Sorry for the long title, but after reading the crap I just spewed on the screen I could think of no other way to describe this. Almost like watching the video of Steve Irwin dying, I am going to leave the post as is, you know, for posterity.
Do you ever watch those History Channel shows like Mega Disasters or Monster Quest? You know, the ones where crazy smart scientists search for mythical creatures, or try and predict what will happen if a super massive black hole swallows the Earth, or if a tidal wave were to somehow ravage the entire East Coast? No? Well, I am a nerd, so I do. Actually, my interest in the shows isn't really because I am a nerd- I really don't understand half of what they are talking about, especially if it involves numbers or science of any kind- it is more because I lack the emotional stability to watch most television programming.
Aside from sports, game shows and the occasional tolerable reality TV show I am really only capable of watching half-hour or hour long comedies. Most of the time movies are too much of a whirl wind for me, and TV dramas are either too emotional or way, way too unrealistic to sit through. The one exception to this has always been House, but I have abandoned that show lately, too. There are only so many obscure diseases that you can cure in 56 minutes. Seriously, it has gotten to the point where I am watching and someone on the show comes up with a great idea and I'm like "Wow, that sounds like a plausible explanation for the victim's symptoms, but it is only 8:37, it must be wrong."
I am not sure what those last two rambling paragraphs really have to do with anything, but the baby has pretty much launched her own show over the last two days that I have started calling "Disaster Quest." Yeah, that's where I was going with it. Give me a break, they can't all be winners.
Basically over the past 48 hours Av has decided that she is going to try and do everything in her power to either get hurt, break something expensive or make herself retarded. It started yesterday afternoon with a daring attempt to scale an end table and chase a cat on to a window sill and has continued through this morning where I have thwarted multiple attempts to access and eat kitty litter.
The problem is that she is extremely mobile and constantly chasing those damn cats around when we are home, which always leads to trouble. Combine that with an uncanny knack for determining exactly what I don't want her to do and she has become more than a hand full for me. Far and away the biggest disaster so far occurred yesterday afternoon.
We had just finished lunch and I had lifted her out of the high chair so that she could run around and play. I tossed some Blue's Cues on the TV and started to pick up around the house a little bit, paying attention to her but not playing with her. A few minutes later she decided to pick up an unopened can of Coke from a half-empty 12 pack sitting on the kitchen floor. This is not uncommon, she likes to play with the bottles of things waiting to go in to the fridge, but usually aluminum cans are passed over because they are kind of heavy and they hurt her teeth. I watched her pick up the can and walk in to the living room. Before I could turn off the sink I heard a crash followed by some laughing. What I found when I turned the corner was an absolute mess. Somehow she managed to drop (or throw) the can so that the tab on the top hit the end of the coffee table causing the can to open slightly and spray soda all over the living room. Of course, Av then picked up the can (still laughing) and turned it upside down, spilling the rest of the soda on to the table, and the trouble didn't end there.
As I was frantically trying to move the computer and remote controls from the path of the sticky liquid I noticed that she had decided to stick her finger in the top of the can. Now, obviously I couldn't reach over and grab it because I would risk cutting off the end of her finger, so I had to toss the electronics on to the couch and slowly remove the can, sparking a fit.
Once I got the can confiscated and the baby away from the mess I distracted her with some toys so that I could get started on the clean up. I grabbed some paper towels, all purpose cleaner and Murphy's Oil Soap for the hard wood floors and the wood table. The next 15 minutes were spent fending her off while I tried to soak the soda up from the carpet and clean off the table top. During this time she made it her goal to poison herself and become retarded. First, she attempted to get down on her knees and drink the cleaner that I had sprayed on the floor. When I put an end to that she grabbed the bottle of Murphy's and tried to chew on the cap. Eventually, I was able to get the mess cleaned up, but not without breaking an intense sweat trying to keep her away from everything. I am sure there is a more efficient way to handle that situation, but I am still a rookie and I couldn't tell you what that was.
Unfortunately for me, her Disaster Quest did not end there. Later in the evening I was given the task of putting together a small play kitchen Monica had found at the Family Dollar. Although the process was fairly smooth, the baby was able to escape Monica's grasp a few times and head right for the scissors, the screw driver and a pile of jagged plastic that I had to cut the pieces for the kitchen out of.
I woke up this morning wondering exactly what I was in for today, but luckily it has been fairly quiet. Except for when she ran behind the kids on the swings at the park, nearly getting punted across the playground, and when she tried to jump off of the bed and chase the cats- mild in comparison to yesterday. Then again, it is only 12:15, so I have at least another three hours of prevention ahead of me before Monica gets home.
I am not one to talk highly about my accomplishments, but I consider myself to be a person of at least average intelligence- even if I am too emotionally weak to watch fictional television programs and I can't cook dinner without burning a pan- so my question is, how do these dumb moms who don't pay attention to their kids keep them from destroying their homes, getting hurt and causing permanent damage to themselves and others? It has taken all that I have over the past two days to prevent this. I am tired, physically spent, and I don't even get paid for this job!
To be honest, I feel like the Coke incident has triggered some sort of short circuit in my brain. Since the disaster took place I have experienced a vast string of emotion that has caused me to, among other things, freak out at the post office about the mail man (again), develop homicidal thoughts toward American Idol's Adam Lambert and yell at a man with a dog for not using a cross walk. At the same time, I have been content enough to go to the supermarket in my slippers, smile and chat with moms and old women at the park and display unrivaled patience with my misbehaved child even as she hit me in the face with a banana peel today. I even had three dreams last night that I couldn't decipher from reality- so much so that I checked my sent text messages this morning to see if one of them was real.
As I mentally prepare to return to school next month (I wouldn't really call a 6-week course 'school' per say, maybe we'll call it training). As I mentally prepare to undergo 'training' next month the past 48-hours has caused me to seriously question my ability to once again function in the real world. If spending all day with a 1-year-old drains me physically and emotionally imagine what I will be like back in the office culture. I am going to run the risk of being described in some IT guy or accountant's blog as 'that anti-social weirdo from HR.' Then again, I do manage to communicate fairly well with hundreds of complete morons on a nightly basis working at the bar, the mail man does suck and my kid isn't retarded despite the adversity I have been thrown, so maybe I am prepared after all. I guess we are all just going to have to find out.
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