Friday, May 30, 2008
One Room Down....
And a special thanks goes out to my dad for helping us perfect our striping technique, my mom for many nights with the boys while we worked, and to the boys for watching movies in our master bathroom while we painted the rest of the house. Oh... and of course thanks to Trent who enlisted the help of Garrett from work to put up chair rail and they did a darn fine job at it.
The Last Day
And, just because I feel like reminiscing, lets take a look back at Dylan's journey to this point....
Tuesday, May 20, 2008
I need therapy
So, most people who know my family know my child's obsession with Caillou. It is an addiction, really. We record it on our DVR because Dylan likes to watch it at very random times (and I have to admit, Caillou is an excellent babysitter while I take a shower/put a load of clothes in/or check my email). Well, I have always been annoyed by Caillou... his whiny voice, his lack of manners, he is four and still bald... does he have a medical condition or what? What is up with the hair thing?
Anyways... back to my point. Caillou is annoying, yes. But my children love him. In fact, Dylan started telling us things he used to do when he was "little". Well, we started to realize that Dylan's stories were a little more than a 3 year old imagination. They were things that happened to Caillou. I can look past that, too.
My new annoyance with this show is that I am starting to compare myself to Caillou's mommy. Why? I don't know. It is disturbing, honestly. I start to feel guilty that I can't pretend to be a doctor while I put a band aid on his knee after he gets hurt. Caillou's mommy does it. I do have a 1 year old at my feet, screaming at me or trying to open the band aids or honestly he was dunking his toys in the toilet while I am trying to console a frantic 3 year old that screams when he sees his own blood. So... needless to say, I wasn't pretending to be a doctor while I tried to bandage my son. I was yelling at my 1 year old, pleading with my 3 year old to stop screaming and trying not to break into tears out of pure frustration with myself.
I think I need therapy. After all... she isn't real! She is a cartoon! I tell myself that every time I think, "What would Caillou's mommy do about this?"