The Baby Grudge

One of the greatest things about small children is that they forgive and forget pretty easily. MJ could get mad at Mason or Me for any given reason (time outs, not buying a toy, etc.) and pretty much be fine a few minutes later. I don’t know when the age is that a child starts to think about why they are angry at another person and hold a grudge against them. Well, not until Super Bowl Sunday that is.

Mason, MJ and I went to our friend Len’s house for the big game and it was a lot of fun when we got there. MJ took to our friend Tara pretty quickly, which gave me the opportunity to play some games and hang out a little. We played an old favorite of mine, Beer Pong, which I haven’t played in a long time. I was teamed up with Len and we were playing against Mason and another one of his friends. Len seemed to already be a little bit tipsy and drinking a few beers added to some Jell-O Shots he was in really good mood.

I want to add a little aside here. This sounds like I took my 3 year old to a drinking party, which it was far from. There was the one game of Beer Pong and a few Jell-O shots but that is it. When the Beer Pong game ended the drinking was pretty much over. Mason and I are not bad parents…I don’t think.

Back to my story: MJ was having fun in this strange house running from the living room to the dining room and back. In the entrance way between the dining room to the living room there is a small spot where he could stand behind the lip of the wall and peek at everyone in the dining room. When Len caught a glimpse of this he decided it would be fun to surprise MJ and be there when he peeked around again. Well, more like jump around the wall and scare him. The adults thought this was funny and cute because of that baby scream and relieved little giggle when he realized who it was. Mason and I have done this to him as well and he usually finds it funny. Not this time. MJ was pissed.

He ran into Mason’s arms and refused to go near Len, who he normally loves to play with. So in order to get back into MJ’s good graces Len decided to suck up to him. He tried getting on the floor to help him do his puzzles, but MJ would yell at him to get back on the couch. He tried to let him play with his cell phone, but MJ would grunt with annoyance and give it back to him. Len would try to give him a high five with no avail. This went on for quite awhile and much to the Len’s dismay, we took the opportunity to exploit the fact that MJ would play with everyone else in the room. We all asked him for a high five, which he gladly gave each of us. Even friends of ours that MJ had never met. MJ even turned down a cookie. He simply said, “No, you eat it.”

Finally, with a last resort effort, Len decided to allow MJ to play with his Guitar Hero guitar. This actually worked and we were stunned. Throughout almost the entire Super Bowl game he held his baby grudge, refused to play with Len and gave us the opportunity to make fun of him for it. It was hilarious.

I am very glad that MJ let it go by the end of the day and was able to make friends with Len again, but it was really funny while it lasted. And I got my answer to the baby grudge question. It sets in at about 3½.

Thanksgiving- Cursing Ahead! Ye Be Warned!

So I have had quite a lull in the MJ story department recently. Amazingly, he has not done anything so atrocious that I have had to share it with my readers. But it made me think about the crazy things that he has done. One of my favorites happened on Thanksgiving Day of 2006.

Everyone knows that a child is like a sponge. They absorb everything that they see and hear. It may be a cliché but a very fitting one at that. That is why you really should be careful of what you say and do around small children. Kids look up to the bigger people and they want to do the things that we do. This is how all people learn of course and I am sure that this is where we all learn to curse as well. Oh, boy, the children learn to curse…and at the exact time that you absolutely do not want them to do it.

Let me give you a little background about the cursing that goes on in our house. It happens, somewhat often and I don’t condone doing it around children, but everyone does it. They are full of shit if they say they don’t….see, you don’t even notice it sometimes. If something goes wrong Mason tends to say the phrase ‘fucking shit’. Inventive, I know, but it isn’t said that often. And you don’t realize that you say ‘holy shit’, ‘god damn it’, and any other cursing catch phrase that may flee your mouth in a moment of anger, pain, etc. We used to try to keep back but it didn’t work, besides, MJ didn’t seem to be absorbing it and that was good, right? We were wrong, he was SAVING it.

Thanksgiving morning of this passed year, we were feeding the birds outside of our back door. Mason had come back in and retreated to the restroom to do only god knows what. We rarely let MJ in the backyard because he rarely has shoes on. (I believe that this was the reason he started to get mad.) As he stared out the sliding glass doors longing to be in the outside world frightening away the birds that so graciously were gobbling up the bird seed we set out for them, he exclaimed, “Fucking Shit!” As I used every muscle in my body stifling a laugh, I calmly explained to him that what he said was not very nice and that he shouldn’t say it any more. After that I ran off to tell Mason what he had said and we giggled a little bit. Now don’t get me wrong, I really don’t want MJ to curse but hearing a phrase like that come out in that sweet little voice is absolutely hysterical.

Later on we were getting ready to go to dinner at Mason’s parent’s house, when MJ yelled “HOLY SHIT!!” out of the blue. Was he testing the waters? It sounds cool when Mommy says it maybe I can say it too. So as Mason lost it, I had to again tell MJ that what he said was not nice. The only thought going through my head was what he might say at dinner.

I should also tell you that on this passed Thanksgiving I was extremely sick. I had a horrific sore throat as well as pink eye in both eyes. I wasn’t in the mood to put up with family being disappointed in me, especially one that I wasn’t born into. I dreaded that a slew of harsh words would flow from my son like a pirate the minute we walked in the door. I was nervous. When we got there, I was pleasantly surprised to hear nothing but sweetness coming from my adorable baby boy. I was more relaxed as the evening passed by and pleasantly pleased that my son hadn’t sworn in front of the family.

As we sat down to dinner, I dished MJ some turkey which he adamantly refused to eat and so Mason’s mother proceeded to make him chicken nuggets. We sat there eating for a few minutes and MJ pushed the food around on his plate and, “God Damn-It!” came flying out of his mouth. Sadly, I was relieved. I didn’t care that my son had just cursed; he didn’t drop the F-Bomb or say shit or anything remotely horrible. In fact, I was so relieved that I don’t remember scolding him for cursing. Mason’s brother laughed and I am not really sure how his parents reacted because I simply didn’t care. The rest of the night went by without any further incidents and we were able to go home at a fairly decent hour.

It was definitely the first time MJ had cursed and I will admit how cute and funny it was. It certainly wasn’t the last time he used foul language. I have heard it said on several different occasions and I always calmly tell him that what he said was not nice. But deep inside I am giggling like a little school girl because I still can’t believe how sweet it sounds when he says it.

EEEEWWWWWW!!!!!!!!!

So when I give MJ a bath he absolutely hates it if I stay in the bathroom with him. It’s like he needs his privacy or something. I know that he is only 3 so when he tells me to get out I step into my bedroom which is literally 2 steps from the bathroom and I peek in on him every minute. I am not neglecting him; I am still a good mother. Besides, it is fun to listen to his little splashing around and playing with his bath toys.

Sometimes we will hear a little too much splashing and come in to find water dripping from the ceiling and the walls. As MJ smiles from ear to ear, Mason and I have a flood to clean up. It is amazing how fast they can make messes by the way. Other times he is an angel and plays nice with his little Backyardigans Pirate Ship. It is truly amazing how many personalities a toddler can have.

But yesterday morning he was splashing around and I peeked in on him every few minutes as I was getting ready for work. It was a typical bath time when all of a sudden I heard, “The water! The water!” in his whiny little voice. I ran in to the bathroom thinking he pulled the plug on the drain to find something much worse. MJ was squatting over the water with a 5 inch turd floating in the water between his legs.

God Damn-it! @#$#^!@%^*@#&!!!!!!!

It was 7:40 am. I had to be out of the house by 7:55 to MJ to the babysitter’s on time to get me to work by 8:30. Guess what wasn’t happening. That’s right, me getting to work on time.

I swiftly picked MJ out of the tub and grabbed a wipey dragged it up his little baby butt crack to clean whatever may be left over. I wrapped his favorite Sponge Bob Square Pants towel around him and sat him in front of the TV. Only god knows what he might have been watching, but I had bigger things on my mind. Like how the hell to get that disgustingness out of my bathtub without having to change from my work clothes. As I stood there staring at the chocolate hot dog settling to the bottom of my bathtub these are some of the ideas that ran through my head:

-I could use a huge wad of toilet paper and scoop it out, but that would mean I had to put my hand in the water with it. You see it quickly had a few pieces float off of it and scatter about the rest of the tub. It was like Remora’s on a Shark. I did not want to deal with that.
- I could let the water run out and then get it out with a paper towel or something, but that would take too long.

I felt like Jimmy Neutron, Boy Genius…Think, think BRAIN BLAST!!!! I had it. MJ had a rather large shovel for our trips to the beach. I could scoop it out with that and use it to flip the stopper as well! Now all I had to do was find it. I had to think fast before the thing disintegrated into 5,000 little floaters. I would start with the toy bin in the living room. As I started rooting through it I saw something shiny behind it. The purple shovel looked like heaven. I ran back up to the bathroom scooped the tootsie roll from the water and flushed it down the toilet. I flipped the plug and prayed that all of the giblets would follow the water down the drain. I knew that if they didn’t, Mason would come home and complain about them still being in the tub, but I didn’t have time to care.

I rushed in to MJ, through an outfit on him, I am not sure if it matched or not. We ran down the stairs through on our coats and shoes and were out the door at 8:00. I dropped him off at the sitter’s and was I pulled into work at 8:30. Holy Crap…I had gotten to work on time.

Hey Mommy!

Think about that phrase. Now try to imagine hearing a little boy saying it. Can you hear it? OK. Now try imaging that little boy yelling it at the top of his lungs. You might be thinking, ‘now that seems kind of cute; a sweet little boy yelling for his mommy.’ Now, imagine hearing that at 3:00am. Not so cute!

Now in my first post, I referenced that my son slept with me until we moved into our townhouse. I was relieved when MJ took to his new bed right off the bat. The first two nights we had to come in to sleep with him around 2ish. Then he started sleeping through the night without a sound. For some ungodly reason, months later, he has decided that whenever he wakes up in the middle of the night he isn’t going to roll back over and go back to sleep. He is going to scream for me. That’s right folks, “Hey Mommy!” is a nightly occurrence for me. There is no “Hey Daddy!” belted out at 2:00 in the morning. This is so not fair.

But before you start thinking about how mean I am for hating the fact the every single night I am woken up with the shrills of my son’s every whim, let me tell you the reasons.

1. I want a glass of water – Now I am not opposed to getting my thirsty little boy a cup of water in the middle of the night. What I am opposed to doing is going down the stairs in the dark because he is demanding a sippy cup of water. I have actually put my foot down on this one and he now knows that even if he demands a sippy cup, he is getting the glass next to the sink.
2. I want to watch Cars – Do I need to explain my frustration with this one?
3. I want Daddy – Remember how I said that he doesn’t scream for Mason, well even if he wants him, I must be the messenger. How lovely! That is when I go in to Mason and whack him with a pillow or something (just because it makes me feel better) to let him know that MJ wants his Daddy.
4. You coming? – Yes, the little boy wants me to sleep with him. Unfortunately, I don’t find his bed as comfy as mine so when I wake up with the crick in my neck and my butt has fallen asleep, I am in a not so hot mood.

These are only four of the many, many reasons that I have been summoned to my sweet child’s room in the wee hours of the night. I am sure that there have been many other reasons I have forgotten, or even blocked out because they are too aggravating for me to even think about.

But let me pose this one question to you. Why is it on the nights that he doesn’t wake up I wake up worried because I haven’t been summoned by him? And, why is it that I force myself to get up to check on him and end up waking him up because the damn floor creaks, and I have to lay with him anyhow? Is it some higher power playing mind games on me? My internal clock telling me that now is the time I usually get up to check on him? Or could it possibly be a mother’s love? Perhaps I will never know, but what ever it may be needs to understand that with every minute of sleep that I lose, my craziness grows just a little more. Maybe someday I will be that crazy lady that roams around town staring creepily into store windows and at passersby. I’ve got to say, I think I know I she feels now and why she does it. Maybe she too, was a crazy mother.

Ow, My Balls

Now that you have a little bit of a background about MJ and Me, the stories will begin (not in any particular order). I would like to tell you the balls story because it so fresh in my head.

You know how small children have the tendency to randomly beat up men’s balls, right? It isn’t on purpose, is only for the plain and simple reason that they are at nut level. Well, MJ is constantly jumping, hitting, and beating up Mason’s private areas. They are boys, they rough house more than girls and they have fun doing it. Of course it is at the expense of Mason’s testicles.

All too often I will be reading a book, cleaning up or doing any other random act while they are playing and all of a sudden I will hear the yelp. Mason writhing in pain because sweet little MJ just crushed his manhood and friends and MJ is giggling at the sight of his Daddy rolling around in pain. At seeing this reaction, he tries to do it again, not realizing that he is squashing Mason’s nuts into oblivion. This happens at least once a day and I am convinced that MJ is ensuring that he will be an only child. During this writhing in pain, Mason yells out, “Oh, my balls, MJ!” After hearing this consistently everyday for three years you know that it is going to sink in.

One morning last week, Mason and I were still asleep and sweet little MJ comes into our room and starts climbing up on the bed and simply states. “My balls hurt, Mommy.” As you can imagine, Mason and I lost it in our half a sleep daze and startling giggling uncontrollably. Of course the laughter caused MJ to repeat this over and over, until Mason decided to say, “Oh, MJ, mommy will kiss it and make it all better.” Mother f…Well I was pleasantly surprised when he stuck his foot in my face and asked me to kiss it, which I gladly did. Why he thought that his balls hurt is a mystery to me but the story of course does not end there.

A few days later we were getting him ready for bed. He had a cold and we were trying to give him some medicine when he ran out of the bathroom and trip over a toy. “Ow! My balls!” he explained (more giggling from the two of us of course). I almost peed my self laughing actually.

It is so unexpected when he says it and now I actually think he understands where the ball vicinity is. This is because about two days ago MJ and I were heading to the grocery store. We walked out the front door and he walked straight into the car…on purpose. You can guess what he said next, “Oh my balls!” but this time yelling it for all to hear. So trying to stifle my giggles, I tried to hurry him into the car. But he bumping his little nether region repeatedly into my car and exclaiming that his balls hurt over and over again. It was like what happens in a movie. Everything goes wrong and it all happens in slow motion. I couldn’t get the key in the car to unlock it. When I finally did MJ won’t move out of the way for me to open the door, and his charades persist. Then I drop my purse and he gets louder. Finally, I get him in his car seat and sit down in the driver’s seat and half to take a breather. All I can think about is that he is going to see my mother the next day and I pray it won’t happen in front of her. But I can imagine the look of disappointment on her face when she tells me what my son said to her and that my brother’s and I would never have said anything like that when we were little. Oh boy, I can’t wait.

Dear god, what will he be like when he is a teenager!

MJ

First of all, writing out Mason and Mason Jr. is getting on my nerves so from now on Mason Jr. will be known as MJ (not to be confused with Spiderman’s girlfriend, ‘cause that would be weird). Now that we have that cleared up I would like to tell you a little bit about him.

As written in my previous post he was an unexpected surprise and arrived on September 26, 2003. He was a week early much to my delight because Mason and his fellow siblings were all about 10lbs when they were born. OUCH! Let me tell you, it was hard enough to squeeze out 7lbs and 14oz, but the pain went away as soon as I laid eyes on him. He was beautiful, and Mason and I were hooked. Our first mistake!

MJ has never been a quiet child. As we speak he screaming to me from his bedroom for me to find his blue Lightening McQueen, which has been lost in the abyss that is his closet. He had some pipes on him that’s for sure. When he wanted something that is how he would get what he wanted, he still does. Of course he had his grandparents suckered in the first moment they laid eyes on him. They would pick him up at the first sign of a whimper. God forbid you let him cry for a minute or two. The cries would become screams and still until this day that is how he gets what he wants…sometimes. It worked a lot better when he couldn’t walk and talk.

Spoiled is another word that comes to mind. MJ has every toy I could possibly think of targeted for a 3 year old boy. He doesn’t play with half of them, but why save our money when we can have a house full of toys to trip over on our way to the bathroom in the middle of the night? It makes sense to me. But in all honesty, he does have a lot of toys that get played with 3 or 4 times before they become dust catchers. And did you know that just about every single toy in the known world needs a C battery. Do you know why? Because the big wigs at the toy companies and the big wigs at Energizer decided that they would trick us into thinking that just about everything out there needs a AA battery so we stock up on those. But at Christmas time they get you and sell the cool toys that only take a friggin C so you have to go out and spend another $400 batteries.

Where was I, ah yes, on spoiled. I don’t know if any of my readers (ha) have seen the Disney movie Cars but my son has seen it about four million times. So that means that Mason and I have to feed his desire for the toys that Disney sells to promote this wonderful movie. I truly believe that Mason and I have single handedly kept the Disney Corporation in business. If you go to the NYSE website and look up there stock it says “thank you to Mason and Jenna” directly under the ticker symbol. We are suckers.

But aside from being loud and spoiled that little boy can be as sweet and lovable as a puppy. The best is when you put him to bed at night and give him a little kiss goodnight and he looks up at you with his beautiful blue eyes and asks so sweetly and quietly, “You coming?” How can we say no to that? So we lay down with him and eventually fall asleep and wake up a few ours later all uncomfortable with the cutest little boy curled up beside you. And because we love him so much, it doesn’t matter that his foot is sticking in your ribs and that you can’t feel your arm because all that matters is not trying to wake him up while we are trying to make it to our beds in one piece.

Persistent. He is like a telemarketer that won’t stop. He wears you down until you give in to his every wish. This is how a typical conversation might go:

MJ: “Mommy I want a cookie.”
Me: “It’s dinner time, eat your dinner first and then you can have a cookie”
MJ: “I have a cookie now.”
Me: “No MJ it is time to sit down and eat dinner. You can have a cookie later.”
MJ: (yelling) “I want a cookie!”
Me: “You’re definitely not getting a cookie now. If you scream you’ll get nothing.”
MJ: (crying and jumping) “Pwease, mommy pwease have a cookie now.”
Me: “No.”
MJ: (sweetly and innocently walking upstairs) “Daddy, I have a cookie?”
Mason: “Sure, buddy.”

Do you see what I mean? Persistent; Mommy won’t give me what I want so I will get it from Daddy.

All of these character traits have been present from day one and they make MJ the special unique little person that he is and will grow up to be. If I ever have another kid, I will do everything differently that is for sure. But hell, watching MJ’s antics can definitely be amusing sometimes.

About Me.

My name is Jenna. I am 26 years old and I am a single mother...although I am living with my son's father, I am still considered a single mom because I don't have a ring on my finger. Well here is a little about me. I grew up in a little suburb outside of Philadelphia. Not in Pennsylvania though, New Jersey. My life was highly uneventful all through high school. After my first year of college (PSU) I met Mason (all names are being changed except for my own). We were at a little get together with mutual friends and I had my eye on him. He was loud, obnoxious and a completel jackass. I didn't even need to be introduced, I wanted him. We talked a bit and eventually got together a few times but low and behold, I had to go back to college.

I had my college boyfriend and we were together for 3 years, but during the summers, there was always Mason. He was my one great weakness and I was always a sucker. Failing pathetically to be faithful to my college sweetheart who was madly in love with me, I finally cut that off about six months after graduation. Not wanting to be tied down immediately after a break up I tried my hardest to be alone but like I said, he was my one greatest weakness. I didn't know how to say no. So finally on Christmas Eve of 2002, I said yes. I would be hopelessly faithful to him.

I could never forget that night. It was snowing, a good friend of ours had locked the keys in his car and we had just gotten back from a party. Slightly tipsy and kissing I asked him what he wanted from me. All he answered was, "I want you." And that is what he got....the poor bastard.

Well, less than a month later the condom broke and we thought everything was going to be OK. Man those swimmers were strong and persistent because on September 26, 2003 Mason Jr. was born.

One week early, 7lbs 14oz, and a full head of black hair. He was ours and we were scared shitless. I worked full time selling scratched and dented appliances and Mason was a substitute teacher at the time (as a good friend of ours called him, an academic tampon), we had little money, didn't live together and my parents had the over/under pool going on how long we would last. We struggled to keep it together and had our fare share of fights, but we somehow managed to overcome what no one thought we could.

I took a long time but we finally got real jobs, rented a townhouse, and are living like a real family. No we don't have that special little piece of paper that says 'til death do they part, but who needs to rush into things, right? Maybe someday, but we are new at this living together thing and I will keep you posted.

Well now that you have the background, this blog is about my stories as a mother. I won't be ranting about how Mason pissed me off because he went out with the guys before taking out the trash, this is about my crazy stories, how I have gotten this far, and just the rantings of one crazy mother.