With all the hustle, bustle of preparing for the holidays, I admit I probably haven't been giving my children the same amount of supervision I normally do.
That is not to say that I ignore them or leave them to fend for themselves. It is just that I will be so consumed in a project that I don't check in on them as often as
I should I usually do. Usually their giggles and shrieks assure me that they are, indeed, alive and well. It is the silence that terrifies me. So imagine my suspicion when in the middle of trying to fill out, address and stamp my ten thousand Christmas cards I become aware of the eerie silence that has cloaked my usually deafening home. I got up and began cautiously checking each room, shouting for Nelly, with no response. My heart begins to sink with dread as all kind of horrible scenarios run through my mind. What if she got outside? What if she is hurt and unconscious? What if she was abducted by aliens? Suddenly, I heard some shuffling around from the kitchen...What the? I turned the corner and paused right before the kitchen entryway, bracing myself for the very worst. I stepped around the threshold and came face to face with this:
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| If only I can get this goddam nail polish open... |
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| Wait, shhh...Did you hear that? |
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| Oh shit...I mean...Hi Mommy! Just tidying things up for you. |
Apparently, Nelly decided that she was due for a manicure. I had a few of my favorite nail polishes on top of the stove. Well, she must have opened the oven door, and used it as a step to hoist herself up onto the top of the range. I watched her for a second as she struggled to open the nail polish, until she finally turned around with a looked on her face that clearly said "BUSTED." Thankfully, my oven and burners are next to impossible for me to turn on, let alone a two year old. You have to screw around with the timer for like five minutes, jiggle the dial, kick it three times and shout at least four profanities before the oven will work. Don't even get me started on my schizophrenic burners. I took her down and gave her a stern talking to: (*In meanest baby-talk voice* "Nooo, Neh-wee-poo, dat's badddd durl...It will burn da wittle babyyy...You no touch dat, oh-tay?" She looked at me like I had lost my mind and toddled off. Thankfully, we haven't had a repeat of her little adventure...yet. I am sure we will though, now that she knows she can use the oven door as a stepstool. If I am being totally honest I must admit that I hesitated before posting this. I was worried that all the other blogging moms would chastise me for being a shitty mom who lets her baby play on top of the stove. But then i decided fuck it, shit happens. (Pardon my french) I don't have eyes in the back of my head and cannot keeps tabs on both kids and get everything done i need to at the same time. And if there are any moms out there who can do so, well then I
secretly think you're full of shit applaud you.
**There is a Christmas gift post in the works that consists of the gifts I bought my rugrats, and what I think some of the top toys of 2011 are. I am sharing this because I figure if you are anything like me then you are one nosy S.O.B and want to know what every other mom is doing, buying, wearing, cooking etc. I mostly enjoy these types of posts because I can then steal all these fantastic mom's ideas and claim them as my own, wowing my family and friends with my ingenuity in the progress:D Although I cannot guarantee a specific day, it will be posted this week for sure.**
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