Say What?

Occasionally, I feel like I need a translator when my children talk to me. It's as if I am a foreigner in their fantasy land of made up words. Today, for example, as my daughter was sharing a story about one of her classmates, who happened to miss school, she explained that "she was 'apusent'".

"Absent?" I asked.

"Yeah, 'apusent'," she replied, implying that that was exactly what she had just said.

Yeah...right, of course. Sometimes the mispronounced words can be downright confusing. At other times, they are just plain amusing, especially in instances when words are misapplied.

Every night, for example, when Aloni says her prayers, she addresses God as her "heavenly Fodder". I can't help but smile and wonder if God finds it equally amusing that she refers to Him as a divine bale of hay on a regular basis.

I think my absolute favorite faux pas is when she affectionately refers to Anthony as her baby "bwudder". He has been her baby bwudder since before he was born, and I hope he will be her baby bwudder for the rest of her life.

Do You Know Where Your Children Are?

Bing search: hide and seek

 Have you ever seen that commercial that asks: "It's 10:00 pm. Do you know where your children are?"

Well, even before I had children, whenever I saw that commercial, I always wondered to myself, "What kind of parent doesn't know where their children are...I mean seriously, if you don't know where your children are, well, you shouldn't have kids!" And then, after I had children, I became even more self-righteous. Every time I would hear the commercial, I would  smile smugly and think to myself, "Of course I do...What kind of mother doesn't know where her children are!" Well, I eventually learned what kind of parent doesn't know where their children are...really, really, really sleep deprived parents...like myself.

This brings me to the time I "misplaced" my son. I casually mentioned the incident in my recent post about new mommies and the culture shock they experience upon entering motherwomanhood, and it stirred up a bit of curiosity.  Before I get into the story, I just want to clarify that no children were harmed in the making of this story! Honestly! And technically, because my son never left the premises, he wasn't truly lost...at least he knew where he was. It was more like playing hide-and-seek, only I didn't know I was it. OK, so here's the story:

It happened about two years ago when my son was a few months old. I was sound asleep one night when my husband woke me up and asked me where the baby was. I wasn't really awake, so I mumbled something about checking his crib.

"But I was just there...he's not in there."

Nothing was registering in my sleep-deprived brain just yet. All I could think about was getting back to sleep. I mean, how many times does my husband ask where something is when it's right in front of him! We've all been guilty of it, but my husband should be charged and fined for all the times he's been guilty of it. I think it should be punishable by law. But, I digress. Back to the story...

I motioned to the empty space in front of me.

"Well, obviously, he's not here," I stated sharply.

Now my husband looked at me very nervously, realizing that months of sleepless nights had finally gotten to me.

"OK, honey...I need you to think. When was the last time you remember being with the baby?"

"Uh... I was nursing him in bed...but then I put him right back in the crib when he finished. Or at least I think that's what happened..."

"I can't remember..."

He stared at me in disbelief. There was no time to try and bring me to my senses. My husband started frantically patting down the bed in search of our little MIA. He whipped off the covers when he finally found a bump underneath, and there he was, snuggled in a ball in the middle of the bed, sound asleep. Apparently, I only dreamed I put my son back in the crib, and somehow, he had wiggled his way down under the covers.

My husband was just appalled.

"How could you forget where you put him?" he asked, horrified.

I was still in a coma, and couldn't process what had just happened. In a very sleepy voice, I replied,

"Oh, you found him...(yawn)that's great...could you put him back in his crib...yeah, that would be great...(snore)."

I was fast asleep. It wasn't until the next day, when my husband told me what happened that the reality of the situation finally hit me. Chills ran down my spine. How could I forget where I had put him??? From that day on, my husband finally conceded to helping out with the night shift and letting me get some more sleep. And from that day forward, I could confidently say, I know where my children are! Most of the time...there was that other occasion when...