Everybody Poops: Part 2

Last Thursday and Friday were parent/teacher conferences at Ava’s school. This means the school closes at 4pm on both days. Since Mike was on jury duty I was on pickup duty. Thursday afternoon I show up to her school at 3:55. I walk in the class and Ava is in the restroom. So I wait…all the other parents are waiting too. And I wait some more. Finally I ask her teacher, is she going #2? The teacher says she is and that she’s been in there awhile. Shortly after that I hear some giggles coming from the bathroom. I should note that there are 2 toilets in restroom but no individual stalls. The giggles were cause for concern. I peek in the restroom and see Ava and Myoko washing their hands and laughing hysterically. So…..

Me: What’s so funny girls?
Ava: We were playing with my poop! (giggles uncontrollably from both girls)
Me: Huh? What do you mean you were playing with your poop?
Ava: It was floating in the potty so we picked it up and it broke in half. (more uncontrollable giggles)
Me: Ava, please tell me you aren’t serious!!!! Please tell me you’re joking. What did you do???? (frantically)
Ava: I took half of it and she took half of it and we squished it between our fingers! (more uncontrollable giggles)
Me: Oh my God. Oh my God! OH MY GOD!

I grab her teacher and tell her what happened as all the other parents look on. They are kind of laughing. I’m just really grossed out. We scrub both girls hands, change their shirts (just in case), pour some more hand sanitizer on their hands…wash them again. I’m mortified at this point. This is just awesome. I’m sure the other parents will forever describe me as the mom of the kid who plays with her own shit. I really wish this story ended there.

So we’re walking out the door and Ava is still laughing so hard. I’m telling her it’s not funny…that playing with poop is gross. And then…the bomb:  

Ava: And then we ate it Mom! (fit of giggles)
Me: YOU WHAT?????? Please tell me you’re lying!!!!!
Ava: What’s lying?
Me: AVA….DID YOU REALLY EAT YOUR POOP???? (shocked I’m even asking this question)
Ava: Yes!!!!
Me: OMG…OMG….OMG…what do I do? OMG.

So I call the one person who will find this hilarious…Auntie Heather. And I’m right…now she’s on the phone in a fit of giggles. I tell her, “SHE ATE HER POOP!!! Is that even safe? Should I take her to the ER?” Ava’s in the backseat hysterically laughing…Heather is on the other end of the phone hysterically laughing….then I’m hysterically laughing. Heather says, “Ask her what it tasted like.” At first I’m like, “Huh…why would I do that?” And then it hits me…duh…because she’s probably lying.

Me: Ava, what did your poop taste like (I cannot believe I have asked my child this question)
Ava: It tasted like chocolate!

Whew! She finally admitted that she didn’t eat it. But man…I was dying you guys. What the hell? Has anyone else’s kid ever purposely played with their own poop? I’m a little mortified.

Tomorrow I will give you the story of how pickup went on Friday. My child…I just don’t know about that kid sometimes.

Saturday was a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day!

It started out fine. Mike was working in San Diego and Ava and I got up to get ready for Mimis ballet recital. Ava was SOOOOO excited to see her best friend on stage. I suggested we stop and get Mimis flowers and Ava thought that was a great idea. She picked out red roses and was adamant about them being red. I asked her if she wanted flowers for herself and she picked out red gerbera daisies. I thought I had my bases covered with getting her some too. BOY WAS I WRONG!!!!

So the recital was wonderful and I was very proud of Mimis and how great she did. For a little girl who was very shy out of the gates, she really did awesome up there on that stage! Ava did great watching her and sitting still for an hour and half while everyone performed. Then came time to give Mimis her roses…

Ava has a meltdown of epic proportions. She starts crying and keeps saying she wants the roses and wants to give Mimis the daisies. And I told her no…she had already told Mimis she was giving her the roses before the show so that’s what she had to give her. Ava got so upset…hiccup crying, snot running down her face and that high-pitched squeal kids get when they aren’t getting their way. I tried to calm her down. I offered to get her roses later. Nothing was working.

We were supposed to go to lunch with the whole group and I told Casie, I didn’t think we were going to make it. I couldn’t get her to calm down and thought it best if I take her home at this point. I have never seen Ava act this way. We breezed through the terrible 2’s. So I was so thrown off by it. I get her in the car and she is still screaming. I start driving and she starts kicking the back of the seat and squealing again. So I slam my hand down on the center console and yell, “ENOUGH!” Hmmm…well…things went from bad to worse at this point. She sobbing and in between sobs this is what she says, “You’re. (sob) You’re. (sob, sob) A. (sob) Mon (sob, sob) MONSTER!!!”

I’m not lying when I say she broke my heart. For. Real. I started sobbing. Like hiccup crying, snot running down my face sobbing. And I know she’s 3 and I know she doesn’t mean it. I know she’s mad but you guys…that hurt. I know hitting the center console in the car isn’t one of my finer moments as a parent but man…I was just maxed out.

We get home and I put her in her room…she’s still screaming bloody murder. I tell her she can come out when she’s ready to talk about how she’s behaving. She screamed for twenty minutes before she finally comes out. What does she do? She looks at me and starts crying and says, “I want my roses.”

Oh Lord! I try talking to her but she can’t talk…she’s too upset and she’s being completely bratty. So I send her back to her room. She screams for another 20 minutes and comes out calm. I think, “Great…we’re on the right track.” She tells me, “I’m ready to go to lunch now.” I explain to her we can’t go to lunch because of how she behaved earlier. I explain that I asked her to calm down earlier and told her if she didn’t, we wouldn’t be able to go to lunch. So now, we can’t go to lunch…lunch is over. Meltdown: Take 457!

She starts screaming at me, “I WANT FRENCH FRIES!!!! I WANT TO GO TO LUNCH NOW!!! YOU TAKE ME TO LUNCH RIGHT NOW!!!” I said, “Well, I’m sorry but we can’t go to lunch. I can make you lunch here but we aren’t going out for lunch.” She picks up an ink pen and throws it and hits me right in the face!” Then she looks at me like, “Now what are you gonna do???” As soon as I got up off the couch, she took off running like “Oh crap…I’ve really done it now!” I told her what she did was wrong, why it was wrong, swatted her on her bottom and sent her to her room where she screamed for another twenty minutes. She comes out of her room and says, “I don’t want to talk about the roses anymore.” We made up and she was awesome the rest of the day.

That was one of my most trying times as a parent. She didn’t just push my buttons, she found my buttons and jumped up and down on them. She did a crazy lady dance on them! I really don’t know how I’m going to handle the teenage years…when she actually means it when she calls me a monster. Sometimes I wish there was a manual to parenting but there so isn’t and it’s hard sometimes to know how to handle a situation. This was so out of character for her and I was caught so off-guard by the way she acted. I felt like some bratty 3-year-old had taken over my sweet little girl and IT SUCKED!

I Can’t Make This Up

So I’m sitting in my boss’s office and I keep hearing my line ring. So when I’m done I check the caller ID and it’s Mike. So I call him back and here’s the conversation:

Me: Hey babe…what’s up
Mike: Your daughter was playing with shit!
Me: What?
Mike: So we were at the park and I was looking at Facebook while Ava was playing in the sandbox.
Me: Okay.
Mike: I hear Ava say, “This is stinky sand.” And I see that she’s playing with wet sand.
Me: OMG…it wasn’t wet sand.
Mike: NO! It was shit! She was playing with shit!
Me: Hers?
Mike: No…I don’t know whose it was. So I run over there and she’s touching her hair, touching her shirt. I’m yelling, “Don’t touch anything!!!! ”
Me: OMG…GROSS!!!!
Mike: Yeah…no shit. I wasn’t sure what it was so I leaned over to smell her hands.
Me: (laughing my butt off) That sucks!!!
Mike: (gags) Yeah…it was disgusting!!!!
Me: So is it smeared all over her?
Mike: No. I took her to the bathroom and washed her off but she still smells. I’ve got her stripped down in the car and we’re driving home.
Me: That’s awesome!!!
Mike: I’m giving her a bath when I get home.

And these are the moments where I’m SOOOOOO glad I wasn’t with them. I’m still laughing. It’s so disgusting!!!!

Me Talk Pretty One Day

One of the funniest things I’m dealing with right now is Ava and her use of words or phrases. She hears us say things or gets them from the tv or other people and then tries to string stuff together but it doesn’t come out quite right sometimes.

Here’s a convesation from this morning:

Ava: Mom, I have to ask you a question.
Me: What?
Ava: Don’t remember I’m wearing brown pants.
Me: That’s not a question.
Ava: Ok.

Mother’s Day night our bedroom door flies open, she comes running (I’m using running loosely here as I don’t think her feet were touching the ground) into our room, screaming. I slap Mike because in my sleep haze, I’m sure there’s a group of monsters coming in right behind her. She jumps in our bed and here’s the conversation:

Me: Baby, what’s wrong?
Ava: (hiccup, sob) Lucy is going to ruin EVERYTHING!!!! (Lucy is our cat)
Me: Ava, what are you talking about?
Ava: Lucy is going to ruin EVERYTHING!!!!
Me: What is she going to ruin?
Ava: She’s going to tear up your flowers and scratch our pictures.
Me: Ava, are you dreaming?
Ava: Yes. Don’t leave me.

So the next morning we are in the car and I’m relaying this story to my mom. And what do I hear from the backseat:

Ava: Mom, I’m going to ruin everything and tear the house apart!!!
Me: Why?
Ava: Because you’re bossy.
Me: Well, that’s not very nice.
Ava: Well, I’m cranky.

She wasn’t cranky at all, she just wanted to use the word. The conversations I have with her now crack me up. She’s all about imagination and making stuff up. It makes for interesting conversation…

Stuff It!

You know how I know I’m a grown up? Because I got off work early today…a Friday…and I was so excited because it meant I could come home and get a head start on cleaning. I’m not joking…I’ll wait for you to stop feeling sorry for me and thinking I’m pathetic. I’m not!

I did 4 loads of laundry, cleaned our room and tried cleaning Ava’s room. What is it about kids that makes them want to play with EVERYTHING you are dusting around in their room? It’s like this little radar they have and it starts beeping and this little voice in their head says, “Oh crap, mom’s cleaning my room…I must touch all of my toys JUST in case she gets the crazy idea to start donating stuff to Goodwill.” It’s like she’s saying to me, “Look mom, I play with all this crap!”

And I’m pretty notorious for getting a little crazy on the donating and tossing stuff when I get in the “My house is full of crap” mode! Ava’s got all these little pieces of little things to other little things I don’t even know if we even still have. I finish our room and it’s looking spotless and I’ve moved on to Ava’s room. You think I would know better and check on my little princess to make sure she’s not destroying my glistening room.

Well, I spent like 20 minutes arranging her stuffed animals on her table and moved on to folding blankets, putting clothes away…you know…cleaning. And I turn around and the table that had all of the stuffed animals I had just arranged was now empty. In my head I just want to scream. But I know she isn’t trying to make my life difficult…she’s just being 3. So I go off to find her and what I found was my sweet baby girl and 20 of her “closest” friends having a tea party in our king size bed. It was really very sweet. Another mess to clean up, but sweet.

But I must warn all of you I WILL NOT bring home another stuffed animal!!! She has like 50 and they are taking over my life and her room. You know how some people are afraid of clowns or porcelain dolls? I’m afraid of neither, nor am I afraid of stuffed animals. However, if anyone buys her another stuffed animal, it’s staying at THEIR house. That’s right…you can start a personal stuffed animal collection at your house for Ava!

Worst. Night’s. Sleep. EVER.

I really don’t know what was up with Ava last night. I fell asleep at 10, well, at least I think it was 10. There’s no real way of knowing what time you fall asleep I guess. Anyway at 10:30 she starts crying. I do that thing where I pretend like I don’t hear her to see if Mike will get up and go check on her. (Honey, if you’re reading this I really don’t do that but it’s funny and people like to laugh.) He apparently was doing the same thing, so I ended up going in and covering her up and she went back to sleep. Somewhere around midnight our bedroom door swings open and she goes to Mike’s side of the bed and is all, “How am I….who’s going to help me…I need to get in your bed.” So Mike puts her in the bed and I forgot to do the body pillow trick I learned. It’s where I take my body pillow and build a barricade between me and her and she ends up attacking Mike all night. She was ALL OVER ME…ALL NIGHT!!!! I swear at one point I woke up thinking, “How can a little girl who is 3 1/2 feet tall make me feel like I’m drowning and suffocating all at one time?” She had her head on top of my face, one leg wrapped around my waist and both arms around my neck. I swear I felt like an koala bear carrying her young. I pry her off of me and push her towards Mike’s side of the bed and I might have whispered, “Daddy misses you” in her ear to give her that extra push. I put the body pillow barricade up and somehow I wake up this morning and she’s on top of me again!!!! I swear…it’s magnetic forces. It can’t be explained any other way. No 3-year-old is that clingy in her sleep, right?

Blog Name Change

Mike calls me this morning and says, “Babe, you should change the name of the blog to Life With Ava at Starbucks” Why would he say this, you ask? Well, Ava provides alot of material for this blog during our trips to Starbucks.

I’m not sure if everyone knows who Weeman is, so I’ll just say that he was on Jackass and here’s his picture:

He’s a really nice guy and frequents the same Starbucks I do. One day I heard him in there talking about how he was opening this taco shop: Wee-man’s Chronic Tacos. We decided to try it out on Sunday, took Ava and got her a quesadilla. Anyway, this morning Ava and I are in Starbucks and we’re walking out and he’s coming across the parking lot. I KNOW my child and I’m thinking, please don’t say anything about his size…please wait until we’re in the car. Of course she’s staring him down and she’s got this curious look on her face. He walks past us and she turns around and is watching him walk into Starbucks. This is what happens next:

Ava: Mom, did you see that little boy?
Me: Ava, he’s not a little boy. He’s a little person, but he is a man, not a boy. Remember where we had a quesadilla on Sunday…that was his restaurant.
Ava: Mom, he is a little person but he has a big, fat butt!

You guys, I almost died. I don’t think he heard her…I really don’t but I felt horrible. And I tried to explain to her that we don’t use the word fat, just like we don’t use the word ugly. I was really embarrassed and I wish I could censor her on things but I’ve realized that every time something like this happens, it’s my opportunity to teach her better.

A Typical Evening

So I sit down at the computer to sync my iPhone and download some new music. The tv is blaring Wonder Pets, Mike’s on the couch and Ava is standing over by him. I think, “I’m going to check my blog…see if there are any new comments from my dad or my two other friends who actually read this blog.” P.S. I love you three for reading it! When I get famous I’ll kick down some free stuff. 🙂

I get to my blog address and see that I have a new comment from someone who I don’t actually know. I read her blog but I don’t actually know her. I’m stoked…really stoked. This is what happens next:

Janice says: Babe…someone is reading my blog! Someone I don’t know is ACTUALLY reading my blog and commented!!!

Mike says: AVA! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?

Janice says: Mike!!! Did you hear me??? This is serious!!!! Someone I don’t know is reading my blog!!!

Mike says: AVA!!! YOU DON’T WIPE BOOGERS ON ME!!! THAT’S DISGUSTING!!!

Ava collapses in a fit of giggles.

Once again the little booger steals my thunder! As I’m re-reading this for typos, I cannot believe I actually said, “This is serious.” Ha! But I do get excited to know that people read it.

On another note, I did the Irvine Lake Mud Run this weekend with a group of friends. There was a team there and the back of their shirts said, “What were we thinking?” After hitting that first mud pit, I thought of them. While it was the most fun run I’ve ever had, it was also the most uncomfortable. There are certain places where mud does not belong.

I swear…some people don’t get my sense of humor. At one of the obstacles some random guy kind of kicked mud on me and I turned around and said, “I’m sorry…could you try not to get mud on me? I really don’t want to get dirty.” He apologized! Poor guy…I had to explain I was joking…we were doing a MUD run, right?

The most fun part of the whole race was at the end…there was this HUGE mudpit. My three friends and I linked arms and jumped in. It was so awesome! Immediately I jumped on Sergio because he looked a little too clean. Then he and I turned and he says to me, “Casie and Sandra look a little too clean.” I yell, “Let’s get em!!!!!” It was so cool to just let go. In a world where I’m trying to clean everything, be everywhere on time and be everything to everyone, it was so liberating to just not care for that moment in time. Not care how dirty I got, not care that my shoes were going to be ruined, not care that there was going to be mud in places in doesn’t belong…to just have fun. Next year the Mudslingers are coming back bigger and better. My mission is to get my dad out there! Come on pops…you’re still young!!!! And if you can’t finish, don’t worry, the mud will make it easier to drag your butt across the finish line!

And on a sappy, I love my booger-wiping daughter kind of note, this was the first race she’s ever come out to watch. We take her on training runs with us, but usually Mike is running on race day too, so she doesn’t really understand when we tell her we’re going to race what we’re actually doing. This time Mike didn’t run and I came down the hill at the end and I see her beautiful, little face on Mike’s shoulders and her arms are in the air and she’s cheering for me!!! That was the best feeling…I’ve had alot of supporters come out and cheer for me and it’s the best to see familiar faces, but her there, was PRICELESS!!! I ran over to kiss her and she leaned back and said, “Mom…you’re all dirty!” Yes, honey, yes I am!

Let’s Get Clean

So last night I get home from work and Ava has a big, fat busted lip. This is from yanking a drum by the strap and it knocking her in the mouth. I’m sitting there playing with her hair and it’s all sticky. I ask Mike, “What’s in her hair?” He says, “Blood.”

Awesome…it’s SOOOO time to take a bath. We get downstairs and she’s really into racing right now so I’m playing around and I’m saying, “I’m going to beat you into the bath.” And then she says, “Mom…I want you to take a bath with me.” I really don’t want to…our bathtub is small and she’s 3 and I don’t like answering questions about anatomy so I try to avoid this. She starts crying and telling me she really wants me to take a bath…fat, bloody, busted lip pushed out and I’m a sucker. I tell her I’ll take a bath with her. She’s so excited…she’s giggling, clapping her hands. It’s gonna be great!!! I get her undressed, put her in the tub and she stands there and pees!!!!

I look at her and I say, “AVA!!! Did you just pee in the bath????” More giggles from her and the demand to “hurry up and get in the tub mama!” So the question I’m sure you’re all asking is, “Did I get in?” The answer: A mother’s love knows no boundaries.

Someone once said…

Someone once said, “Write down everything…because you’ll forget all the funny stuff she does and you’re going to want to remember it.”

So some random things I’ve found funny recently…

Ava’s favorite show right now is Dora The Explorer…I am so Dora’d out at this point but the kid loves it so what am I going to do. I’m subjected to hours upon hours of this little girl who is constantly on expeditions. Does anyone else wonder where her parents are when she’s on these expeditions? Okay…started rambling. So I really love listening to Ava use her spanish words and have learned a few myself. The other day we’re driving in the car and she dropped something and she starts screaming “Ayuda me mama! Ayuda me!!!” I’m in the front seat, “What are you saying Ava?” Apparently it ayuda me translates to help me. Good stuff!

Also, she knows all of her colors in Spanish. I’m very proud of this. Although there’s one color she doesn’t pronounce quite right…but that’s okay because her mispronounciation is better than the real deal. Want to know how she says red? In Spanish it’s supposed to be pronounced “rojo” but Ava’s version…it’s wronghole. Yep…you read it right. WRONGHOLE!

Ava finally figured out Mike and I were married. I agree with what you’re thinking…it took her long enough. This led to a major meltdown of epic proportions. She’s sobbing. I ask her, “Ava, what’s wrong?” Her reply, “I want to be married.” A few seconds and one wedding later Mr. and Mrs. Mickey Mouse were in a much better mood. The wedding was videotaped of course. Wouldn’t want her first wedding to go undocumented.

A few weeks back we’re getting in the car and she tries to get in the drivers seat. I tell her I have to drive and she has to go in the back. A meltdown ensues…I’m thinking it’s because she just doesn’t want to be in the back seat….WRONG! She’s upset because and I quote, “I want to be 16 like you so I can drive.” That’s right folks…I had her at 13.

She wakes up the other morning and she tells me she had a dream about her family. I was curious who she considered family. So I asked who was in her dream. Well…there was Daddy, me, Mickey, all of her stuffed animals and her pacifier. It’s nice to know that her parents fall into the same category as her pacifier. That pacifier only costs $3 but it’s just as important to her as her parents apparently.

One morning we’re at Starbucks and this guy walks in. He’s good-looking, mid-thirties I would say. He gets in line behind us. Ava starts getting all giggly and hiding behind my legs waving at him. Totally flirting. I’m used to her doing this sort of thing so I didn’t really pay much attention. He said hi to her. I get my coffee and she has a seat at the table. I walk up to the milk/sugar bar, yes…that’s what it’s call in my world, and I start making my coffee delicious and the guy is waiting for his drink. All of the sudden I hear my daughter say, “HEY! Do you want to see how strong I am?” I get this confused look on my face, turn around and she’s holding my wallet high above her head, with both hands! She’s looking at the guy and she’s got this look on her face like, “You’re impressed, huh? Yep…I knew you would be.” I swear if she could wink she would have winked at him. He played along and boy was she was a happy little girl that morning.