Merry Hallowthanksmas! It’s that time of year, right? While I intended to write much more about our Halloween, Thanksgiving and upcoming Christmas shenanigans, I’ve found that having two kids under the age of three brings a certain “busyness” to your life (this is where you either laugh into your wine or cry into your coffee, depending on the time of day and how many unmatched toddler and baby socks are currently surrounding you – DO THESE THINGS MULTIPLY IN THE DRYER?!)
Since Halloween was 15 years and 172 cups of coffee ago, I’ll just say it was awesome and full of delicious candy. The best part of Halloween? Miles doesn’t eat chocolate candy that has “stuff” in it. Which means I was able to eat Snickers, Kit-Kats, Reese’s, Milky Ways, Baby Ruths, Three Muskateers and Peanut M&Ms for breakfast every single day for three weeks (my dentist loves me).
So, Thanksgiving. This year we kept it low-key, and had a Friendsgiving with some of our most favorite people. Everyone shared in cooking and baking; it was awesome, and the easiest holiday meal we’ve ever hosted. Friendsgiving FOREVER.
There are a few things that your toddler can only bring to your attention on Thanksgiving Eve, though:
- My turkey baster has been used as a bathtub toy for the better part of 2015. So…secret turkey flavoring!
- The only measuring utensils I have are for a tablespoon, ¾ teaspoon and 2/3 cup, and let’s get real: those last two are never used, ever. Where did the rest of my measuring spoons and cups go? GOOD QUESTION (side-eye to the Batcave in the living room making a funny noise when I shake it).
- Someone hid the green beans in the laundry basket.
- It’s a good idea to buy several bags of mini-marshmallows; not that someone would eat an entire bag, but someone could very well lick all of the marshmallow powder off and then put the marshmallows back in the bag. Hey, did you try those Rice Krispie Treats I made last week?
The day after Thanksgiving we picked up our Christmas tree. Miles chased several Christmas tree patrons around the tent waving his “sword” (tree branch) and declaring they could not pass down the aisles. En guard.
The tree looks great. No one has knocked it over, Miles has managed to keep the lights out of the tree stand (it’s not until you have children that you fully understand that you’re putting a tree in a giant bowl of water then covering it in electrical lights) and Grant has only eaten a handful of pine needles (fiber).
So now let’s talk about Vaseline, which has nothing to do with the festive season but has everything to do with my sanity.
At 5:30am last Tuesday, the yell came through the baby monitor: “Mama, come in! Mama, come in!” Miles knows he still has a baby monitor in his room, and he does usually call out if he needs something (we haven’t hit the “wandering around the house at 3am for no reason” stage as of yet). He doesn’t normally wake up until closer to 7a, though. I thought maybe it was a bad dream, or that he lost his blanket, or that his gray teddy bear was touching his white teddy bear (all valid reasons he has expressed in the past). I was up, so I went in to check on him.
If you’ve ever used Vaseline, you know that the stuff they keep in the baby aisle is usually scented. It’s a very pleasant, yet distinguishable, scent. When I walked into Miles’ dark bedroom, I noticed there was a familiar smell in the air. I had yet to turn on the light.
I went to Miles and touched his shoulder. I noticed his pajamas felt different; odd, really. There was a clamminess to them, but not really damp, more sticky than anything. I thought, “Huh, that’s weird.” So I touched his leg and noticed the same feeling. Because it was dark and early, and I’d had no coffee, my deductive skills were lacking.
“Miles, what’s on your pajamas?” The response: silence. I touched his blanket – same weird feeling.
“Miles, what’s on your blanket?!” And still: SILENCE.
I turned on the light and gasped at the sight before me – had Slimer entered the room overnight?! What on earth was all this goo everywhere?!
Then I spied the enormous, and previously full, tub of Vaseline in Miles’ bed. I knew it was now empty because there was a monster truck jammed in the tub. The contents had been smeared on every stuffed animal, pillow, blanket and sheet in his bed. Then I looked at Miles.
I noticed his pajamas, and their glue stick-like quality. I noticed his shiny, dewy cheeks, hands and feet. But most of all, I noticed his hair, and all the varying directions in which it was pointing. Miles had covered himself from head to toe in Vaseline.
The look on my face must have been that of shock/horror/stifling laughter. I wasn’t quite sure how to react, because my brain was continuously processing all of the items covered in goo.
“MAMA, WHAT HAPPENED?!”
Then I lost it. I laughed uncontrollably while trying to explain that Vaseline isn’t a toy. In my head, I cursed myself for forgetting the tub of it in his room the night before.
After scrubbing his entire body and his hair no less than four times with Dawn dishsoap, Miles declared morning baths to be “the most fun EVER.” After three turns through the wash, his bedding and animals have returned to normal. When I dropped him off at school, I explained to his teacher why he may have a lingering baby fresh scent for the next six weeks.
It was, all in all, one of those moments that will turn into a favorite story to tell in company and to his future girlfriend. It was also a moment of thankfulness, because of all the things a toddler could smear on themselves, this was a pretty good choice.