Posts Tagged With: mess

Sketti Face

Back when I was a kid, we took a lot of family trips. They were primarily camping, boating and skiing trips involving multiple families and friends, and if we weren’t staying at a campground or on the boat, we were usually staying in some type of rental house/time share condominium type unit vs a hotel, so we had kitchen access.

With this kitchen access on vacation, a family tradition was born, at least once during the trip we would have spaghetti night.  We would cook a big pot of spaghetti and multiple loaves of garlic bread – yes even on a Coleman camp stove we could make spaghetti and heat bread! (Soapfi’s Gramma is the undisputed queen of camp stove cooking – why have cereal for breakfast when you can have scrambled egg and Canadian Bacon croissants?)  

Since spaghetti night is one of my favorite memories from all those trips, there was no question that we would have a spaghetti night on this trip. It was just as much fun as I remembered from my youth!

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St Paddy’s Day Dashed

Should have known better than to hope for a good story and cute pictures in print. All I really wanted was a picture from this year that was as cute as this one from last year. Alas, it was not to happen.

The morning started off well, we were up bloody early, dressed in green, in amazingly cheerful moods considering the copious amounts of precipitation, in the form of almost snow, that was falling, picked up Soapfi’s Auntie Suz, and away we went.

It was only ten minutes into the car ride south when Soapfi expressed her desire to not really do this by expelling what seemed like a full gallon of curdled milk vomit all over her favorite blankie, the cuter than cute outfit, and into every crack and crevice a car seat has to offer.

At the next exit we found a parking lot, modified the Onesie removal technique from Much Apoo About Nothing on the Father Trek blog and applied it to Soapfi’s turtleneck with minimum detritus transferring to her hair, blessed our lucky stars there was a clean kitchen towel that had accidentally been left in the back seat, had a crash course in booster seat dis-assembly, and learned that one has to “flick” more than “brush” curdled milk chunks to avoid smashing them into fabric.

Auntie Suz and Soapfi were troopers through the whole ordeal, they were quite content to sit in the front seat playing with all the fun knobs and dials for the radio and thermostat, while mommy was out in the increasingly dense snow fall trying to reassemble the booster seat.

Needless to say all plans for the Dash were scrapped and we headed back home.

You would think as a mom I would have Febreze handy, but I don’t, and since the precipitation hasn’t let up, the smell still lingers.

That’ll teach me to keep my hopes to myself for the 2013 Dash!

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Got Milk?

As Soapfi gets older we have started to dare to leave her in the living room semi-unattended for longer periods of time, with varying degrees of success (I’m recalling the blueberry/baby formula incident of 2011). We are usually around the corner in the kitchen, the Sarlacc Pit, on rare occasions upstairs grabbing a load of laundry, or even attempting to use the bathroom all by ourselves.

This weekend Daddy had to put in crazy hours of overtime, which meant I was leaving her to her own devices more often than usual in order to get anything done. I was washing my own hands in the bathroom when I heard Soapfi mumbling “wash hands, wash hands” so I just assumed she was hearing the sink (not only does she have Bionic Eyes, she has ears like a bat) and commenting on what I was doing. I couldn’t have been more wrong.

She was doing some early spring cleaning of the coffee table and having her own mini-spa day, complete with milk bath!

She delightfully declared everything “all clean” as she vigorously spread the milk all over the table.

After all, milk has so many uses, it’s not just for drinking. They make all kinds of bath products out of it, why not go straight to the source?

The best was when she started clapping her hands together to “wash” them and then started rubbing her head to wash her hair as well. Of course, when mommy suggested a *real* bath suddenly playing “wash hands/all clean” lost it’s charm!

The flexible spouts are definitely being yanked from sippy cup rotation!

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Lettuce Make A Mess

We are in the midst of the “I do it” ‘s. Struggling with the desire to let her do things on her own, while mitigating the cleanup that will undoubtedly be involved afterwards. There have been worse messes, but last night was fun – I only wish I had been able to find my camera – I’m blaming the Sarlacc Pit – it’s appetite for all things electronic is amazing.

Daddy was still recovering from his cultural experience from the night before, so it was Quizno’s for dinner. Soapfi decided my Turkey Ranch Swiss looked delightful and managed to grab an entire half and scamper off into the living room. It started out okay, she was using two hands, taking dainty bites while the sandwich obscured half her face (what I had hoped to capture on film), and actually sitting in an almost ladylike fashion in her favorite kid sized chair in front of the TV.

Yes, we are horrible parents who let her watch TV even though she is not two yet – the girl LOVES her some Super Why and since she can shout out and correctly identify the super letters, likes to get up and dance with Mr Noodle, and Mr Noodle’s brother Mr Noodle, and has learned to say “Arrgghh, Matey” (even though it sounds like “Eh, Mickey”) whenever she sees a pirate thanks to Calliou, I refuse to believe that we have rotted her brain completely. 

However, as she became more confident in her ability to eat this sandwich herself, things (especially the sandwich) began to fall apart.

First she decided she only needed one hand to control this momentous hunk of bread, deli meat, cheese, and condiment deliciousness.   A gaping maw began to develop along the edge, lettuce began to waft gently towards the carpet.

Sit still?  How absurd, mommy and daddy need to revel in this glorious achievement,  thus the full tilt run back into the dining room, leaving a trail of lettuce Hansel & Gretel would be proud of.  And the one handed death grip on the side of the sandwich causes the gaping maw to open wider.

Upon seeing the status of the sandwich I reach out and ask nicely “Would you like help?”.  Mistakenly thinking I could repair the gaping maw and mitigate further lettuce bombs on the carpet. Klaxons sound and Soapfi goes into full battle mode, pulling back on the sandwich and shouting “I DO IT”, and running back to the safety of her living room chair.  Naturally not taking the original path and leaving another smattering trail of lettuce (reinforcing my opinion that shops put way too damn much lettuce on sandwiches to begin with).

Feeling safer on her home turf, she lets me approach as I try, once again, to extract the quickly disintegrating hunk of food and explain that we now have to clean up the mess.

Oh… a mess!  The only thing she loves more than making a mess, it’s helping to clean up the mess…. of course her definition of “helping” is to grab a napkin or towel and proceed to vigorously smash the mess deeper into the carpet while chanting “all clean, all clean, all clean”.

After which I dutifully clapped, thanked her for helping, and reaffirmed my decision to give Alpine Carpet Cleaners one of the speed dial slots on my cell phone .

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