My Child Fell Asleep With What?

Most children have a special toy or blanket that they snuggle up with to drift off to sleep every night.  My child, on the other hand, finds random things to sleep with.  When I go to check on my sleeping child at night, it’s not uncommon for me to find him snuggled up to an art project or a chocolate bunny, but last night’s find was –to say the least-interesting and quite alarming.

Guess what you think is on his headboard next to his Mickey Mouse Sippy cup...

Here is a close-up.  My child fell asleep with a personal breathalyzer on his headboard next to his "bedtime drink." I'm pretty sure I may be the worst parent ever- or best for making sure my child holds himself accountable. (No driving your Hot-wheels under the influence.) But I guess we won't find that out for years to come. :)

Uniquely Odd and Disturbing Art Project

Lately, my child has fallen in love with art projects.  Interestingly enough, but not surprising, his projects are turning out to be a little (How do I say this nicely without causing long term damage to his self-esteem?) uniquely odd and disturbing.  Don’t get me wrong, I want to encourage Chase’s artistic flare- but come on child, I can only pretend this is normal for so long. 

It all started this weekend when Cory’s mother gave Chase a haircut.  Most children would get their hair cut and move on with their day.  But not my child.  What did Chase want to do with his curly locks that covered the floor in heaps?  He wanted to save his golden locks for an art project (completely his idea). And no, I’m not joking.  He literally looked at the hair and thought to himself- Well this looks like a great start to an art project.

Seriously, an art project with your own hair?  And to top it off, he felt the need to add googly eyes to the hair.  Isn't this how most serial killers started out?  Making art projects with body parts? 

Chase entitled this project, “Little Pretend Chases.” (You can't make this stuff up.)   

My Purse

Today I decided to clean out my purse and I was horrified by the strange things I found in them.  It got me thinking about what my purse looks like now, as a mother, and what my purse used to look like when I wasn’t a mother.  Below are the differences (in poem form of course, because frankly, who can resist a poem?):

I once had a cute purse that I would clutch under my arm as I trotted into the bar,

Now, I have a mom purse flung over my shoulder so it won’t go far.

My purse was once filled with hair spray, make-up and lip gloss,

It is now filled with child friendly snacks like smashed Captain Crunch and a month old banana that I’m sure is full of moss.

My purse is now a desired toy and I just shake my head when I see it hanging from a tree,

 As I watch my nephews cheer with glee.

It is the keeper of quarters for every crane game,

And as I dig for quarters I wonder; will my purse ever be the same?

My purse has transformed not by choice, but because I do things I’m told.

And because of that, my purse is now a holder of all things desired by a three year old.

One day I hope my little guy falls in love with his very own murse,

So I can, once again, have back my purse.  

Side note: A “Murse” is a man-purse.

Happy Sunday- Enjoy your week!