Archive for the ‘Mothering’ Category

lions, murder, and dreams, oh my.

Saturday, February 21st, 2009

Drew woke up around midnight last night, screaming and sobbing. I ran to his room and asked him what was wrong (that actually does work sometimes) but he went into I’ll-throw-my-body-in-the-floor-and-wail-until-you-figure-it-out mode. OVERWHELMING.

I tried giving him something to drink, rubbing his back, checking his diaper, re-tucking the blankets, asking if his tummy had an owie, or if there were any OTHER owie’s I needed to look at. He just kept screaming and hitting his head on his pillow. I finally gave him some medicine for his tummy in case he had a tummy ache.

Then I took him over to the rocking chair and wrapped a blanket around him and started singing while I rocked. He fought me as hard as he could, wriggling and trying to get down, all the while – screaming. After TEN LONG MINUTES in which it felt like days passed, he just suddenly slumped into my arms and laid his head down and started snoring slightly.

I tiptoed back to his bed and laid him down. But his blanket was stuck underneath him a little so I eased it out very carefully, trying not to wake him, when he suddenly said, “Hi. Blanket? Night night.”

Oops. I thought he was sleeping. I kissed him and tucked him back in and crawled into bed again.

And then I woke up at one with a very sick Daniel. I’ve never seen him so sick in all of our marriage. I felt so sorry for him. I brought him warm washcloths and offered to run to Wal-Mart (open 24 hours) and buy some medicine to settle his stomach because we are out of it.

He said he actually felt better after getting sick (isn’t that the way it always works? heh.) so we went downstairs and sat in the living room in the dark and talked about whether I should sleep on the couch as to avoid any more germs by sleeping in the same bed with him.

I decided not to because our couch is horribly uncomfortable (the one in the living room, NOT the one in Drew’s room – it’s the wiggliest couch in the world) and because I figured that I hadn’t avoided any germs already. I did spray Lysol on the bed, and then Febreeze, because I can’t stand the smell of Lysol and it was like HEAVEN to have the smell of Febreeze all around me while trying to drift back off to sleep.

I finally fell asleep.

And Oh, Wow. The dream I had was so freaky that when I woke up, I immediately ran downstairs and checked to see if my laptop had charged enough for me to write it down before forgetting it. Elsa, my laptop, was completely charged. Yay.

So, here’s my story.

~

The people I graduated from college with gathered a particular conference together one weekend. It was a conference with some sort of ceremony as well.

Daniel, Drew, and I found a place to stay at this rather eclectic Inn ran by an older Asian couple. We paid for a beautiful room (the most expensive one). We walked in and were so impressed and in awe. Only when we started to look closer did we realize something wasn’t right. The salt and pepper shakers in the kitchen were turned over and the lids were off. Salt and pepper were glumped into piles all over the table. And when I walked by the bathroom, there was a bowl of orange water sitting in the floor. And fingerprints all over the mirrors throughout the room.

I walked back over to Daniel, who was unpacking, and said, “I think we may be in a room that wasn’t cleaned. Which is awful. Don’t unpack yet – I need to go speak with the owners and have us moved to another room.”

At that moment, a man opened a door (that we didn’t know was a door) and ran into our room and stopped and stared at us.

“Oh! This must be your room. We were just put in here, I’m so sorry.”

“No, this isn’t my room. I just wanted to come in and talk to you.”

I completely flipped out then. Not only were we in a dirty room at this Very Odd Inn but it was possible for random people to just walk into our room if they wanted to?

I started screaming at the top of my lungs and had a meltdown. The owners rushed into the room (again, no knocking or anything) and asked what was wrong.

I just pointed at the strange man and said “HE GOT IN HERE. OUR ROOM IS DIRTY. AUGH.” The owners just smiled and assured us that the man was the wife’s brother and that our room was clean and that the fingerprints, salt & pepper, and orange water came with every room.

The strange man rushed over to Daniel and said, “the only reason I came in here is because I wanted to tell you that you and your family HAVE to attend the conference and ceremony tonight.”

Daniel told him that we were already planning on going and satisfied, the man ran back out.

Then we saw the older couple (the owners) standing by the window and muttering. We walked over and looked outside to see a VERY ANGRY LION pouncing about.

“WHY is there a lion outside?”

The older woman explained, “oh, we’ve always had this lion on the property. He’s very angry and gets mad about everything. We have to be very careful when we go outside or he will attack us.”

Furious that they didn’t tell us when we were registering that OH BY THE WAY, WE HAVE AN ANGRY LION, I sputtered and grew red-faced. Then, they opened the window and leaned out to TALK to the lion. It apparently was meant as a calming gesture but the lion jumped through the window and started chasing us all around, growling and snapping his teeth.

Screaming, of course, we all ran around in a circle. Then the couple ran to the window and produced two small silver toys, clinked them together, and threw them out the window. The lion whirled around and ran to the window and jumped out, attacking the toys with vengeance.

They slammed the windows and then apologized profusely about the lion having gotten into our room.

Everyone left our room to go into the main room of the Inn and discuss the lion problem. Everyone except me, Drew, and a nanny type lady who worked at the Inn. We were sitting in the floor near the window when I felt something sting HORRIBLY between my toenails!! I looked down and saw three scorpions, dead (apparently biting me killed them), right by my feet.

I screamed so loudly and ran to the other side of the room as fast as I could. The nanny was trying to understand what I was saying but I was screaming so loud and talking so fast that it was hard. Finally, she heard me say “GET DREW OFF THE FLOOR! SCORPIONS!”

She grabbed him and ran over to be with me. On the safe side of the room.

The problem must have resolved itself because the next thing I remember is Daniel and I trying to get our luggage and Drew from our room to the elevator (we had our own personal elevator in our room) but someone was shooting at us through the window. We had to army crawl to the elevator and jump and hop to avoid the bullets. We finally got all of our luggage and Drew onto the elevator to head downstairs, and then on to our car.

We made it to the car safely, with no one shooting at us outside and with no lion attacks.

We gathered into a huge auditorium (if you’ve been to the FMA at BJU, it was EXACTLY like that) that seated about 7,000 people. But the only people attending were folks that graduated with me in 2003. So, not nearly enough to fill up one section in the auditorium. And oddly, I didn’t recognize ANY faces around me.

The conference/ceremony began with one particular professor speaking. I don’t remember what he was speaking about but suddenly he started blinking and speaking much slower. His voiced cracked and then he stopped his speech and leaned towards the mike.

“You kids better not make FUN OF ME. I know my words don’t make sense and my face is crumbling away but if you tease me then I will CHASE YOU.” He started moaning and making dying noises into the mike and wiping imaginary drool away.

He jumped up and started chasing a few people around and then mass panic set in and everyone started running for the exits. Finally, one brave man hit the professor as hard as he could – right in the face.

And the professor just fell to the ground, giggling. “My face! It hurts! But it’s still there. It’s all in my mind!!”

After that, we all sat back down for the next speech.

A very squishy woman, with a redneck drawl, and short bright red hair, stood up to give a speech. But she threw her speech down and pulled out a shotgun instead.

“I want to confess that I had to go to prison for many long years because of killing people. I just wanted to tell my story.”

No one budged while she told her story and then as she ended, she raised the gun up and started shooting people in the audience. Everyone fell into the floor and started hiding behind the seats.

Daniel, Drew and I were hiding behind a row of seats and panicking about being killed again. All of the sudden, Daniel pulled out a thick envelope and acted like he was going to stand up.

I whispered, loudly, “ARE YOU CRAZY? SHE’S GOING TO KILL YOU IF YOU STAND UP!”

“No, she won’t. But I have to go up there.”

“NO YOU DO NOT. SIT DOWN.”

“No, I need to read these. This envelope holds letters from John, me, and has my confession of when I was in prison for murder too. And I have to read them to everyone.”

“Oh. Alright. YOUR NAME IS JOHN?”

And with that, my alarm went off and I woke up thinking WHO DID I MARRY?!?!

~

Is that not the FREAKIEST dream ever? I love that I didn’t mind that my husband had murdered anyone, I just couldn’t believe that Daniel wasn’t his real name.

late night mothering.

Friday, January 30th, 2009

I was up with Drew for three hours last night. He would scream and cry for 30 minutes and then he’d settle on to my shoulder as I’d rock him and he’d sleep for 10 minutes. And then wake up and scream and cry for 30 minutes, etc.

I’m not sure what other mothers are like, but I’m human, and struggle with patience enough as it is. So when I am sick too and can’t fix my child’s problem, it’s so easy for me to fall apart and wail or raise my voice with Drew. Which doesn’t help a little sick boy at all.

But each time I reached that emotional scary place, I was reminded of the many different stories of children who are so needy right now, and the tears would stream down my face. My son is relatively healthy right now (besides a cold and a stomach bug) and I don’t want to take that for granted.

I rocked him for three hours, and prayed for him while he screamed and then while he slept, I whispered prayers for the other children.

Don’t get me wrong. πŸ˜‰ I’m not trying to say I’m simply a holy mother who prays for children around the world in the middle of the night even while sick and hacking up her lungs. I fought sleep and struggled to keep focused.

But God has been GOOD. God IS Good. He is to be praised and even in the midst of overwhelmingness, I was gently reminded of how God holds us and He’s there for us even when we are afraid or confused or just plain stressed.

This week has been difficult as Daniel has also caught the cold and we’re all three in a funk. And stressed. But even in the midst of tissue boxes, cough drop wrappers, Sprite bottles, hot soup, and back-rubs, I have seen the hand of God doing things in our life this week that have no explanation other than His grace and wiggliness, to be frank.

Hmm. That’s a new doctrine, right? God’s wiggliness. πŸ˜‰

Thankfully, Drew is feeling much better this morning (he’s been hiding cheerios everywhere and saying PEEKABOO when he finds them). Daniel just left for work (he’s not feeling too hot) and I’m breathing a little better this morning.

the bratty diet.

Wednesday, January 28th, 2009

Warning. Lots of poo talk in this post.

I woke up to find a thick(er) blanket of snow all over the lawn. It’s really beautiful. And with the promise of a snowsuit heading our way (for Drew), I was looking forward to letting him have a grand ole time outside.

But when I went to his room about an hour ago, I knocked on the door. I do that sometimes and he knocks back and I say “hi Drew” and he says “hi Mommy, open door!”

He knocked and then I heard a little whining.

I opened the door to see diarrhea POURING out of his diaper. On the carpet in his room. It was so disgusting I thought I was going to get sick myself.

I yanked him on to the diaper changing table and shrieked for Daniel. The table was the closest thing and I knew that Daniel had just finished taking a shower and that the hot water wasn’t back yet. I took all his clothes off, determined that he’d actually stopped *going*, and tried to clean him up with wipes. It was so gross. I got nauseated quite a bit through the whole ordeal and I found that odd because ever since I got my mom license, poo and throwup and all other bodily fluids simply don’t freak me out.

But this was just wild. And overwhelming. Daniel had been eating breakfast and when I shrieked, he left his cereal to soggify (don’t you hate when that happens) and he dashed upstairs and started wiping up the carpet.

I finally decided that Drew would just have to have a cold bath. I plopped him in the tub and discovered there was as TINY bit of warm water left. I scrubbed him down and then by the time I drained the water and it was time to rinse, it was COLD. Every time I poured a cup of water over him to rinse him he gave me the most HORRID frown you can imagine.

I dried him off and put him in front of the heater to get warm and put clean pajamas on. I then took him downstairs to his high chair and started the BRATTY diet: bananas, rice, applesauce, tea, toast, and yogurt.

I cleaned a bit more in his room and Daniel took the trash out to the road because it was almost time for the truck to be at our house. That’s when we discovered our landlord out scraping our driveway for us. Very encouraging in the midst of all the stress.

I’m still not sure what’s going on with Drew. πŸ™ This is the third time he’s been sick since Friday, this being the worst.

I’m really hoping that it isn’t that he’s allergic to milk. Friday night he threw up all over his bed but I think that was because he had dinner (when we had the Souder’s over) and then played for almost two hours with Zedekiah at FULL SPEED AHEAD and then drank milk before bed. Within 5 minutes of laying down he got sick.

Then on both Sunday and Monday he had extremely frightening diapers all day.

I’m thinking he just has a stomach bug. If it was milk, and there is history of Bergey men being allergic to milk, then I’d think he would have been allergic to it a long time ago and that it wouldn’t have just suddenly started.

I hope the rest of the day is better.

I still feel deathly sick. Daniel bought me some delicious medicine last night, though. It really helps with the stuffiness and the ear-popping.

We may have to wait until Daniel gets home from work this evening so he can take Drew out to play in the snow. I’m not sure if I need to be in the cold.

Well, I have carpet to clean in his room. Unless someone wants to come do it for me. πŸ™‚

live blogging.

Tuesday, January 27th, 2009

9:48pm

This will be my last update on a day of live blogging. I haz siknes. πŸ™

I can’t think straight at all.

I took a nap on the couch. Daniel played some guitar (Drew is learning to strum gently). Daniel is now working again. Drew is tucked in bed but talking loudly instead of sleeping.

I’m hoping to eat a really wiggly snack in a bit while watching some Frasier. That always cheers me up. Even when I’m DYING OF THE SICKNESS.

Happy Tuesday Night. πŸ™‚

7:18pm

Daniel came home around 6pm and found me on the couch, teary, and falling apart. I just feel sooooo sick.

He ate some weird Japanese noodles (leftover from lunch out with Sam apparently), Drew had chicken and fruit, and I had soup.

Daniel also made me laugh so hard that I had to rush to the bathroom. He started imitating Douglas from The IT Crowd. It was absolutely hilarious.

Daniel is in the recliner working on his laptop. Drew is painting with water. Hehe. He doesn’t even KNOW about the world of paint yet. *sneaky*

And I’m miserable. WHINE.

5:25pm

Oh! I just realized I didn’t tell you about my dream last night.

I was with my schoolmates from high school and we were traveling in a group of buses. With President Obama and his wife Michelle. Riiiight.

I was in the first bus with the President (of course I was). I remember it all being very matter of fact. No one was snapping pictures or oohing and ahhing over the President. We were a fully functioning team. On an important mission.

To find dresses for Malia and Sasha to wear.

And yesterday, in my REAL world, I was marveling on Facebook at all of the folks I went to high school having children (it feels like we shouldn’t be that old), I watched our neighbor’s daughter get off the school bus (I wasn’t being a creepy spy neighbor, calm down), and I got hooked into reading Mrs. O for quite awhile and there was one post that I read about Malia and Sasha.

Now it makes sense. πŸ˜‰

4:55pm

Since I woke late this morning, I snuck in a shower while Drew was sleeping. He’s still sleeping, actually. Yay. He’s much wigglier when he has his rest.

Oh. Hmm. Scratch that. I just heard him say “doo doo HI doo la la.”

So, my shower was awful. I ran out of hot water and OH MY WORD. I still had to rinse and I was shivering and only standing in the stream of water for 10 seconds and then I would scoot out of the stream. It was horrid.

I feel really sick. The glands in my neck are swollen and whenever I move my neck around, it hurts. I can’t breathe very well. And I have a headache the size of my couch.

Drew is making fussy noises so I’m off again.

3:05pm

My darling little boy finally fell sound asleep. I’ve eaten an entire sleeve of saltine crackers. And I’ve caught up on some email and NetNewsWire.

Here are some really interesting reads:

~ A video of moms discussing whether they are raising a religious child or not. You may not have the time to watch the video but please go read one of the comments. It’s powerful. Just search for “funny you should” when you are down at the comment section.

~ New Apple icons released from IconFactory. Yay.

~ An article about brain damage to football players’ brains.

~ Also, have you heard about the octuplets that were recently born? I’m just absolutely amazed by this story and of course found my way to Wikipedia where I searched for multiple births and read story after story. That’s when I found this article that was written last year about selective reduction. I cried and cried while reading it. Ugh. You can tell the author of the article is somewhat bias against it but I think she tries to explain both sides of the issue.

1:45pm

The nap didn’t happen. It’s not even currently happening. This does not bode well for the rest of the afternoon. Hopefully, at some point, I can convince him that curling up for a quick nap is NOT THE END OF THE WORLD.

For Drew’s lunch, I made a smiley sandwich.

He also had 1/2 of an apple, some cheese cubes, cheerios, and goldfish. He also asked to have some “medsun” because he saw my medicine bottle sitting on the table. Um. No.

It’s possible that I made odd beeping noises to get him to smile in this picture. And doesn’t he totally look sleepy and red-faced?

While waiting for him to finish eating lunch, I took a few pictures of items on my fridge.

Here is a piece of art I did while in high school. It’s called stippling and you just make small dots on paper. That’s all. πŸ˜› I “stippled” a picture I had made at Olan Mills when I was a wee lass.

Oh! And I found this stack of stationary as I was going through a box last night.

I immediately wanted to write a billion letters. As I mentioned before, I’m currently writing back and forth with Granny but I’ve also recently started corresponding with my cousin-in-law, Tara. It’s so wiggly. I miss REAL letters so much in this world of technology, Twitter, e-mail, and Facebook.

So, all that to say, if you want me to send you a letter OR a post-card (there is a place to buy local postcards nearby) OR both, then please comment and let me know. I’ll get your address from you and you’ll get a little hello as soon as I can get it all together. Real mail is totally awesome.

I’m really hungry now so I’m going to try once more to convince the little monster wonderfulness that it’s NAP TIME and then eat some food.

12:30pm

Live-blogging from a stay at home mom is not that interesting. I’m just warning you.

Bath-time was rollicking as usual (which means I’m sopping wet by the end). I then decided I needed to straighten Drew’s room because he had pulled ALL the toys out last night and I’d just scooted them to the side when I tucked him in bed last night because I was so tired and plus, if I stayed and straightened while he was snuggling down to sleep, I knew he’d want to get back up and play.

We straightened his room and reorganized and fluffed all the blankets and pillows. If you ever need to entertain a small child, just fluff a pillow. It sends him into a fit of giggles.

I realized I hadn’t taken any good pictures of his room since we moved so I got my camera out.

Here’s where he sleeps. We haven’t transitioned into a toddler bed yet but he does have the side of his crib off and he loves the fact that he can scoot off the bed. I just put the bedskirt on a few minutes ago because I found it in a basket of laundry to fold. I didn’t iron it (that’s for you, Mom, because I know it probably pains your eyes to see WRINKLES, hehe – she even irons pillowcases which I think is a riot) because the wrinkles will fall out soon.

This is the kitchen and a small basket of fruit that he likes to “chew.” Don’t fuss at me because one of the electrical outlet covers is missing. Drew hasn’t tried to touch one since we moved into this house and the covers are down in the basement so I haven’t really had the urge to go find a cover and plug it in. He also doesn’t have anything in his room small enough that he could poke in there. Can you tell I’m getting all defensive about the outlet cover? LOL

Drew likes to sit in this chair and drive trucks on the arms. He also stands in it and looks out the window and asks, “wheresa topter?” ONE TIME a helicopter flew over the house right when we were looking out the window at squirrels in the tree and he was so wiggly and squeaky about it that he can’t forget about it. On nights when he’s really having trouble getting to sleep, and recites all the things in the room and says “night night” to them all, he will look over at the window and say “night night topter.” As if it’s silently hovering over our home at all times.

That would actually be cool.

I keep a soft blanket on the floor beside Drew’s bed for the inevitable crashing or thumping I might here in the night. Surprisingly, I haven’t heard that or found him in the floor for about three weeks now.

This bookcase holds the board books that Drew can’t tear apart as easily as the huge collection of nice children’s books that we have. It’s also a good place for him to drive cars and trucks on. All little boys and girls need driving space besides the floor. πŸ˜‰

Here’s his changing table and boxes of toys and Dr. Seuss books. His heater sits in front of the changing table at night only, after he’s in bed. His rocking horse is tucked back behind the arm of the couch. We pull it out when he wants to ride. Which is rare because he’s still a bit horse-shy. You can also see a bit of our office supplies on a black shelf. This room used to be our office and we just haven’t moved that shelf out of his room yet. He can’t get back there so we are taking our time. Well, actually, he can. He’s managed to do it twice. But we just found him driving a car on top of file folder boxes. πŸ™‚

And here’s the cozy couch in Drew’s room. It’s THE MOST COMFORTABLE COUCH IN THE WORLD. And we’ll just pretend like he’s never left a poo wad on one of the couch cushions. We read books here after bath-time and before he goes to sleep at night (unless we are all too tired and then it’s just “drewgetinthebedgoodnightiloveyou”).

Here’s the cute lion rug that Mom and Dad bought Drew for Christmas.

By the time I was through taking pictures, Drew was ready for a nap. On most days he just takes one nap now but sometimes he will take two. Here he is after tucking him in bed. πŸ™‚

nap time

But as I’ve written this, and uploaded the pictures to Flickr, he has laughed and played and is currently banging on his door saying, “OPEN DOOR.”

Soooo. I will head upstairs now. I am being summoned.

10:30am

I really like hard-boiled eggs. But they ended up not cooking long enough. I followed the “egg plan” that I’ve always done (I got this from my dad who boils an egg for my mom every single morning): place the hard boiled egg in cold water, sit it on the stove, turn it on medium, leave for 22 minutes.

But when I finished peeling them, they were just a tad runny on the inside. Fuss. I think this might be the first time I’ve boiled eggs since we’ve been using this stove. I’ve done scrambled eggs and Daniel has done fried eggs but no one has hard boiled until now. Perhaps my stove is just weird?

But I really wanted eggs. So I scrambled some more for me and Daniel. He ate his quickly and flew out the door. Drew woke up (finally) and he and I ate breakfast.

We both split this:

breakfast

By the way, it snowed last night. It’s just a dusting though.

just a dusting

I went out on the porch to see what it looked like and I found evidence of something tiny nosying around on our porch.

evidence

Yes, that’s our Christmas tree. Don’t laugh. I put it out there the other day (and got sap ALL OVER ME) and Daniel is planning on taking it to the Christmas Tree Heaven place either tonight or tomorrow night. We missed the day wherein our borough came by and picked the trees up for folks.

Drew is watching “boo boo” right now. It’s shapes and colors and he’s shouting RED BLUE LELLOW.

But when this is over it will be bath-time for Bonzo and we’ll be off for scrubbing and splashing!

9:30am

We woke up a bit late this morning. At 9am, Daniel and I both rolled over and said, “ughaheflbkeck.” Which in awake-land means “oh, drat, we must have turned the alarm off instead of hitting snooze.”

Daniel was up late last night, working and blogging, so he probably needed the rest so he can function at his other job today. I was up intermittently through the night as well due to I can’t breathe, I have a headache, and I have to pee every hour (I’m drinking Cranberry juice so you can imagine what other stupid problem I have right now).

Also, Drew woke up around 3am and announced loudly through the baby monitor on my nightstand “HI MOMMY. BED. TIGGER. BLAMBLET. TWO BLAMBLETS. HEATER. WATAH WATAH WATAH!”

Daniel just bought him a very large stuffed Tigger that had apparently fallen off of his bed. He calls his two blankets that he sleeps with “blamblets” and he likes to talk about the heater I keep in his room at night on very cold nights where the heat vent in his room doesn’t work very well. And, he was apparently thirsty. So I got up and took care of him and tucked him back in bed and then crashed again.

Only to have the weirdest dream ever.

Seriously. I dreamt about Barack and Michelle Obama.

I’ll tell you about it in a bit but I have to go check on the eggs that are boiling on the stove.

don’t splash the diesel cars.

Wednesday, January 7th, 2009

Since I’m a play-at-home mommy, I spend a lot of time reading children’s books and occasionally watch a few children’s PBS shows. I’m pretty picky about books and shows that I let Drew read and watch.

That means he watches Dexter regularly and we read murder mysteries before bedtime.

JUST KIDDING.

We actually love Word World (he can’t stand Sesame Street and I’m not a big fan either). And Tigger & Pooh. And we read a gargantuan amount of children’s books.

Drew was given a collection of books for Christmas that he has fallen in love with – mostly because they have stickers sheets in the front.

But I’ve been really bothered by one of the books titled I’m Sorry. I can appreciate the theme of the book – children need to have manners. But the story is rather awful, I think. And not just awful like most Christian fiction, but awful because it is WRONG.

This is the poem throughout the book:

What naughty monkeys at the zoo!
They’re dropping their food and throwing it, too.
The monkeys don’t speak, but if they could,
they should say sorry for not being good.

If you drop your food like the monkeys do…
What should you say?
Say “I’m sorry!” too.

What noisy hippos at the zoo!
They’ve woken the sleepy old gnu.
The hippos don’t speak, but if they could,
they should say sorry for not being good.

If you make a noisy hullabaloo…
What should you say?
Say “I’m sorry!” too.

What silly penguins at the zoo!
They’re splashing the lions and the tigers, too.
The penguins don’t speak, but if they could,
they should say sorry for not being good.

If you splash your friends when you shouldn’t do…
What should you say?
Say “I’m sorry!” too.

What grumpy zebras at the zoo!
They’re pushing in front of the kangaroo.
The zebras don’t speak, but if they could,
They should say sorry for not being good.

If you push someone like the zebras do…
What should you say?
Say “I’m sorry!” too.

None of the animals in the zoo
know good manners like you do.
But just imagine if they could…
What should they say for not being good?

“Sorry!”

Is it just me or is this book teaching that animals are bad for…being animals?!

I will certainly teach Drew that we don’t throw food unless it’s a proper Food Fight, and that being noisy is best when we are at home and it’s just with Mommy and Daddy, and that splashing is FINE when you are in water, and that grumpiness is a normal feeling and instead of pushing other kids around, that pushing his stuffed animals or pillows is best. Or, just don’t push.

But using animals that have these completely natural instincts that aren’t “morally wrong” to teach children manners – seriously? Am I the only one who thinks this is weird and wrong?

This morning while we were eating breakfast, Drew asked if we could “peese boo boo.” I smiled and said sure, so we carried our breakfast into the living room and curled up on the couch and slowly woke up while watching Thomas the Tank Engine and eating yummy cereal and bananas and cheerios and juice and okay, so we ate a lot.

But this particular episode of Thomas the Tank Engine completely floored me.

The episode starts with Thomas’ driver mentioning that Thomas could probably manage without him because the engine knows the route so well. Thomas gets pretty cocky about it and giggles to his friends that he knows he could totally drive his route without a driver. Both of his friends tell him that he is crazy but Thomas starts to waken early the next morning when he feels warm coal inside of him.

Thomas decides that he’s going to prove to his driver and his friends that he really CAN do the whole route on his very own. His plan is to start out early before they wake up. He starts moving but the only reason he is moving is because a careless cleaner had meddled with his controls. But Thomas starts to panic because he realizes he can’t toot his horn or use his brakes. He keeps rolling along, gaining momentum, until he slams into the Station Master’s house!

The Station Master’s family was about to have breakfast. The house rocks, glass goes everywhere, and Thomas’s nose smashes right into the table where they are sitting. The Station Master is furious and his wife sharply criticizes Thomas by saying, “you miserable engine! Just look what you’ve done to our breakfast! I shall have to cook some more!”

The narrator of the episode said “Thomas felt depressed.” Ha. No kidding.

Two Scottish twin engines, Donald and Douglas, arrive and pull Thomas back onto the tracks. They laugh at him and leave him there. And when Thomas arrives at the train yard, there is worse to come.

His driver says “you are in a lot of trouble! You must go to the works and have your front mended. And a diesel rail car will do your work.”

Thomas balks and says, “a DIESEL CAR?”

“Yes, a diesel car. They always stay in their sheds until they are wanted. Diesels never galavant off to breakfast in their Station Master’s houses.”

And then, THE STORY ENDS. That’s all.

I just sat there and stared. Seriously???

Thomas only left the train yard because a stupid cleaner meddled with his controls!!! And yet he got criticized, laughed at, and ended up depressed. And don’t even get me started on the whole “a DIESEL CAR?” Discrimination, anyone?

Drew really thought the episode was hilarious and shouted “WHEELS!” every time the train rolled by and he thought the wreck at the Station Master’s house was funny.

I don’t think he was harmed by viewing it. πŸ™‚

But between the manners book, and this episode, AUGH. Am I being paranoid? Aren’t both of these potentially harmful for a child to read or watch? Or am I just being silly and need to get back to finishing watching Dexter?