Crunch time


Ahhh, there is so much to write about, but I am distracted.  While I really want to tell you how I have been challenged by my book 7: an experimental mutiny against excess that is going to have to wait.  Right now I am in survival mode and am actually at the gym taking advantage of my free two hours of childcare a day.  I plan on taking a 10 o’clock class, but don’t tell, I actually dropped Tatum off at 9:15.  I am planning ahead.  I can’t assume she will take a nap today, so I figured if I wanted to be guaranteed a little break, come sit on the cozy couches of the gym (I’m not being sarcastic, it really is quite cozy!)  Call me cruel, call me crazy, but I would beg to differ.  If I didn’t put her in childcare for this extra 45 min. then I am pretty sure I would be both cruel and crazy.  Tatum earned the nickname Crunch last summer when my niece Nautica came to stay with us.  I don’t really remember Piper or Nautica’s names they came up with, but Crunch has stuck for Tatum the past 15 months.  It seems inappropriate to call your little girl Tank, but Crunch is acceptable in my mind.

Yesterday morning I took a class at the gym at 5:45 am.  I got ready in the dark and showed up wearing 2 different shoes.  The lady next to me said, “Well, I hope this isn’t any indication of how the rest of your day is going to go”.  If only my morning had started at 5, but in fact the shoe incident was just another example about how my day had already started.  Miss Crunch decided that she didn’t want to sleep.  She was up from 11-2 while we were in and out of sleep.  At 1:22 Brian woke up because he saw a light on and thought she was playing in the play room.  When he got up he found her naked in the bathroom playing in the sink with the water.  Really?  What else is there to say?

This was Monday night/Tuesday morning.  Things weren’t much better over the weekend.  On Sunday evening I left Tatum with my grandma for 5 min. while I ran down to the beach to deliver a message to my mom.  She lives about 5 houses away from the sand, but there is a one-way street between her place and the beach.  I picked up Piper from the beach, walked back with her when this man ran by and said, “is that your little girl over there?”  Standing naked at the end of the alley was Tatum holding her owl.  My grandma thought I took her with me.  Scary, but nothing surprises me.

I have a dog who runs into the street to get to the dogs at the park, and two year old with an endless supply of tricks up her sleeve.  They say cats have 9 lives, but I am pretty sure dogs must have at least twice that because Frankie has escaped death more than I can count.  I have come to realize that birthday parties aren’t for kids, they are celebrations for parents who are rejoicing in the fact that they have managed to keep their child alive another year.  Hooray!  You better believe Tatum is going to celebrate in a big way when she turns 3.  Right now we are just praying that if cats have 9 lives, and dogs 18, that she has an abundance of extra lives up her sleeve, because we have rescued her from falling in pools, falling off the dock into the bay, running into streets, falling off of the counter, and being pushed off of the fort.  Those are just the ones I can come up with off the top of my head.  We’ve only been to the emergency room once, I guess that’s pretty good.

I guess this is what I get for being the parent who drops my kid off in childcare at the gym and doesn’t go work out.  They found me.  Tatum had an accident, I ran to the car, got a pull-up and cleaned her up.  She was clean but only wearing a pull-up and a sweater.  My class was about to start by this time and I asked, “is she okay staying in here?”  To which they replied “yes”.  Tatum, however, was not okay with the idea.  She just saw Mom and now Mom was leaving her…again.  But I didn’t take my class yet!  So I left her crying and ran to go work out.  Two songs.  That’s it!  I made it through two songs before they found me AGAIN!  Now she threw up.  I know I sound like the worst mom in the world, but seriously.  I promise she wasn’t sick.  She knows how to make herself throw up when she is upset.  I don’t feel guilty about putting her in childcare, but I guess it was a sign that I was just supposed to hang out with the little rascal.  I said, “Well, Tatum do you want to go get our toes painted?”  And so we did.  And as kids around the world were laying their little heads down for a nap at 1 o’clock, Tatum did not join them.  My father-in-law delivered us a crib yesterday and put it together for us after Monday night’s fiasco.  We had the mattress on the ground since she was still able to climb out of the lowest setting.  It worked, for one night.  At nap time today, she practiced her gymnastic maneuvers and opened the door and said, “I’m awake, Mommy.  I’m awake.”  So tonight we have added an enclosure.  Sometimes desperate times call for desperate measures.  We call it her fort.  Let’s hope the novelty of sleeping in a fort lasts til Kindergarten.  I share these things with you so that the handful of moms out there who would do such a thing like drop their kid off to go on the computer and lock their kids in a baby jail don’t feel alone!  And also for the rest of you out there who can pat yourselves on the back and say, “well, at least I’ve never done that!”  You’re welcome.  That’s what I’m here for.

Oh and while I’m at it, let me just tell you that I ate it on my bike yesterday riding Piper to school with her.  Awesome.  Fifth day of school, cars stopped because we just crossed at the crosswalk and my foot gets caught in Piper’s spoke.  I got to be the mom who walked up to the class with a fat lip from hitting the handle bars and wet grass stuck to my legs.  

Tatum’s fort


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