A few weeks ago, I decided to do a little experiment and keep a journal of all the trouble Riley managed to get into in a five-day period (And, yes, I do realize this makes it oh-so-painfully apparant to all of you out there that I do not actually have a life.)
Still, I proudly give you a little somethun' somethun' that I have named Riley's Log O' Trouble.
Day 1:
4:15 p.m. I'm dreaming of long serene white sand beaches and quiet candlelit dinners filled with nothing but some intellectual adult conversation. I'm ripped out of my lovely dream when sticky little fingers start rythmically tapping my forehead. Riley throws a now completely empty bottle of children's Tylenol on my bed, makes the sign for candy, and demands more. My groggy mind does not really comprehend this situation. Riley is supposed to be napping in his bedroom, and the children's Tylenol is supposed to be safely tucked away on the top shelf of the cabinet.
I jolt upright and frantically place a call to poison control. The phone rings, and the Poison Control Man picks up.
PCM: Poison Control. How can I help you?
Me: (Frantically) My little boy just ate an entire bottle of children's Tylenol.
PCM: Okay. How full was the bottle and how long ago did he eat the pills?
Me: Well.. um...hmmmm. I'm not really sure. You see, I was sleeping. I really thought he was sleeping too. So basically, I have no idea.
PCM: Oh, I see. Long pause. A painful, awkward moment of silent judging ensues.
PCM: Can you give me your best guess of how many pills he ate?
Me: It was a small bottle, so probably not more than 15.
PCM: Okay, and how much does he weigh?
Me: Well, ummm, let's see. It's actually been quite a while since we've taken him to the doctor's office and we don't have a scale here, so I'm not really sure. He definitely weighs somewhere between 10 pounds and 50 pounds though.
PCM: Longer pause. More judging. I'm sorry, but you're really going to have to give me a better guess than that.
Me: Okay. Umm, 30 pounds? Does that sound right?
PCM: Hold on just a minute while I do some calculations. Long Pause Again. Acoording to this, if the pills were junior strength and he really does weigh 30 pounds, he can eat up to 75 of the pills before you have to worry about toxicity.
Me: Wow, 75 huh? That's a lot. Good to know. I'll keep it in mind for next time.
PCM:Hopefully there won't be a next time though, right?
Me: Oh, yeah. I didn't mean, well, all I was trying to say is that it's good to know. Now it's my turn to pause. I've got to go now. Thanks for all your help. Bye.
Day Two:
9 a.m. Walk into bathroom. See a razor and large clump of Riley-colored hair sitting on the sink. Apparantly, hubby forgot to put his razor away this morning after shaving. Find Riley. Work on arranging his hair into a perfect combover so that clump of short stumpy hair does not show.
2:30 p.m. Emerge from the shower to find library book ripped to shreds. Drive to library. Write out a $20 check for a book that probably cost $6.
Day Three:
3 p.m. Watch as Riley proudly walks up to me to display his artwork.
Investigate further. Discover that said artwork also extends to my best rug, a throw towell and Riley's dresser.
3:05 p..m. Listen to Riley scream after it becomes apparant that I am not able to remove permanent-marker black streaks from his leg immediately.
Day 4:
Noon. Hear my cell phone ring and become distracted for five seconds from my constant Riley vigil. Look up to discover that Riley has ridden his scooter up the ramp onto the playground equipment and is now hurtling at break-neck speed towards the steepest slide in sight. Breathe a sigh of relief when a large burly man catches him at the last second and prevents Riley from launching himself into the air.
7 p.m.
Walk into my bedroom to discover that Riley has dumped out all the coins in our change jar. He has also found my jewelry and is attempting to make an eye-ring out of my earring.
Day 5:7 a.m. Wake up to a chocolate covered Riley and a chocolate-covered living room. Realize I will have to find a higher spot to hide the Slim Fast powder.
9 a.m. Prevent Riley from eating a bottle of shampoo. Decide to jump in the shower. Realize that Riley watched where I hid the shampoo and is now squirting it all over my rug.
3 p.m. Hear that Riley has woken up from a nap. Open his door to find a open tube of diaper cream that I didn't even realize we had. Greasy creme is in his hair, on his clothes, on his blankets, and carefully rubbed into nearly every square inch of our brand-new carpet.
This concludes this week's portion of Riley's log-o'-trouble. Just so you know, there were multiple other incidents I could have chosen to include, but I am now tired of typing. Luckily, Riley seems to have realized that he was dangerously close to pushing me over the edge and has finally calmed down a bit (in other words, he is now four times more wild than most other children rather than six). And just in case any of you are wondering, let me assure you that we do love Riley and find him to be a usually-delightful source of entertainment and excitement. Really. We do.
So, next time you see me, and I have glazed eyes, a confused look on my face, and am mumbling something about preventing a disaster, you won't have to wonder if I'm going crazy. My friends, it should be obvious that I went crazy a long time ago.
17 comments:
you poooor poooor soul......when will this stage pass? Hang in there cowgirl!
Rachel gets into some good trouble, but really, it doesn't compare...so I can't empathize with you. Except I can give you a pretty good list of when Jake was little (his mom could probably empathize) It must be a boy thing.
He's 2. So is Natalie, I'm there with you!
Oh, and by the way. I tagged you, check my blog.
Lacey,
As I was reading your blog I heard Jeff (rather didn't hear him) being very quiet. I had terrible visuals from your blog pass before my eyes. Thankfully, Jeff isn't as resourceful as Riley yet. Good luck, and remember... you can always disown him. That's what I always think.
Hahaha..my favorite is the Tylenol disaster...also I find it useful to know that a small child can eat up to 75 children't tylenol. Who knew? I would have guessed 20 would be the max. Did he get sleepy after that?
McLacey. So funny.
I'm sorry he's a savage, but as you know, I really don't feel all that bad for you. Because I think it's funny and I don't want to lose the entertainment value for ME, I would prefer that Riley continue to sabotage your normalcy. I predict that karma will hand me a child of such freakishness that Riley looks like a comatose bunny in comparison, just because I laugh at your parenting woes.
Sigh.
PS - visit jetsetcarina.blogspot.com (The Jet Set link on my page) and go to her El Guille label. She has a three-year-old who may actually be a larger terror than Riley. Maybe. It would be good for you to read, help with the discouragement maybe, and she's really funny. Try it.
PSS - I bet lots of mothers call poison control and aren't sure exactly what their kid ate or how much he weighs. I bet the silent-judging-pauses were more about the whole teenage-sounding telephone voice thing. Is that better?
So, if you they can safely consume 75, how in the world are 2 supposed to make them feel better??!
When you are discouraged thinking all is lost, just remember...the teenage years are supposed to be worse.
JK. At least then HE can clean up the messes.
Wow, Lacey. I can't believe Riley does all of that. You are an amazing person to even survive it all!
Whenever Riley gets out of hand, just remember the children's story "It Could Always Be Worse." If you've never read it, check it out at the library (if you dare bring home any more books!) Maybe it will help you feel just a teeny bit better.
Yes, the fact that 75 is still deemed safe blew my mind.
Honestly, I was having a really hard time with Riley during the few-week period I wrote about where he was determined to push my buttons. Then we started trying short timeouts and that really seems to have helped his behavior. I can actually laugh about it now, so that's a good thing, right?
That is too funny! Man i can see that being me in a few years. Br gets into everything. Man little boys.. they are CRAZY!!!
hahaha. gotta love those wonderful boys! =)
I do not envy you. I'm glad you can laugh about it now at least. We call Hannah trouble, but really, it's nothing. I can't complain about them anymore. I can't imagine Kathryn getting into anything. It's amazing how different children are.
Wow! I love it! And can I say that i REALLY TRULY TOTALLY understand!! Covey has the same sneaky deviousness running through his veins. It's always something everyday, usually more. Just today he managed to dump a HUGE globby mess of hand soap all over the carpet. But I do feel blessed to be able to have more laughter in my day- this I see you understand. :)
Diane
This may sound weird and horrible, but I always take a secret delight in seeing (or hearing about) some other little boy who acts just like Riley. So I'm glad you know what I'm going through!
I'm sorry about all that but really, all I could do was laugh the whole time- I think in part due to your talented way of putting things! Sounds like your life is never boring.
OH. MY. GOSH. i read this last night and was too stunned to comment. maybe this is why i started crying yesterday when my husband suggested we ask his parents for a crib for christmas. not happening.
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