We are on day 10 of The Husband being out of town, with 3 days left until he's back from his latest work trip. At least I think that's where we are. I've really lost track.
Last Sunday we took him to the airport. He usually rides the shuttle, but we thought the boys would appreciate seeing the airport. Forgot it was the busiest travel day of the year. We stopped for lunch on the way at a fast food place. I tried to get The Boy to go to the bathroom, but when I peeked in the stall to check on him, he was standing in there, fully clothed, doing an air guitar solo. He said he couldn't go. So by the time we got to the airport he really had to go. The Husband had two rolling suitcases, so we put a kid on each and rolled them like kings through the crowds to the Husband's ticketing counter. BeYoYo proudly waved to the crowd as he rolled. We split up and I speed walked The Boy to the bathroom. We darted between people and yelled excuse me over our shoulders, barely making it in time for him to make it to the bathroom. When we got back to the ticketing counter, The Boy broke into a full sprint heading back to BeYoYo. BeYoYo spread his arms out and ran toward The Boy. The crowd let out an audible "awww", obviously thinking that these guys had been traveling and missed each other. Except it was for 3 minutes that they'd been apart. As one was running from one direction, and the other from the other direction, they face planted into each other and fell to the ground with a thud. The crowd winced for them as they fell limp against the tile, a blur of little arms and squeals of laughter. We left The Husband at the airport, and maybe there was a tear in our collective eye.
On Tuesday I had to take BeYoYo back to the neurologist for a checkup. He's fine, and his EEG was normal. We still aren't totally sure what's up with his weird eye movements (see
this post if you don't know what I'm talking about), but it's likely nothing to worry about. They're a total pediatric practice, so each of his super heroes got a thorough checkup too. I'm happy to say they're also okay. The nurse gave BeYoYo a toy to play with while she measured his head. It was like an hour glass filled with little balls, and you watch them filter from side to side. He said "dat just wike what mommy have!" I clarified "mommy has something like this?", knowing I don't own any hour glass toys. He nodded his head and added "it just fo gwown ups." OH.
Ladies and gentlemen, he meant a wine glass.
On Wednesday we had a tornado. I had clients cancel appointments, and the school called for me to come get The Boy. I rushed home, passing a funnel cloud behind the surplus building supply store. My mom was at home with BeYoYo, and we all huddled together in the laundry room playing restaurant and putting magnetic nativity pieces on the washer. (BeYoYo calls the parents Mary and Josie. We're very progressive). The Husband texted from Arkansas "if it gets bad enough, get the flashlights and y'all go around back and get under the crawl space." No we will not army crawl under the house in the dirt in a tornado with these two children, thankyouverymuch. You know how
he loves an emergency. I figured we had Jesus and Mary and Josie right here in the laundry room with us, what could be safer than that? The storm soon passed and we were released from our bunker without harm.
Thursday we skipped work and school and headed to Florida. My stepmom's family has a holiday get together there every year. So we went down early and took the boys to LegoLand. I'm not going to lie, it was great. We rode rides, we saw a show (spoiler alert: the friends saved the day), we saw Lego cities, we ate. We ate lunch at an over-priced basic pizza and pasta buffet. Remember when Wendy's used to have a buffet in the 90s? This is where all their unused pasta and sauce got sent, apparently. But The Boy LOVED it. He ate four plates of pasta and meat sauce, followed by a plate of salad. I asked him if he was even chewing it, and he said "I can't! I just love it so much!" Later he said it was "the best healthy thing I've ever ate." Bless him. BeYoYo pushed through without a real nap that day, so we gave him his boppie in the stroller for some down town. He wanted so badly to stay awake. At one point he couldn't decide if he wanted to eat his ice cream cone or have his boppie. Life is hard.
 |
| I'm not even tired. |
My stepbrother, Tyler, took the boys on a boat ride. BeYoYo was madder than a hornet that Tyler wouldn't let him drive the whole time. I told him Tyler needed a turn to keep us safe. He yelled at Tyler, "DON'T KEEP ME SAFE, TY-YER!"
 |
| Ninja Turtles in life jackets |
It took 90 hours for us to get there and 100 hours to get home, but we made it back on Sunday night, fueled with powdered donuts and bugles.Today we were in the car listening to one of the kids' CDs that haunts my brain even after it's off, and we were singing along with Five Little Monkeys Jumping On The Bed. BeYoYo stopped all the singing and asked "Where the Daddy Monkey?" What?? He asked again "Where the Daddy Monkey?" Good point, actually. "Yeah", I said.
"Where IS the Daddy Monkey? Down with Patriarchy! Why do we just assume that the mommy monkey has to be the one to call the doctor? Where is the daddy monkey? Why didn't the daddy monkey call the doctor? Why have I never questioned this myself? Why do we make sure to include that the daddy on the bus tells the baby shhh, shhh, shhh, but I've never thought to change the words to this song? Daddy Monkeys can call the doctor just as easily as Mommy Monkeys can. Maybe during this song the Daddy Monkey was in the bathroom. Or working in Arkansas."
My monologue was lost on BeYoYo, who responded with "I want popcorn."
I've put BeYoYo to bed 75 times tonight. He's discovered that he can get up from his bed, open his bedroom door, and go wake up The Boy to play. For awhile I sat outside his door and told him every 30 seconds to go back to bed. He'd run back to his bed, then come back in 27 seconds. The Boy laid at the foot of his bed across the hall, enjoying it way too much. When I came downstairs to get my computer, he was crawling out of his room, but with his eyes closed so I couldn't see him.
Finally I tried to put up the baby gate but it was warped and he just kept knocking it down. Desperate, I texted our neighbor to borrow a gate. Now he's up there yelling "bubba, I can't get out!" The Boy has come down 14 times to tattle that his brother is upstairs yelling. I know it's frustrating, because
I also have ears. I pleaded with The Boy AGAIN to ignore his brother, and tried to explain toddler logic. He listened, and then he sheepishly said "But I don't know what ignore means".
Someone please pass me something in a glass shaped like the toy at the neurologist's office.
