i embarrass myself sometimes, not feeling so supermom, stuff best described as not safe for parents, unqualified parenting tips

Truett and the Crazy Elevator

I really don’t like to do the putting people in a box thing but let’s just say that if I absolutely had to do it with the kids, I’d put Truett in a box labelled “Not Likely to Get Stuck in Sticky Situations” while Kirsten would end up straight in the “Look, A Sticky Situation – LET’S GO THERE!” box.

I’m speaking metaphorically of course, but now that I think about it, it might not be such a bad idea to put them in a real box like this when they’re being difficult.

Relax, I’m not going to call it the Box of SHAME. I’ll christen it with a cute name like Time-Out Corner and paint pretty little pink flowers on it. I’m considerate that way.

So back to my story – there are these elevators at my block that are mental and I suspect, a little evil. The button that’s supposed to keep the door open works sporadically at best, meaning that the door shuts anytime it damn well pleases. I’ve been attacked by the crazy doors on numerous occasions and one time, the door shut right after Tru stepped in even though I was pressing the button to keep it open.

Good thing it decided to open again after a few seconds but those few seconds must have been an eternity for him because after that incident, Tru is extremely cautious when it comes to elevators.

Kirsten, on the other hand, does not care about getting lost or injured or trapped in confined spaces. She’s 10 times more likely to disappear into a drain while walking (true story – she’s like 1 of 5 people in the world who managed to graze her armpits) or run into a wall.

A couple of days ago, we were on the way back when Kirsten suddenly decided to dash into the lift. I was several steps behind and I was about to run after her when out of nowhere came a flying ninja tackle from Truett. It all happened very quickly and next thing I knew, they were both on the ground with Tru grabbing her in a stranglehold inches away from the evil elevator door.

Kirsten was obviously upset at being tackled but it was nowhere near as upset as Tru was. He was furious at me for letting her run unsupervised and upset at his sister for being so reckless. “You don’t ever do that again, you understand?”, he yelled at her.

Then he turned to me and said sternly, “Mommy you carry her now. You must take care of mei mei better and don’t let her get lost.”

Yes, sir. 

Comic Relief

Back to the future

Remember the wooden train set we got for the kids from Florida? We’ve been wanting to get a train table for the kids but like most things, we never got around to doing it so it got archived for a while because it was such a pain to pack.

I finally managed to find a table from Ikea that fits and I’ll be working on it for the next couple of days. The plan is to line the table with a white sheet and draw some trees and grass and other stuff to make a backdrop, then glue down all the tracks to it. I’ll see how that turns out and improvise along the way.

For now, we’re having some fun with it first.

It’s the year 625 AD and a contingent of the King’s army find themselves transported to the future.

Meanwhile in the blue camp…

If this was a fairy tale, I’d tell you that they eventually find that they like it in the future, become friends and live happily every after.

But it’s not and in real life, this is what happens.

The end.

a spot of singapore, precious moments, the breast things in life are free

Life’s a beach

There are few things in life that are more therapeutic than to feel the soft sand between your toes as the gentle waves sweep across your ankles.

Maybe except watching your kids do it and seeing that hesitant smile turn into a grin of delight.

Or maybe perching them on a tree on a lazy afternoon and resist the urge to sing “Truett and Kirsten sitting on a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N…” because it’s wrong on so many levels. Ok, I won’t even go there.

Or maybe building a sand dune together because it doesn’t feel as upsetting when they stomp on it for the 27th time in one afternoon. Stomp away, kids, I did not spend 30 minutes attempting to make a castle with my bare hands.

Or maybe watching my girl spontaneously break into an interpretive dance when a group of boys behind started playing Gym Class Heroes’ Stereo Hearts.

Or just sitting back with the husband, thinking that it really doesn’t have to take a lot for life to be pretty darn awesome.