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Sam's Story: Week 142 October 16, 2006
Why do I even keep sponges around? They're like little time bombs of bacteria thanks to the way we diligently moisten them and then cram them into some small, warm drawer for days on end so that they can breed new forms of life. The other night Sam cheerfully smeared some cheese spread on the carpet, so I retrieved one of these microbe magnets from the kitchen to wipe up the stain. Sam saw what I was doing and insisted on trying it out for herself, so I gave her the sponge and let her go to town. It WAS her mess, after all. Of course, I look away for like one second and then turn back to her to find that she'd crammed half the thing in her mouth and was sitting there with the other half jutting out of her smiling face like a diseased yellow tongue. Worse, she was actually sucking on it.
I, of course, shrieked like a little girl and snatched the thing out of her mouth. But sure enough like an hour later her nostrils are leaking and she's hacking like a cat with a particularly distasteful hairball. These things worked fast. So for the last few days Sam has had a nose made red and sore by all the running and blowing. This has in turn put her in a perpetually bad mood and caused exchanges like this:
"I want raspberry drink, Daddy."
"Okay, let me get your cup out of--"
"NOOOO! I WANT RASPBERRY DRINK! NOW!!! AAAAAAAHHHHHHH-HAH-HAH-HAH!"
Apparently she wanted me to lunge over to the fridge, yank out the pitcher, and pour it down her throat, but that would have caused a stain on the carpet and alas irony is lost on most two-year olds.
Here, at least, are some pictures of her in better moods:
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There's several shots of Sam at another pumpkin patch which I got to attend this time (hooray, weekends). I've often worried about becoming one of those "baby people" that look forward to doing things like the pumpkin patch and enjoying life by using their kids as a proxy, but I gotta tell you: it doesn't bother me now. I have a blast just by soaking up the excess joy she radiates when riding a tractor or getting a new toy that fires bits of molded plastic into the air at dangerous velocities. I couldn't imagine life without it now.
But I guess it cuts both ways. This shot was particularly nerve wracking, but as they say, sometimes you gotta just let your children go and watch them scale a massive mountain of hay bails. Amazingly, though, Sam went right to it without any hesitation or fear. I just stood at the base, cringing and making a mental note about what still scares Sam (bugs, loud noises) and what does not (heights, sponges).
There's also this snapshot where Sam learns to use chopsticks, mainly to stab sugar packets wail on the table like a Tommy Lee having an epileptic fit. Sam's routine in restaurants, Chinese or otherwise, is actually pretty established. She knows the drill, such that we get exchanges like this:
"Hi, folks, my name is Chad and I'll be taking care of you tonight. Can I start you off with--"
"I want macaroni! And cheese! And lemonade! Please!"
I then apologize to the waiter, explaining that she pretty much treats us the same way and that he should totally read my blog.
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File under:
Parenting ,
Samantha
Tags: Illness, Pumpkin, Sam's Story, Samantha
Comments
Posted by Kassia on October 16, 2006 10:40 AM:
Hello-
I just wanted to let you know that my husband and I have been reading your blog (and enjoying it) for a bit now. We have a daughter the same age, and often feel as if you are a fly on our wall (are you?), describing the fickle whims of our little one. Thanks for taking the time to write it all down. You blog gives us a humorous slant on what can sometimes be an exhausting and demanding day!
-Kassia
Posted by Jamie on October 16, 2006 1:21 PM:
Thanks for the compliments, Kassia. Glad you're enjoying the blog. I also like to read about other parents and kids about our ages. There's something comforting knowing that people face the same issues.
Posted by bethany on October 18, 2006 10:29 PM:
Jamie, in the photo of Sam in the black t-shirt with the candy-corn heart on it, she really looks like you! (My daughter has that same t-shirt, incidentally.)