Well guess what? I am that parent. Get used to it.
***Story 1***
A few weeks back we went to my hometown for the weekend. We also went to church with my parents. Now it's no secret that my parents' church service is *ahem* a tad bit longer than the church we attend at home, but I figured with enough crayons, books, snacks, and juice, Ian would be able to make it through the entire service.
I was wrong.
I guess when you turn 2 years old you get a better grasp on the concept of time, because at the time we would be getting out of church at home, Ian looked up and realized that this service was only a little more than halfway done.
Always a man of action, Ian decided he would take the initiative to bring the service to a close by yelling (and I do mean yelling) "DONE! ALL DONE!"
As the eyes of those nearby began to look my way, I quickly covered Ian's mouth, whispered in his ear long enough so the people close to us would think I was the type of parent that knew how to keep her kid in check (ha!), and then slowly uncovered his mouth. I guess whatever I said worked, although he did feel the need to belt out one final "DONE!" before he finally quieted down.
***Story 2***
That same weekend while at my parents house, I briefly saw an Ian shaped blur run past me and into the living room. The smell that followed said blur however, was uh -how shall I say this- not so fresh.
Me: (shouting from the guest room) Ian, did you poo poo?
Ian: (shouting back) No
Me: (getting up and walking into the living room giving my very best stern Momma face) Ian, did you poo poo?
Ian: (wide eyed) Nooooo
Me: (checking the foul smelling diaper) Ian you did poo poo. You didn't tell me the truth. If I ask you "Did you poo poo?" and you did, you need to answer yes. Do you understand?
Ian: Yes
Me: (giving myself an imaginary pat on the back for successfully explaining truthfulness to my obviously brilliant kid) So, Ian, did you poo poo?
Ian: No
I was wrong.
I guess when you turn 2 years old you get a better grasp on the concept of time, because at the time we would be getting out of church at home, Ian looked up and realized that this service was only a little more than halfway done.
Always a man of action, Ian decided he would take the initiative to bring the service to a close by yelling (and I do mean yelling) "DONE! ALL DONE!"
As the eyes of those nearby began to look my way, I quickly covered Ian's mouth, whispered in his ear long enough so the people close to us would think I was the type of parent that knew how to keep her kid in check (ha!), and then slowly uncovered his mouth. I guess whatever I said worked, although he did feel the need to belt out one final "DONE!" before he finally quieted down.
***Story 2***
DISCLAIMER: This story will make use of the word "poo poo"
Me: (shouting from the guest room) Ian, did you poo poo?
Ian: (shouting back) No
Me: (getting up and walking into the living room giving my very best stern Momma face) Ian, did you poo poo?
Ian: (wide eyed) Nooooo
Me: (checking the foul smelling diaper) Ian you did poo poo. You didn't tell me the truth. If I ask you "Did you poo poo?" and you did, you need to answer yes. Do you understand?
Ian: Yes
Me: (giving myself an imaginary pat on the back for successfully explaining truthfulness to my obviously brilliant kid) So, Ian, did you poo poo?
Ian: No
***Story 3***
It's Monday morning and I hear Ian babbling to himself in bed. I head into his room to get him up and going.
"Good morning Pooh. Are you ready to get up?" Ian, stands up in his crib obviously mulling over the question, then he grabs his favorite blanket, squats back down in the bed, and replies "No".
Fair enough, I think to myself. I like to stay in the bed late on Monday mornings too. I turn my back to the kiddo to begin looking through his dresser for clothes for the day, when I realize the shirt I'm looking for is in the closet. When I turn back around I see that Ian has changed his mind and is ready to get out of bed. In fact, he's thrown his leg over the top bar of the crib and is attempting to climb out. Caught off guard, the only reaction I can muster is a sigh combined with an "Oh Lord". While I was content to let him hit the floor and learn his lesson, Ian looked down, and then realized, apparently, this wasn't the brightest idea. He then looked back up at me and replied "Oh Lord".
"Good morning Pooh. Are you ready to get up?" Ian, stands up in his crib obviously mulling over the question, then he grabs his favorite blanket, squats back down in the bed, and replies "No".
Fair enough, I think to myself. I like to stay in the bed late on Monday mornings too. I turn my back to the kiddo to begin looking through his dresser for clothes for the day, when I realize the shirt I'm looking for is in the closet. When I turn back around I see that Ian has changed his mind and is ready to get out of bed. In fact, he's thrown his leg over the top bar of the crib and is attempting to climb out. Caught off guard, the only reaction I can muster is a sigh combined with an "Oh Lord". While I was content to let him hit the floor and learn his lesson, Ian looked down, and then realized, apparently, this wasn't the brightest idea. He then looked back up at me and replied "Oh Lord".
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