Sunday, October 3, 2010

The Sh*t My Kids Fight About

First of all, my sincere apologies to all my readers (even if there are only like 3 of you). I've been very very bad about updating this blog. In fact it would be accurate to say that I've been down right neglectful. Sorry if I have caused anyone with abandonment issue grief. I did not leave you. I do intend to still write.

My excuse is that time is hard to come by since going back to work. And when I do find myself with some time, I usually spend it doing something incredibly thrilling like doing laundry, doing dishes, or swiftering my kitchen floor for the upteenth time. (And, yes, "swiftering" is now a verb- although I'm not sure if it has made it into the dictionary yet).

You see, I was not living in reality this past summer. Between the months of June and August, I was a stay-at-home mom that got paid. But at the end of August, I faced the truth. I actually have to work for this money. It doesn't just fall from the sky into my bank account. Sucks, I know. So here I am, frantic once again, trying to do everything I did when I stayed home and work.

But, I digress. Onward to the topic of this post. Sh*t my kids fight about (Do you like how I put that little * in there instead of the i? Now it's rated PG).

So I've started trying to get the boys to do more chores. I have faith that the DAY is coming. The DAY I am talking about when my kids can actually be a help rather than a hinderance to household cleaning. The DAY is when they will be able to run laundry, fold clothes, clean bathrooms, clean the kitchen, vacuum, etc all by themselves. My God, I'm getting giddy just thinking about it. Imagine...

But they're not there yet. Having them "help" is usually a bigger pain in the a$$ than just doing it myself still. But, instead of giving the man a fish I want to put in the extra effort and teach him how to fish. Maybe if I really work on teaching them a few basics the DAY will come sooner.

So today, they helped me pick up Honey's caca in the backyard. Honey is our dog and caca (for those of you who are not hispanic) is dog sh*t. Mateo voluteered to hold the bag, but I had seniority and said that was my job. He and Nico were the scoopers. I held the bag and supervised. It started out good. Since I hadn't done this in a while, there was an abundance of caca to be found and scooped. They were quite excited the first few minutes.

"Hey, look at that huge piece!" I said. Both boys lunged at it, but Nico was the first to scoop it up. Mateo burst into tears.

"NICO! That was mine! I wanted to scoop up that big caca!" wailed Mateo.

"There's lots of caca in this yard. I bet we'll find a bigger piece." I said, "Let's look over by the fence. That's Honey's favorite place to go caca." Isn't it gross that I know this?

Mateo and Nico sprinted over to the fence like two athletes fighting for 1st place.

"Wow! Look at all this caca, Mateo!" said Nico with delight.

"Yeah, but it's all little small pieces." sighed Mateo in defeat. No big caca. What a let down.

So we kept cleaning up dog sh*t for another ten minutes or so.

"Mommy, I'm getting tired. This job is really stinky." moaned Mateo. Nico's interest, meanwhile, was as intent as ever. He getting very mad if I did not acknowledge and praise him for every piece of sh*t he put in the bag.

"Ok, that's enough. We got most of it. Let go was our hands." I said.

"But, mommy, look! There's still caca." said Nico " We have to pick it up!"

"We'll get it next time, ok? I promise you can come pick up caca with me again soon."

Ah yes, some parents promise to take their kids to the park or Chuck E. Cheese as a treat. But so few consider picking up dog sh*t together as way to spend quality time. Nico, at least, looks forward to doing it again. And I look forward to the DAY that they can do this fun activity all by themselves while I sit on the couch and watch TV (will that ever happen again?...oh well, different topic)

2 comments:

  1. I can So relate to this. We've got a 17 week old puppy, and he doesn't know he's supposed to do his business on the walks we take. he insists in using the lawn.

    The 3 year old son screams if he's not allowed to carry the poopbag to the trashcan after i'm done picking it up. :-)

    ReplyDelete