You know it is going to be a long day when you wake up with "sad clown eyes." That's how Eric and I affectionately refer to smudged mascara on my face.
First, it's nothing but a small miracle I apply the stuff each day. And let me say I am in love with my Tarte mascara, but just the mention that a copy of Steel Magnolias within a 5 mile radius, and it starts weeping onto my cheeks. It is usually spread down my cheeks as a result of me rubbing my eyes at night.
What-do you have conjunctivitis or something? No, unless this is the first post you've ever read on my blog, you know exactly why I rub my eyes a lot. Their names are Miles and Felix, and even though (praise jeebus) they are both sleeping through the night, I have 2 years of sleep to catch up on. And you know it's a 1 to 3 ratio. 1 night of sleeplessness requires 3 full nights of sleep to make up for it--no, I really do think there is some empirical evidence on that.
I usually remove the sad clown eyes at night...but I was working until 10:59pm last night. (Well, and the last hour simultaneously chatting with my other preemie mama SM.) Eric sleepily bid adieu more than an hour earlier, so I crept into the room late night and had the internal debate:
"You know, you really only have energy to do one personal care activity right now. Sad clown, or teeth brushing?"
Easy choice. Especially given my track record from last week. I even grabbed the foaming SLS Tom's because I knew the foam would make me feel cleaner, and someone has to make a dent in the $36 worth of toothpaste we have stock piled in our closet.
But that meant I woke up as an even sadder clown (with clean teeth). Eric, at breakfast, "You have major sad clown action this morning."
That's code for--what a week. You better wipe that off and reapply before you rush out the door to make it to PT by 8am. If not, you know they will make Felix go for a few extra weeks if they think you don't wash off your make-up every night. Smudged mascara clearly screams "questionable home environment!", and they'll pretend his tort neck isn't quite perfect so they can monitor him--rather YOU--regularly, and they'll make notes in pen in his chart that you cannot see except for the words "worried" "mom" "unstable."And you know it's serious when they use pen...
Now THAT'S some exaggeration. But I have to concoct a story like that so I get motivated to clean it off when I am just so plum tired. I already knew I was going to have to use my lunch break to take a shower because I decided to bounce with Felix when he got up for a good 15 minutes (it WAS a ripe 5:53am) instead of jumping in the shower. Looking back, I feel like the hot shower would have been a better option than the quad exercise. But Eric was comatose and it takes him a good 20 minutes to rouse, and Felix either needs to be rocked, entertained, or changed upon waking. (Of note, I think he wakes up early from pooping--anyone know how to stop him from doing that? Beggars cannot be choosers, but 6:20 would be so much better than any time beginning with 5.) At least I have great legs...I just need the shower to get them shaved.
Okay, and HOW does a profane breakfast treat come into play, Ali?
Stay with me. This is what happens to my brain by Fridays some weeks. I already wrote my friend a thesis on sippy cups this morning.
When I am in sad clown mode, I tend to be at such a point of exhaustion, that I get creative, verbose, inquisitive, stupid...or all of the above.
Kids say the funniest things, as you read from my past post. And the latest and greatest is that Miles uses profanity in his attempt to talk about breakfast. He has a packet of TJ's oatmeal every morning with dried fruit sprinkled throughout. Not only is he still just casually dating prepositions, but he is certainly not even close to a monogamous relationship with accurate pronunciations. (But we'll take it!) Banana is "bee-mahna", yellow is "wellow", and oatmeal is "a-hole."
"What do you want for breakfast?"
"Make sure your oatmeal is not too hot before taking a bite."
"Daddy, my a-hole not hot! It cool down!"
"Miles, take medium sized ones [bites] or tiny ones. No big ones."
"I eat big one with my a-hole."
Nothing like that kind of humor at 6:30am. Every.single.morning. (If I haven't lost you know, this could push you over the edge!). Luckily, we are too tired to laugh, so we aren't reinforcing him by making him think he is making a "funny." The kid can say "oat" and he can say "meal," but when he combines them, it turns ugly.
As I was in the prime of my sad clown inquisitive phase, and hearing Miles unable to really grasp accurate pronunciations, I wondered out loud to Eric:
"Do you think if a Chinese family adopted Miles at this age that he could learn Chinese easily? Do you think he would have problems with pronunciations in their language? Would he remember English?"
And at this, Miles screamed "CHI-NAAAA!" Which I already knew he wanted me to paraphrase the entire Knuffle Bunny Free book over his swear word breakfast. (But I opted for Knuffle Bunny Too because the story is a little shorter, and recently we've needed to work on the "sharing" lesson prominently featured in that edition.)
Eric gave me some scientific answer that was too early for me to process, but I do remember him saying something about brain elasticity. I just thought about how I used to think Miles spoke Mandarin, and maybe it would give him a leg up.
I entered into the sad clown creative side and thought, "I totally need to regularly video tape Miles answering a standard list of questions to see how his language and his voice changes over time."
Well, the truth is, it wasn't so much creativity as it was hijacking another friend and mommy blogger's idea and updating it with technology. TG recently posted a list of questions she asked her daughter, and her answers. And she said she would ask her again in a little bit to see how her answers changed. Clever! I've already forced my toddler into saying things that I think are cute, but now I can pretend that there is a reason beyond my own entertainment--documenting growth and maturity! And with it on video, I have record of it forever. (I still love hearing a tape of me at about Miles's age when I was screaming "HEART HEART HEART" and my brother said the pledge. When my mom got to "one nation, under God..." he spoke up and said, "No, Jesus!" in a little lisp. We didn't have Flip cameras in those days, but the library of audio tapes we recorded are priceless.)
I hope tonight I can create our first entry. I have a feeling his answers will be "ummm..." or "Judy." (That's his imaginary friend...another story, another post).
So, here's my list so far. I cannot get too long because he'll lose interest, and inevitably say "I SEE?" when I start filming:
What's your full name?
And then I'll probably ask some more family names (brother, mom, dad, grandparents, uncles, aunts, etc)
What is your favorite color?
What do you want to do for work when you get old? (not sure he knows what a job is)
What's your favorite book?
Who is your favorite friend?
What is your favorite animal?
What is your favorite food?
Where do you go to school?
I may have to ask him what he eats for breakfast...of course, if I want to put it on the blog, I will thoughtfully reconsider.