Saturday, February 28, 2015

Mrs. Yoy: Too Tired to Conjure Up a Title

Last night totally sucked.

The boys went to bed around 7:30.  I followed suit a little before eleven.

Mr. Yoy got sucked into Netflix's House of Cards and I think he made it to bed sometime after midnight.

Big E came in at some point and asked Mr. Yoy to lay with him in his bed. I was just happy it wasn't me.

Big E returned to our room around 2:30 and wanted to get into our bed.  And this is where the night from hell began.

I cannot sleep in my bed with my offspring.  I know some of you love to cuddle up with your kids and happily sleep the night away.  I am not that mom.  I cannot relax if they are anywhere near me.  I don't want to hear Little E violently sucking his thumb in my ear.  I don't want to smell Big E's rank middle of the night breath.  I want to be left alone.  And once I've been wakened, it takes me at least an hour to fall back asleep.

I told him he was welcome to make a pillow bed on the floor next to me if he wanted to stay in our room.  Big E made a pillow boat.  Every available pillow in our home went down on the floor.  He made sure to speak in his absolute loudest voice.  We weren't at a rock concert, we were sleeping in our quiet home.

He finally settled in around three.  He wasn't sleeping.  He just wasn't shouting. He was whispering weird things to himself in the dark, which is another reason I don't like sharing a bed with him.  I don't need a refresher of the hebrew alphabet whispered violently into my ear all night.

At 3:30 I heard the soft footsteps of my other offspring.  He couldn't sleep and he wanted to get into bed with me.  Little E would not agree to a spot on Big E's pillow boat.  He slowly inched his way into bed.  Big E followed shortly after.  I moved over.  Mr. Yoy abandoned me in our bed with the Yoysers and went to sleep in Little E's bed.  His third different bed of the evening.

After another thirty minutes, I peeked over at them.  They were both wide-eyed, staring at the ceiling.  I rolled out of bed to use the bathroom.  I stepped onto Big E's pillow boat.  Why was the pillow boat wet?  Was it sinking?

Both boys proclaimed their innocence.  I really only suspected Little E because that kid will pee anywhere.  But it was my third child, Poodle Yoy.  She managed to unload on three different pillows and their tasteful pillowcases.  I wanted to shout out the F-word.  But I managed to only scream it internally.

I stripped the pillows and started a load of laundry.  Instead of returning to my bed, I snuck downstairs and laid down on the buttery leather couch.  Maybe this would be my sleep savior.

But it was not to be.  Little E sniffed me out and in his urgency to find me, ran into a doorknob.  Tears and more tears in the darkness.  He made it downstairs. Big E followed.

On went the playroom light.  It was now playtime.  At 4:15.  I gave up my dreams of a sleeper sofa and returned to my bed.  But not before I moved Mr. Yoy back into our room.

The next two hours were a blur.  Little E did try to go back to sleep for about six minutes, but he just couldn't.  The Yoysers played, fought, and ate for the remainder of the night.  We tried to lock them out, but Little E reported back to us every nine minutes about some horrible atrocity Big E was committing.  He was like a human snooze button.

We were too tired to care about the indiscretions happening directly below us.

MATCHES?

STRANGERS?

DRUGS?

Just keep it quiet, that's all we ask.

I didn't want to turn on the television in the middle of the night, because I didn't want to reward this insane behavior.  A little before seven, I finally caved.  They went downstairs and turned on Disney, Jr.

I finally dozed off a little after seven and slept until 9:30.

Today, I am a model of impatience.  I have snarled at my kids numerous times. And I'm too tired to feel badly about it.  Maybe tomorrow.

I'm pretty sure no one in my household met the required amount of sleep last night.

Monday, February 23, 2015

Big E: Gone Boy

This story is about a month old, but I've finally been able to talk about it and not want to vomit.

Mr. Yoy and I have been trying a new discipline technique with Big E.  He is a very strong-willed child who never seems to be affected by consequences.  He has trademarked the term "SO WHAT?!"

Part of our new, more effective, parenting technique is to disengage him when he starts arguing about something that we've already discussed.

This particular evening, we found ourselves at the mall.  I took Little E to return something at Sears.  Mr. Yoy took Big E to return something at Macy's.  The plan was to meet at Ted's for dinner.

Little E and I arrived first and secured a table.  I watched as Mr. Yoy entered the restaurant and waved him down from the back booth.

IS HE BEHIND ME?

Big E had decided that he was NOT going to eat at Ted's.  Instead of arguing over the restaurant, Mr. Yoy just walked in.  Usually, he'll give us some lip, but he always follows like a deflated balloon.

Not that night.  Mr. Yoy immediately ran back outside and Big E was gone.  He had vaporized.

A rush of panic flooded my body.  I grabbed Little E and began escorting him out of the restaurant.  I had to notify mall security, the police, the president of the USA.  Anyone I could.

It was a very busy Sunday evening at the mall.  Next to Ted's was Cheesecake Factory, PF Chang's, and around the corner, Maggiano's.  The restaurants were all packed.  Big E could be anywhere.

My phone rang.  I grabbed it hoping to see Mr. Yoy's number telling me he had found our runaway.

It was a random number.

H-HELLO?  I THINK I HAVE YOUR SON.  HE IS LOST.  I'M IN FRONT OF MAGGIANO'S.

My panic was replaced with relief.  After endlessly thanking this kind lady, I called Mr. Yoy and had him head that way to retrieve Big E.

OH, HEY DAD.

THAT is what Big E said when Mr. Yoy walked up to him.  He was not at all frightened or concerned that instead of a nice lady, a creepy, child-molesting perv could have found him first.  He just didn't want to eat at Ted's so he was looking for a better choice for himself.  No big deal, right?  I mean he is an old six.  And he has three dirty pennies in his back pocket.

For the record, Big E had JUST memorized my phone number after my mom told him a story about my cousin getting lost at Disney World.  It blew his mind and he immediately committed my number to memory.

Which is great, because up until then, he thought my number was 272, also the station for Disney Junior.



Big E: Curtain Call

Hi, it's me.   Mrs. Yoy.   I'm still here, I'm just going through some life stresses and it has killed my desire to write.

But here goes nothing...

Big E turned six in November.  By my count, he is well on his way to being 6.5, which sounds very old to me.  Except he is still completely reliant upon me for most things.  I think he is capable of many tasks, but I'm either too impatient or too Type A to allow this to happen.

He was pretty tired after dinner and he wanted to get cleaned up and go to sleep. I told him he was allowed to go upstairs and start a bath for himself while I waited for Little E to finish eating.


Big E made his way upstairs.  I heard him walk into the bathroom, flip on the lights, and then CRASH!

And then crying.

I bolted up the stairs.  Even though I can barely walk from this morning's workout, I bounded up the stairs two at a time.

Big E was tangled up in the shower curtain.  The rod had come out of the wall. He was more frightened than injured.

I began to giggle.  Not because I like to see my offspring in distress.  But because it took me back many years.  At least ten, maybe more.

I had been out drinking with my friends and a bunch of us had come back to our apartment to crash.  For one of my friends, who shall remain anonymous, she crashed for real.

She lost her balance in my roommate's bathroom.  In a falling panic she reached out for the shower curtain and brought everything down with it.  We giggled for hours about it.

And at this moment, as my son is trying to untangle himself from the shower curtain of death, this is all I can think of.

Tuesday, February 10, 2015

Mrs. Yoy: Impeccable Timing

Today I was mystery reader for Big E's class.

The plan was to do a Navy Seal sneak in, read to the class, and sneak out.  No tears. No drama.

I signed in at the front desk and turned down the Kindergarten/Pre-K hallway. There was a class of older kids filing into the art room.  On the opposite side of the hall was another class heading into the computer lab.

And perfectly placed, directly in my line of sight at the far end of the hallway, was Little E.  Returning from a trip to the bathroom during his class's rest time.

I froze.  Did he see me?  I tried to duck behind some second graders, but who am I kidding?  I'm six feet tall.  I cursed my wardrobe decision.  Why had I not worn my camouflage? Alas, there was no where to run.

Ok, play it cool, Mrs. Yoy.

MAMA!  MAMA!

Like a perfectly calibrated missile, Little E located his target, me.  He was so happy to see me.  He lunged at me, grabbed onto my leg and hung on for dear life.

LITTLE E, I HAVE TO GO TO BIG E'S CLASSROOM.  I'M MYSTERY READER TODAY.

This was not a problem for Little E.  He was coming with me.  Which was fine, I just wanted him to tell his teacher.

Little E opened the door and I waved to his teacher and mouthed "BUSTED!"

I took Little E into kindergarten and he was very well behaved.  When I had finished reading I told Little E to go back to his classroom.  I was expecting a fall down on the floor, academy award winning performance.  But he just said ok and went back to class.  This was HUGE for him.  Big E also was very nonchalant about me leaving and I made eyes at his teacher and got the hell out of there. Pronto.  I thought there was a 100% chance that I was leaving school early with two Yoys.

Instead, I came home and got to work.  Folding laundry and watching Fixer Upper. My work here is never done.