A Bloody Mess

So the other day Max and I were playing and he said something to the effect of "Don't get my nose!" which, as every mother knows is the tell-tale sign that he wanted me to do just that. Okay fun, an I'm-gonna-get-your nose game. No problem. Well, in the midst of wrestling around on the couch Max gives off a rather non-chalant "ouch" and runs away laughing. He turns around to head back for more and that's when I see it...blood streaming from his nose, all over his face and clothes. Not wanting to panic him, I pick him up and say "oops, we need to clean up your nose a bit" and take him into the bathroom where, of course, there's a huge mirror and he catches sight of the gushing redness. He actually remained quite composed, although he did cry and kept saying, 'make it stop!' After I got him (and myself) all cleaned up I sat him on my lap and said, "I want to ask you a question. I feel SO bad about making your nose bleed. I'm SO sorry. Do you forgive me?" He looked at me puzzled and in a very tentative voice said, "God?" I asked him what he meant and he tried to explain that he was answering my question. I realized that he was associating the concept of forgiveness with God. Goooooood. Then he said, "God hurt my nose and made it all red." Baaaaaaad. I tried explaining that no, God would never do such a thing, that God loves him very much, that it was mommy who accidentally hurt him, all of which only served to cause uncontrollable sobbing. "What's wrong?" I asked, starting to panic that the situation was getting very muddled and confusing for the poor kid. In between sobs I got "question" and "wrong answer" then "I can't do anything." At this point I'm pretty much resigned to the fact that this moment is definitely headed for my Top 10 Worst Mom Moments as I've now bloodied my child's nose, made him think God did it and then walked all over his self-worth by making him think he incorrectly answered my question. I give a mop-up response that attempts to put things right and then pause and finally say, "Hey--how would you like to go out for ice cream?" Problem solved.

Why God Why?

So this weekend Mark and I left the boys at my parents so that we could head over to Bremerton & catch the Death Cab show. It was Gus' first time away from me overnight, but I wasn't too worried about him. It was Max who I was really concerned for. When I left he was clinging to my leg screaming "Don't go! I want to go with you! No Mommy!" Not an easy exit. I checked in about 10 minutes later & he was watching Curious George and had forgotten all about his moment of abandonment. When bedtime rolled around, however, it became quite clear that he had not forgiven me for leaving. When my mom asked him if there was anything he wanted to ask God for during prayers he said, "Ask Him why my mommy left me." OUCH.

My morning

Max: I just went pee-pee
Me: What do you mean?
Max: I just went pee-pee on the couch.
Me: What? Why?? You know how to use the potty. Why on earth would you pee on the couch?
Max: I wanted to see if my pee-pee could touch the ceiling.
Me: .........

No time for love

Max: What's that? (pointing to my wedding ring)
Me: That's my wedding ring. It means that daddy and I are married. Daddy gave it to me as a symbol that he loves me very much.
Max: Oh.
Me: Someday you'll meet a pretty girl and you'll give her a wedding ring.
Max: Um...I'm not sure 'bout that. I think I'm just gonna get a clock. You know, with numbers...that I can wear on my arm.
Me: Oh, you mean a watch?
Max: Yeah, a watch. I'm just gonna get one of those.
Me: You don't want to have a wedding ring someday and a wife who loves you?
Max: Nooo! I just want a watch, okay?
Me: Okay, but I think someday you might change your mind.
Max: Um no. I just need a watch.

A thousand words will have to suffice...

I haven't updated in awhile because I don't have any photos to put up. Why, you ask? Well, a few days before Valentine's Day I made some heart-shaped sugar cookies for our family to decorate. I was so pleased with the results that I set them out on the dining table so I could photograph them. As I went to shoot a picture I dropped the camera, causing it to hit the edge of our table and fall to the floor. Yes, I broke it. For all the times I've scolded Max for playing with it, turns out I'm the one who shouldn't be allowed to touch it. The good news is that Canon is fixing it for free (I have no idea why but I'm not complaining) The bad news is it's getting fixed in Illinois. I'm borrowing a camera from my sister-in-law, but I don't have the adapter thing to put the pictures onto my computer, so for now you'll have to make do with no pictures, just words.

Here's a recent conversation:

I'm rocking Gus in the rocking chair in his nursery, trying to get him to sleep. In saunters Max, blowing air out of his mouth.
Me: What are you doing, Max?
Max: I'm having a smoke.
Me: You're what?
Max: I'm having a smoke. Watch. (he blows more air)
Me: Um...where did you learn that?
Max: From daddy.
Me: WHAT?
Max: Daddy goes outside and has a smoke.
Me: WHAT?
Max: You know, when it's cold.
Me: Gottcha (I'm relieved to realize he's talking about seeing his breath when it's cold outside, but I make a mental note to rename that activity before our interview with Max's potential preschool. I can see it perfectly..."So Max, what do you like to do at home?" asks the nice preschool teacher. "I like to go have a smoke outside with Daddy," answers Max. Nice.)