonderful idea?  The teary-eyed mom was amazed as she walked into the hospital with her boys and accompanied them to the Pediatric Unit to deliver their Random Act of Kindness.

My sweet boys

My eyes tear up and my smile gets bigger very time I read that story.  Perhaps it is because that four-year-old little boy is my four-year-old little boy.   My sweet little Noah came up with a Random Act of Kindness on his own.  He finally had an hour with his dad and he wanted to spend it doing something nice for someone else.

So my most precious birthday gift came almost a week after my birthday.  It was that my Random Acts of Kindness had such an impact on my child that he was inspired to do a Random Act of Kindness of his own.  He chose to do something to brighten up someone’s day and in doing so he melted my heart forever.

-Kristi

“No act of kindness, no matter how small, is ever wasted.” ~Aesop

RAOK – The Last Installment

Well, they’re done.  Phew!  I have completed my birthday Random Acts of Kindness.  It took over a week, but I finally completed my to-do list.  I’ve baked, delivered, and I tried to be kind.

13)  Buy a coffee for someone in the drive-thru.  I bought a $5 gift card with my order, popped a little note into the gift card holder, and asked the girl to give it to the car behind me.  I tried to do this several times earlier in the week and NO ONE pulled in behind me at the drive-thru.  No complaints from me because it meant that I got to visit my favorite coffee shop, Aroma Joe’s, a few extra times.

Treat for the mailman

13)  Leave a treat for the mailman.  I baked jumbo chocolate chip cookies and boxed them up.  We scurried out to put the box in the mailbox when we saw him coming down the street.  Noah was so excited he insisted on staying in the front yard to watch the mailman find his surprise.

14)  Open doors for people.  I made an extra effort to hold open doors for people.  I also tried to run ahead to open the door for people with strollers or bags in their arms.  That one was not always easy with my wayward ducklings (Noah and Riley) in tow, but I tried.

16)  Donate clothes and toys.  The day before my birthday, a local thrift shop put up a large sign saying they needed donations.  Talk about a sign!   So I gathered up all the clothes and toys I had been saving and dropped them off.  It turns out that the thrift shop funds local emergency response volunteers.  Not a bad use for my old things…

17)  Take treats to the Fire Department.  Boys love fire trucks.  So off to our local fire station we went.  The third time was the charm – the firefighters were  out on a call the first two times we went.  I didn’t want to give them stale cookies, so I started over and made another batch of those Mocha Caramel cupcakes.  The Dover Fire Department is absolutely amazing.  They were so appreciative.  Somehow we ended up leaving with goodies.  They gave the kids fire hats and music CDs about safely.  (It’s actually our fire fighters singing on the CD and the kids think its the best thing ever.)

18)  Take treats to the Police Department.  That cupcake recipe makes a lot of cupcakes, so we took some over to the Police Department too.  The officer we gave them too seemed genuinely surprised that someone would do such a thing for them.  I’m guessing that they don’t have a lot of strangers bringing them treats.  I hope they didn’t think they were laced with poison.

Basket of toys for the Birth Center

19)  Take toys to the Birth Center at the hospital.  We took a bin of small toys and coloring books for the nurses to have on hand if there is a little visitor that needs a extra entertainment.

I always made sure to have little gifts and snacks in my labor bag for my kids when they visited their new brothers so they would feel special too.  Plus it can be boring when you’re confined to a small room while everyone oohs and aahs over the new poop machine in the family.  Plus I know what it’s like to have a 2 year old that can’t sit still for more than 1.3 seconds and try to contain him in a small “holding cell”.

20)  Send a treat to a friend.  I baked some sugar cookies and sent them priority mail to a friend of mine.

21)  Write a letter to my son’s teacher.  She is pretty wonderful.  I don’t know how she has a social life at all with the time and effort she puts into teaching.  She has done amazing things for Josh this year and I’ll always be grateful.  I want to make sure she knows how much I appreciate her hard work.  I also sent a copy of the letter to the principal.  The person who gave me this idea happens to have been Megan’s 2nd grade teacher.  I wish I would have thought of this idea on my own a few years ago so that I could have written the letter to her.  Thank you Cynthia for the great idea and for being such a wonderful teacher.

22)  Share the experience.  This part hasn’t been easy for me, but it’s been worth the effort.  The responses have been so kind and encouraging and I thank you for it.  It makes my heart happy to hear that some people were even inspired to do Random Acts of Kindness themselves.  If you are one of them, I’d LOVE to hear what you do!

My original plan was to do all of my Random Acts of Kindness in one day.  It’s a blessing that I didn’t.  My kids were able to join me on my journey, and I hope they never forget it.  The Random Acts of Kindness became a regular topic of conversation for us as we planned our adventures.  So regular, that it seems to have become the “norm” in our house.

What began as a birthday adventure for me has become something much more now.  This may be the Last Installment, but it is not the end of my Random Acts of Kindness journey.  It is just the beginning….

-Kristi

“Never get tired of doing little things for others.  Sometimes those little things occupy the biggest part of their hearts.” –Anonymous