Childproofing

Following our bloody incident the other day (see previous post)...we are re-childproofing our kitchen.

I started the process about an hour and a half ago, armed with a brand-new box of plastic childproof latches, a hammer, measuring tape, a bunch of screws, and a screwdriver.

I was optimistic...buoyed by the hope that we would finally be able to thwart our little Houdini before she slices off another finger or downs any more uncooked lentils.

I quit the entire blasted affair about five minutes ago, sweating wet, throwing the tools down in disgust and humiliation.

The result of my efforts...a single blasted plastic latch installed backwards in a spot that makes it impossible for the second part of the latch (the one attached to the drawer) to close.

WHY THE %&%?$!!!  DOES IT TAKE A FREAKING ENGINEERING DEGREE AND THREE FREAKING HOURS TO INSTALL A SINGLE FREAKING CHILDPROOF LATCH ON A SINGLE FREAKING DRAWER?????

Etienne has kindly taken over.  

He, too, is swearing.

But he is smarter and less of a quitter than his wife.

In fact, as I write this, he has just completed the latch.

AND THE $%$?#&!!! THING WORKS.

So, Addie, our dear little maggot...your parents might be battered and bruised in their efforts to protect you...

BUT YOU ARE NOT. OPENING. THAT. DRAWER.

Guilt, part 11,987

My constant flirtation with maternal guilt is no secret.  I feel guilty for pretty much everything I do or don't do as a parent. 

 

So that's what made tonight exceptionally awful for me.

And it was all my fault.

I was supposed to be watching Adele, who was wandering around the kitchen.  Etienne was busy in another room and all I had to do was keep an eye on her for a few minutes.  But I had drunk a bucket of coffee this afternoon...and I have a bladder the size of a walnut.  SO...I figured a 30 second (literally) dash to the bathroom (just around the corner from the kitchen, leaving the door open, returning to the kitchen immediately to wash my hands) would be safe.

I am such a freaking moron.

I was in there maybe ten seconds, when Addie started crying and spun around the corner...her hand and mouth smeared with blood.

I picked my heart up off the floor, jammed it back into my chest, and started searching for the source of the blood.  Initially, I figured it was her mouth so while she wailed, I checked inside. Nothing.

Finally, I figured out that the blood was dripping from a tiny little prick on her tiny little finger.

What happened was this: the childproof lock on the utensils drawer broke a couple of weeks back.   Now, we pretty much hover over Adele because she is the reincarnation of Evil Knievel...the kid is "energetic" (READ: TASMANIAN DEVIL).  So we kind of put off fixing the lock. 

The drawer holds serving spoons and a wide variety of utensils for peeling and preparing.  No knives or anything like that...nothing sharp...we figured it was totally safe.  However, Addie managed to find the one utensil that was not TOTALLY safe. 

It's a cute little red vegetable peeler, made just like a carrot peeler only with serrated edges.  I'm not sure exactly what it's meant to peel...tomatoes?  Zucchini?  

At any rate, it peels fingertips verrrry neatly.

Poor Addie.  I held her in my arms while Etienne gently washed her little finger.  Then he applied her first-ever Band-Aid.  The wound was teeny tiny...and I mean MINISCULE...but we just felt AWFUL for her.  

We put her in her highchair and like a mad dog, she immediately tried to gnaw the Band-Aid off her finger.

She finally calmed down when we served her dinner...leftover crepes stuffed with ricotta cheese, asparagus, and smoked ham, lovingly prepared by her Grandmama.  Who wouldn't stop crying for that?  Addie ate like a trucker and all was well.

Well...except for me, with a little black hole of guilt in my heart...for an injury that was very minor but still drew blood.  

I know every parent takes their eyes off their children momentarily...and I know it's impossible to watch the little whirlwinds every second of every day.

But still.

For a parent who already wrestles with guilt, this was like being pinned to the mat and smacked down hard. 

Poor little troll.

Fixing the damned drawer right away.  

My guilty conscience will take longer.

Randomness

1.  Back after a week away and settling into the routine once again.  Trolls went off to respective holding cells with relative ease, and I did the groceries-laundry-etc etc etc (my last Thanksgiving-related day off work).  Having friends over for dinner tomorrow night, which calls for a few exceptional measures.  Vacuuming, for one.  I also baked cookies and only ate three.  A heroic effort, if I do say so myself.

2.  Realized today that we forgot one thing when we went away for a week.  And it was something that one DOES NOT want to forget.   Some background:  we use cloth diapers.  When they get dirty and are waiting to be washed, they go into a diaper pail.  Generally, we do a load every couple of days but last week, the morning we left fell on an odd day and...well...we forgot five dirty diapers in the pail.  FOR A WEEK.  I opened the lid this morning and I swear, a mushroom cloud billowed out and stripped the top layer of skin off my face with a blinding flash of light.  It was like the freaking APOCALYPSE.  I streaked to the laundry room holding the pail as far from my nose as possible...and then wrung every last drop out of the bleach bottle in an effort to clean the fluorescent, bubbling, goopy mess.  In the end, the diapers came out snowy white but OH THE HORROR.

3.  It's Friday night so Eva picked a movie...this week it was "Sleeping Beauty".  During the opening credits, she said, "This happened in the 14th century".  Indeed.  Why is it that my five-year-old can remember datelines of ancient Disney movies she has only seen once before, but she can't remember to LEAVE HER SISTER ALONE, even when I repeat that phrase every ten seconds of her life???

4.  Washed three of Etienne's good shirts.  The really good, expensive ones he wears for work.  The ones that aren't supposed to be WASHED, but rather lovingly dry-cleaned by fairies who use golden sparkly wands that tinkle as they wave magic cleaning dust over the shirts.  The shirts now fit Barbie dolls.  I am such an IDIOT.

5.  Slow-cooking a giant chunk of beef with star anise gravy tomorrow for guests.  Also having rosemary-roasted autumn vegetables and lots of WINE! WINE! WINE!  I know you're jealous.

Um...unless you're vegetarian.

      

Class with a Capital "K"

Tonight I went with the girls to the home of a good friend and her husband, to spend the afternoon and have dinner.

Now, they see the girls maybe once a year...so I tend to hope my children will behave relatively well when we visit.

And they did, until the middle of our lovely dinner, when Eva got up to go to the washroom.

All was quiet for a few minutes, and then suddenly she hollered down the hall:

"MAMA! I HAVE A GREAT BIG SKID!!!"


(audible, defeated little sigh)

Not nearly enough swear words...

...to describe THIS.

THIS happened around 4 this afternoon. It started as sleet and then morphed into big, fat, fluffy wet flakes that STUCK (the bastards).

I talked with Etienne on the phone and he said he wore SHORTS today, back home in the east.
SHORTS.

Eva is delighted.
Of course, she's not the one who has to stuff a toddler into a snowsuit all winter long.

It begins.

(insert heavy sigh here)

Had an amazing Thanksgiving dinner, thanks to my beautiful mum.
Being here with her and my dad - even for this short visit - is a gift.

I am lucky.

And I am thankful.

These poor people

1. We are home. It feels good. Saw my mum and dad and all is right with the world.

2. The girls were great on the plane - easier than I expected. We ate nearly everything I packed for lunch plus some Timatin (or whatever they're called) morning fatfest sandwiches. Good stuff. Addie slept about an hour and a half between Toronto and here...WAY TO GO, KID! And Eva drew and drew and drew and Kung Fu Pandaed.

3. Amazing arriving at the airport here and seeing two dear friends waiting with my dad to pick us up. I hadn't expected them. These are women I've known since I was just a single digit old. They are intelligent, strong, and beautiful...it made my heart sing to see them. So grateful to know them.

4. Eva was shocked to find out that my parents have more than one car.

Me: "That's because they don't have a subway here".

Eva: "NO SUBWAY??? HOW RUDE, those people who built this city. They didn't even think to put in a SUBWAY???"

Stops to pump a fistful of Froot Loops into her mouth.

Eva, with all the sympathy a five-year-old can muster: "These POOR PEOPLE. They don't even have a SUBWAY".

Sorry

To my faithful readers (hi, Mom!) I just want to say sorry...I've been nutso busy.

Two great friends from back home were kind enough to drop from the skies for a visit...and I spent so much time having fun that I haven't written anything.

And now I, too, am heading home...back to the golden wheatfields of my youth...although now that I think about it, I'm guessing harvest is over and it's all just a mass of baked brown fields.  I always picture fall as idyllic but now that I think about it, Saskatchewan autumns are basically one month of standing in a wind tunnel, followed by a giant dump of snow.  

At any rate, thrilled to head home with my girlies to see my family for Thanksgiving.  

The only thing I'm not looking forward to is the flight...between my own terror and having to control Adele, it's going to be a rough ride.   Anyone want to bet on how many times she'll streak down the aisle with her thumb in her mouth, grumbling about the food?  Or arch her back with an audible snap and enough force to bend steel, to escape my evil clutches during takeoff and landing?    

At least Eva's an old pro at this travel thing.  She'll draw, play with Polly Pockets, and giddily snack her way across three states and four provinces.

Will update asap...think low turbulence and gentle landing thoughts for me.