Looking for a New Plumber and a New Place to Play

First off, I have to apologize to Emily. This is my third post this week. And also my third post about something unsavory Emily has done. I hate to do it, but this has been an unusually rough week. And blogging helps to take the sting out.

Remember how much I said I love the Children's Garden? Well, that was the scene of our great disgrace today and I'm afraid I can never go back. Double sting.

It all started when Jane and Emily were both playing in the "Secret Garden" area, a super cute little area about the size of  my bedroom walled off from the rest of the garden. You enter it through this charming wooden door. (Note: I am using stock photos today). Well, Emily got sick of the Secret Garden. Then Jane got sick of it. We exited. Emily re-entered. "Fine", I said to myself, "if Jane wants to wander, she can wander for a few minutes. Emily is safe in a walled in garden and I will know if she comes out".

Jane wandered for five minutes, tops. I returned to the Secret Garden to check on Emily. She wasn't there. I checked the area with the little tables. She wasn't there. I checked the sandbox. She wasn't there. I was starting to panic. I ran to the windmill area almost in tears. I spotted a friend and made a beeline for her, praying that she had seen Emily. Before I made it there, I was intercepted. By a many tattooed woman in a tube top. And Emily.

I grabbed Emily, trying to hold back the tears. "Thank goodness! I was so worried about you!" (I was still too worried to be mad). And then, to the tattooed woman, "Thank you so much for finding her. I was searching all over". What happened next I was not expecting.

Miss Tattoo began to scream at me. "Did you know she was naked and almost drownded (sic) in the wading pool?! I realize you have another kid, but you are a bad mom. You need to watch both of your children. If you can't do it, you need to find someone who can. I had to pull her out of the wading pool and put her clothes on! I saw you chatting by the bathroom while she was naked. I can't believe you just let her do things like this. I've got four kids and I would never let this happen".

Let me add a few caveats at this point: 1) I was absolutely not chatting by the bathroom. I hadn't even exchanged one word with anyone the entire time I was there, nor had I been by the outdoor bathroom. 2) I was searching frantically for Emily, not screwing around and, 3) She was most definitely not almost "drownded" because her hair wasn't even wet. Also the wading pool is only about 8'' deep. 4) I had absolute faith that Emily was in the Secret Garden, nowhere near the wading pool. 5)You may draw your own conclusions about the paternity of her four children. I won't say anything about it here. That would exhibit a lack of class.

This is the wading pool. It is a small, very shallow man made pond intended for children to wade in. 

I told Miss Tattoo that I realized she really wanted to yell at me but I was doing the best I could and I thanked her again for putting Emily's clothes back on. Really, I was that calm. I am not exaggerating. Then I went to find Emily's shoes.I wanted to dissolve into the ground after being so embarrassed, but we couldn't just leave the shoes. I tried to sneak past my new friend to get the shoes. That seemed to make Miss Tattoo even angrier so she began to spout again, "You need to leave here because you are making a scene and there are children present!".

 Here I was, a grown woman, in the middle of a crowded garden, trying not to cry and looking for shoes. And then I really was making a scene. The shoes were located and I left as quickly as I could. When I got to the parking lot, I realized Chris had just arrived to meet us for lunch. Then I really started bawling. I managed to get out a bit of the story. "Tube top?", Chris said. "Uh huh". "That woman over there?", he asked, pointing. "Uh huh".

Then he went over to have a conversation with her. He didn't want to leave until she apologized to me. I have never loved him more. Unfortunately, you can take the girl out of the trailer park, but you can't take the trailer park out of the girl. And we all know there are sorts that can be reasoned with and sorts that can't. Miss Tattoo belongs to the latter group. May God bless Chris for trying, though. The apology never happened.

Miss Tattoo got into a Marv's Plumbing truck and drove away. Yes, folks, that's MARV'S PLUMBING. You know, Marv's Plumbing on Logan? (Apparently they not only fix plumbing there, but also wear wear extremely tight tube tops and scream at women who are frantically searching for lost children).

I don't know whether I am more embarrassed that Emily was naked in the wading pool or that I got a down home white trash style tongue lashing in the middle of my favorite place in town. Both make me want to die. Why, Emily why? Why do you do it? Is this a stage? Can I channel this endless energy into something positive or does it only work for destructive activities? Please leave your suggestions as I am obviously a terrible mother. Also, please leave your recommendation for your favorite plumber. Unless it is Marv's. We won't be using their services anymore.

The Emily's New Clothes

What is it about new clothing? Is Emily the only kid who feels that a brand new shirt or pair of pants is merely a blank canvas for her to express herself? Whatever the reason, it seems as if the most dangerous time for clothing is the first wearing.

Emily got some lovely new shorts from her grandparents last weekend. Yesterday was a nice hot day and the perfect time to try out said new shorts. It also seemed to be the perfect time to discover a forgotten wet erase marker and destroy the shorts.

I threw everything I had at that stain: Spot Shot, rubbing alcohol, nail polish remover, carpet cleaner, bleach, bleach and more bleach. It wasn't budging. I even tried yelling and screaming. That didn't work either and it just made me feel worse.

Time for a band-aid.

No, it doesn't match perfectly, but it makes them once again wearable. Next time Emily ruins something (that will most likely be later today) I am going to try to tell myself, "It's probably not so bad that it can't be fixed. And even if it is, it's not worth yelling". If I say it enough times, maybe it will stick.

Or perhaps I will just be one of those women who are under the impression that I somehow gained complete mastery over my anger right about the time my children left home. Then I will tell all the young mothers that the little things aren't worth getting angry over and they will miss these days. But part of me will always remember that yelling and motherhood are as inseparable as Emily and destruction.

Why No One was Hungry for Dinner

I'm still not sure what happened last night. I don't think I ever will be. The facts, as seen through my eyes are these:

I was fixing dinner. Emily said she was starving. I gave her some fruit snacks to get her out of my hair (I don't normally give her snacks before dinner, but it was either that or make the family eat cold cereal for dinner - she wasn't about to leave me alone.) Emily sees a bird outside. She goes outside after it.  I am happy for the break. I keep an eye on her out the window. She yells back, "Mom! I'm trying to feed the bird fruit snacks!". Okay, whatever. Every time she gets within five feet of the bird she runs away screaming. I am unconcerned. 

More running. More screaming. And then, "Mom! Come quick! The bird is dead!". And there, by our porch, this is what I saw:

And so two great mysteries begin. 1) How did it die and, 2) Did Emily touch it?

She assured me time and time again that she never touched it either before or after it took the great voyage into the beyond. She had lots to say about how it died.

1) It got sick and fell down, down, down from the sky.

2) It flew into the porch/house/chair/playhouse.

3) I hit it with June. (June is a doll. Please oh please don't let this be true).

4) I did NOT hit it with June. It died from hopping.

5) I don't know.

6) It is not dead. It is napping.

Obviously absent from this list is the possibility that the bird choked on a fruit snack. We will never know how the bird died, but I am reasonably certain that if Emily took part in its demise it was unintentional. I am also reasonably certain that she didn't touch it. Or maybe I'm just lying to myself because I can't deal with the alternative.

Sick of Sick

I haven't blogged in awhile. There's a good reason for that. We have been sick. Then sicker. Then a little better. Then sick again. Followed by really sick. And now (knock on wood) we are finally getting less sick. I hope it will stay that way. Rather than take you through the saga of colds, assorted infections and the accompanying antibiotics that have been our lives lately, I think I will blog about the good things that happened between the sicknesses.

First, I got to go to Denver for the day all by myself. I never thought I would want to just be alone for a day, but it really is wonderful to not have to worry about who has to pee and who is sick of shopping and who doesn't like the apple slices you ordered instead of french fries. A day out of town with kids sucks. A day out of town alone is glorious.

That weekend we also had the first smores of the season. Always an occasion for celebration.


And then... sick, sick and more sick. Skip to this past week.

We love the Children's Garden. It is, perhaps my kids' favorite place on the planet. I'm pretty sure I could take up permanent residence in the Children's Garden.

I suspect there must be some kind of magnetic or geothermal anomaly at the Children's Garden because my kids throw 98% less fits per minute within its walls then without.

On the other hand, I was totally sure that taking Emily to the dentist for the first time would result in a huge fit. That's why I put it off til she was 4. It turns out that not only did I have nothing to worry about, she said she LOVED it. Really? Yes. I am not lying.

Hurrah for dentists who cater to kids! Hurrah for the Children's Garden. Hurrah for antibiotics and hurrah for the priesthood blessing that finally helped Jane start to be Jane again!