Registration Ruination

One of our vehicles is a 21-year-old Ford Tempo. I've had this vehicle since 1998. It's a beater, but it still works great. My man uses it to get back and forth to work everyday. We keep it registered in Alaska. Recently, the registration came due. I got online and renewed the registration. Yesterday, I received the new registration in the mail. I opened the envelope and showed my man the new certificate and sticker.

"Honey, here is the new registration for your car."

"Ok," he said.

Then I set it on the counter so he could put it in the car when he left for work in the morning.

This morning I noticed Max cutting up a piece of paper. I didn't stop him. It was a harmless activity and kept him occupied while I did the dishes. I should have paid closer attention.

Experimenting with Fake Crying

Max bent over without paying attention and smacked his head on the corner of the TV stand. The sharp point left a goose egg on his forehead. He straightened, grabbed his head, and started to cry. In tears, he turned to me for comfort, reaching up so that I would pick him up.

"Oh!" I said. "Poor boy!" I picked him up and kissed his owie and then held him close while he cried.

One-year-old Third observed all of this. He had been standing right next to Max when the accident happened. Turning to face the TV, Third bent forward and deliberately hit his head on the screen. He looked back at me and gave an experimental "Waaah."

When that elicited no response from me, he turned back to the TV and hit his head against it again, a solid thunk on the glass. Then he looked to see if I had noticed and voiced a fake cry once more.

He was so cute that I just laughed at him. Funny baby!

Max's Horrible, Comical Impulses

We are on day three of Spring Break and I have had enough fun. I just want to stay home.

I can't remember if I have explained this before on my blog. Max is impulsive. We have talked and talked his ears off about choices and how he needs to think about the consequences of his actions before he does something. He's only four so I don't know how much of that is sinking in. So far none of it from what I can tell. At the water park, he jumped into the lazy river which was over his head, even though he couldn't swim. When he waded into the wave pool, he didn't stop trying to go deeper, even when the water was covering his mouth and nose. He is now in swimming lessons. Every time I take him to a public place, I lose him because he runs away. When hiking, he has literally walked right off of a log bridge over a rocky creek because he was looking at the sky instead of where he was going. Luckily, he was just bruised and not seriously hurt. I have no idea what goes on in his brain. Our pediatrician has suggested the possibility of ADHD, although we won't get a diagnosis until we can see if his behavior interferes with his ability to sit in school, learn, and do homework. He may just grow out of it. A lot of four-year-olds are wild. I repeatedly ask his preschool teacher how he behaves and I am told he is very good in school. He can also focus quite well on books, so I doubt ADHD is the problem if there is one. I have also noticed that he behaves better when I make sure he gets a nap. However, I am honestly afraid that I will not be able to make sure he makes it to adulthood. Sometimes his impulses are just mind boggling. Sometimes they are so preposterously bad that I have to laugh or I will tear out my own hair.

We didn't have any specific plans for the break. We've just been doing things as we go along. Monday was a nice, sunny day with a cool breeze. My man has been wanting to walk to the new 7-Eleven down the road to get a Slurpee. So we decided we would go as a family.

We reached the gas station and walked around the parking lot to the side of the building where we hovered for a moment while we decided what to do with the bikes and the dog. Max and JayJay got off their bikes and my man and I talked. We decided that he would take the older boys in with him while I stayed with Third and the dog outside. That small delay caused a tremendous amount of trouble.

When my man rounded the corner, he discovered Max standing very close to a large, red button fixed to the front outside wall of the gas station. It was the emergency shut-off button for the gas pumps. He was just dropping the flip-cover over the button. My man grabbed Max.

"Don't touch that!" he said. "Did you push that button?"

"Yep, I already did," Max announced.

My man looked at the button, but it didn't look compressed so he took Max and JayJay into the gas station store, not really thinking much about it.

Deciding that I didn't want to wait outside, I took the bikes, the dog, and the stroller to the rear of the building. I tied the leash to the stroller and bikes, told the dog to stay, picked up the baby, and went into the gas station. We shopped around for a few minutes. I selected a push pop for Third and hot chocolate for me. My man, JayJay, and Max picked Slurpees. Then we got into the line to pay.

As we waited, a customer came in from outside. "Hey, do you realize that no one can get gas out there?"

I'm pretty embarrassed about Max's behavior, but really my man and I win the trophy. We didn't say anything. We glanced at each other. We listened while multiple customers requested gas and were turned away.

"I don't know what's wrong," said the cashier. "Everything is shut down! You'll have to go the the Sinclair down the road."

My man and I glanced at each other again and didn't say anything.

Silently, we paid for our drinks and then we left the gas station to its chaos. I assumed they would figure it out pretty fast that someone had pushed the emergency shut-off button. Max can't have been the first kid to do it, although that gas station is only a few months old so maybe he was at that particular one.

I don't know why I couldn't just open my mouth and say, "Oh, I'm sorry. I think my kid pushed the emergency shut-off switch." It seems pretty simple. But my lips were sealed. I was too scared.

So we high-tailed it out of there and walked to the park with our drinks and let the kids play. While we were sitting there, a police car drove through the parking lot. I was actually afraid that the cop inside was looking for us. Luckily, we were behind a large pine tree. Would there be a fine for the station's lost business?They probably have the entire thing on security camera footage. Too bad we used my man's debit card. I think we'll avoid going there for a while.

I can understand Max's impulse to push that button. It was big and red and he's four. Kids like buttons. Heck, even I like buttons. So I get it.

But he shut down an entire gas station!

As bad as that was, I do not even comprehend his impulsive behavior yesterday.

We decided to take the frontrunner train to the Aerospace Museum. We took my parents and their kids with us. We rode the train and then took a city bus to the closest stop. From the bus stop we walked to the museum and spent a few hours looking at the planes. It was really cool! I got to see an SR-71, an F-16, and an F-15. In high school I wanted to be a fighter pilot and those are my three favorite planes.

We then took the bus back to the train station. We walked onto the platform to wait for the train. Max ran ahead and I watched as he stopped before an elderly blind man who was waiting on the platform. He looked up at the man for a long moment. I had time to contemplate what a beautiful scene it made: the blind man's head slightly bowed with his eyes covered by dark sunglasses and Max before him looking up. I even wished I had a camera so I could capture the image. The juxtaposition of youth and age, sight and darkness really touched me. It was a serene moment.

Then Max hit the blind man. His strike connected with the blind man's cane and knocked it against the old man who startled and clutched at the cane. Max walked calmly around the corner.

"Max!" I gasped. I hurried to the blind man. "I'm so sorry!"

"That's ok," he said.

I walked around the corner and found Max and dragged him by the hand back to the blind man. "Tell him you're sorry," I commanded.

Max whimpered and reached for me. I picked him up.

"It's ok," said the blind man again.

But it wasn't ok. I had to teach my son that he couldn't treat people that way. "Tell him you're sorry," I said again.

"I'm scared," whimpered Max.

"YOU WEREN'T TOO SCARED TO HIT HIM!!! TELL HIM YOU'RE SORRY!!!"

"Sorry," Max said finally.

"That's ok," said the blind man. "You're a good boy." He really was a saint and a gentleman.

"This one is my handful," I explained, desperately trying to make things better. "He four and..." I struggled to find a valid excuse for his behavior. I couldn't. "He's crazy."

"My own grandson will probably be like that soon. He's one and a half."

"I'm so sorry," I said again. I walked away, mortified, still holding Max, in shock. Only much later could I appreciate the humor in the situation. His act was so preposterously bad that I have to laugh in disbelief.

After he shut down an entire gas station and slugged an elderly blind man, I just don't know if I can handle anymore of this Spring Break. Today we are definitely staying home.

I really hope someone else can find these situations funny. Otherwise, I just feel deeply embarrassed and guilty for laughing about them later.

Kids Inherit Weird Things

Max was upstairs one morning when he called down to me in an innocent, sweet voice, "Mom, do I have school today?"

"Yes, you do," I said, assuming he would be excited.

But then a rage-filled scream blasted down the stairs, "But I'm still TIRED!"

Then I listened as he stomped into the bathroom, peed, punched and kicked JayJay (who was in there brushing his teeth), stomped back to his room, slammed the door, and went back to bed.

Poor kid has inherited my...distaste...for mornings.

Booger Blues

Third had just finished lunch and I was wiping him off with a damp washcloth. He was recovering from a cold and in the process of cleaning him, I wiped a large green booger out of his nose. I folded the washcloth in half and then in half again to cover the booger and continued cleaning him up. When he was squeaky clean, I released him from his high chair and sent him off the play. Then I took the washcloth to the counter and got a tissue. I wanted to get the booger off the washcloth so that it wouldn't end up in my laundry.

The booger was gone.

I checked both sides of the washcloth and couldn't find it. So I decided that it was have gotten wiped back onto my baby somehow. I caught him and looked him over, checking his face and hands for the booger. No booger. Odd. But I assumed that it had dissolved on the washcloth because of the moisture.

Some time later I felt a slight tickling itch on my face. I reached with my left hand to scratch it and felt something sticky and slightly squishy. It stuck to my hand as I pulled it away.

THE BOOGER!!!!

I have no idea how it transferred from the washcloth to me. I squealed and frantically washed my hands and face. The squeamish feeling didn't leave for a long time and even though I had thoroughly washed, I kept trying to rub the feeling of the booger off my face. It was pretty horrible and only became funny later.