Where there’s noise…

via Daily Prompt: Noise

It is not very often that my home is quiet. Typically the only times there’s an iota of silence is when everyone is finally in bed for the night and even then my mom radar picks up on every sigh, cough and reposition.

I struggle with anxiety and sometimes the noise of my home can be so overwhelming that I can actually feel the pressure of it. During those times you would think that silence would be a welcome change. But alas, silence with a toddler can be worse than all the noise in the world. At least when there’s noise, you have an idea of the trouble they’re causing.

When your toddler gets quiet, you have no idea what to expect – unless the smell reaches you before you have the chance to realize they’ve been too quiet.

The scent of what I can only assume is what a Jersey Shore frat house would smell like wafted into the nursery where I was changing O. Why did I believe I could change the baby on the changing table without consequences? The overwhelming smell of Axe body spray infiltrated my nostrils. My eyes began to water. INSTANT migraine. How much did he spray that I could smell it that strongly from two rooms away?! Answer. The entire sample size bottle.

I walked out into the living room, baby on my hip, and became so overpowered by the scent that I immediately opened the front door to air out the house despite the balmy weather outside.

He found the sample that his brother had gotten at the hockey expo this past weekend. And because he seems to be some type of mischievious evil genius, he was able to figure out how to twist it open and spray it. Everywhere. He stood behind our couch with his hands behind his back trying to hide the evidence.

“G? Whatcha got there?”

Worst thing to ask a spirited toddler EVER. Did G think it would be a fantastic idea to hand over the evidence of his smelly actions? Of course not. He thought it would be a fantastic idea to RUN. And what I thought HAD to be an empty spray bottle at this point, definitely was NOT. As I’m trying to stop him, he’s spraying more of this guido in a bottle and at this point the tiny molecules of douche spray are making their way into my mouth as I yell for him to STOP!

I finally caught up to him and grab the bottle and find it is now empty. Between what he sprayed before getting caught and what he sprayed after getting caught I’m pretty sure that there’s more on him than in the house. And let’s not forget that in my hot pursuit, I’ve managed to get enough on me to accidentally attract some quaffed haired guidette.

Shower time.

Moral of the story here ladies and gents… silence is not always golden. Especially if you have a toddler and ESPECIALLY if you’re sensitive to smells.

 

well hi there… how you doin’?

Man, beginning a blog is a tricky thing. Where do you start? I feel like I’m setting up a dating profile or something.

Mom of 3, Stepmom of 1, wife seeking readers to peruse her quirky blog about daily battles with a snuggly infant who hates sleep, a spirited toddler and two adolescents who truly believe they’re already teenagers. YAY!

Interested?

Being a boy mom and a wife is not the for the faint of heart. I can tell you that much. I’ve been with my husband for nearly 7 years, married for 3. He has an almost 11 year old, I have an almost 9 year old and together we have an almost 3 year old and almost 1 year old. Don’t forget about the boxer mix and cat. My home is nearly always like an episode of Looney Tunes…. the Tasmanian Devil just spun his way through an antique store that’s attached to a china shop and ends his path going through a hospital nursery waking all of the sleeping newborns. In all seriousness, the toddler is currently running around with no clothes on and the infant has been following me and whining because he’s teething.

Honestly, I sat down with my cup of coffee this morning thinking “I could do an intro post this morning.” Why would I think that? hahahahahahaha I must be crazy. At this moment I can hear G screaming for me from across the house because he needs me to see that he’s going potty just so the second I enter the doorway he can tell me “GO AWAY MAMA!” Oh, and here comes O… he’s crawling with the speed of a cheetah on a hunt, whining for me to pick him up. And Mr. B just wants to ask me a hundred and two questions about absolute nothing.

Let’s get this morning rolling, huh?