Okay, I’ve spent the better part of today looking for the damn letter “Q”. That alphabet train puzzle that Andrew does 32 times a day – “Q” is missing. (Reminds me of the Sesame Street parody on Law and Order – Special Letters Unit – “SLU” – I need to call them in – can you describe the “Q” – well, it’s round and has a backwards comma on the bottom of it – and it’s on the lamb.” Suddenly you hear baa baa in the background.
Now we have the number train too – he saw it at Marshalls and flipped out. Letters and numbers – did you ever think a parent would complain about a child wanting to play with letters and numbers all day…it’s not that I mind that – it’s just he needs me there to supervise – (missing letters etc.) – when he plays trucks – I don’t need to be there to be the pit crew – I can be scrubbing the toilet.
So we do matching games (letters and numbers), alphabet games, number games…all day long…every day…day in and day out. He better be a rich writer or scientist and buy me a big fancy house for all this educational stuff!
We signed up for a toddler play program yesterday at the Police Athletic League in New Hyde Park. The teacher Miss Bess – is a tiny thing with a big whistle. They seem to listen more times than not. Either yesterday or Tuesday at class, kids were running everywhere and someone said they would need Tylenol before teaching the class – I said, “I would need a Morphine drip” to do it.
Well, I’m doing everything possible to get the ABC/123 Prodigy to use the potty – every night before he takes a bath he pees on the potty – but he likes to “poop in the corner” as he puts it. Every day he tries to find something new to freak me out “I like my poopy diaper.” “I like my stinky cup.” (If I find his cup all gross and laying in the corner.) Today, while wiping him and changing his diaper…he was complaining – I told him, “don’t you want to be all clean and not be stinky anymore”…he said, “No, I like to eat my poop.” Dear God, he hasn’t but he says things to get a rise out of me – honestly – I’m not making this up – he waits for my reaction.
I know he would never try to eat anything of that nature – because he freaks out when he gets chocolate icing on his fingers from a cupcake and he loves those. “Wipe my hands mommy….Dry my hands mommy.”
Off to make supper. The baby onesie cookies are done! Hooray!
Tonight I can do nothing but read cookbooks and watch brainless television. God Bless America!