Tag Archives: babies

The Paint Can.

The Paint Can.

First of all, I realize that I sound like The Most Unobservant Mother Ever.  I probably am.

Second of all, there is no photographic record for what I am about to tell you.   You’ll just have to take my word for it.  Because WHY WOULD I MAKE THIS UP!?

A week ago, Joey brought in a paint can from the garage to warm up so he could paint the inside of a door that he was working on.  Short version: the paint was all weird from being in the garage for so long, so we were going to have to throw it out.  He stuck the drop cloth and a couple of paint cans in the corner of the kitchen, and that was the end of the project.

Fast forward to today.  I was cleaning the kitchen counters while Analie and Angus alternately stirred and tried to climb inside my largest mixing bowls.  They’ve been playing on the kitchen floor all week and haven’t even noticed the drop cloth and cans in the corner, so I’d wipewipewipe the counter, glance back to make sure they weren’t biting each other, and then wipewipewipe the counter again.

Suddenly, I had to go to the bathroom.  (I KNOW, SORRY.  But it’s what happened next.  I’m sure you have to go to the bathroom sometimes too.)  I looked at my children, happily shoving each other as they scuffled over which one of them was going to use the spatula, and I ran out of the room.

I was gone for less than a minute.  Probably more like 30 seconds.  (Because really, who washes their hands in the bathroom when you left your kids playing on the kitchen floor by themselves?  My kitchen has a sink, and I know how to use it.)  When I returned, they were not where I left them.

NO.

THEY WERE NOT.

Suddenly, one of them had spotted the paint cans and drop cloths in the corner, so they had both crawled over and started exploring.

GUYS.  I have been staring at those stupid paint cans all week and somehow I neglected to notice that one of them didn’t even have a lid on it.

You want to know how fast they realized that?  Like 0.0001 seconds after starting to crawl over there.  And you want to know what else?  Not only did that stupid paint can not have a lid on it, but there was a stir stick in it!  STICKING UP IN THE AIR LIKE THE SEARS TOWER.  (Wait, do they even call it the Sears Tower anymore?  Whatevs.)  But you surely get my point, which was that the stick was super obvious to anyone who has eyeballs.  And it’s always a pretty good indicator that there’s no lid on a paint can if there’s a stir stick in it.

So we’ve established that I’m blind.

Back to the story.

I walk into the kitchen and there’s Analie, holding the end of a gloopy, paint-soaked, stir stick, and she’s happily sweeping it in broad swaths on the wood floor.  The grin on her face is worth a million bucks, and I can see the pure amazement that WOAH!  There’s white stuff every place I move this stick!

Where’s Angus?  Oh, he’s eating the wet paint she smears on the floor, so his face and whiskers are bright white.

What did I do?  I started screaming “WHAAAAAAT?!?!” and jumped around the kitchen floor throwing random things away.  I’m not even sure what all went into the trash can (hopefully it wasn’t anything important), but I know the paint stick was the first thing to go.

The paint on the floor was thick and oozing into the cracks between the wood on the floor, so I unrolled a bunch of paper towels and alternately tried to wipe the floor, my child’s hands, and keep Angus from eating more paint.

And did I mention that somewhere in the chaos I stepped in the paint?  I wish I had realized it when it happened, because the next thing I knew there were Jenna footprints all over the kitchen floor.

I could keep going, but I think you get the drift.  All told, it took about 20 minutes and Joey’s travel toothbrush to clean up.  Angus has since stolen that toothbrush and carried it off to who knows where.

I just hope the paint on it has dried by now.

(I feel like the takeaway in all this is that I just need to stop having to go to the bathroom.  Ever.  Because LOOK WHAT HAPPENS.)

And that is the story of how I inked my place in the record books as The Most Unobservant Mother Ever.

APPLES.

APPLES.

It’s no secret that Analie loves apples.

In fact, we have to hide them if we’re eating them and she’s around, because she starts flapping her arms as though that will enable her to fly up to the apple, steal it from our hands and put it in her face.

We used to let her gnaw on the apples we were eating, until she figured out that her teeth are excellent at peeling off large, choking-hazard pieces of apple that get lodged in her trachea.  So she’s cut off from sharing our apples, we just bite her off teeny pieces now.  Fortunately that’s usually enough to send her over the moon.

Well, some of Analie’s favorite big kids picked her some apples.  When I showed them to her this morning, she immediately started growling her intimidating MOM PLEASE GIVE ME THAT OBJECT RIGHT AWAY!!!!! growl and flapping her arms like a chicken.

But chickens can’t fly, and neither can Analie.  So I gave her a whole apple to roll around on the floor while I cut her up some tiny pieces for her to feed herself.

She put it straight in her mouth, just like the big people do.

I gave her a few tiny bits of apple to eat, and then planned to turn the rest into applesauce.  She was all about the apple pieces, because these were particularly tasty apples.

She had no less than six apple pieces in her mouth at the time of this photo.  And she stored them in her cheek for safekeeping for about twenty minutes after.

It didn’t take long to make the applesauce, either, and it turned out REALLY good.  Fresh picked apples make all the difference.  I gave her a few more bites and her eyes got very big each time.  So cute.

Analie wanted me to be sure to tell Lauren and Sydney THANK YOU VERY MUCH FOR MY TASTY APPLES!!!  She loved them with all her heart.