Let it Flipping Go

When Malachi first saw Frozen he completely fell in love just like every other child on the face of the planet. He watched it every day for over a week. He learned all the songs. We bought the book. He occupied himself for thirty minutes in the CD section of Barnes and Noble by passionately staring at a cardboard cutout of Anna and Elsa and announcing every 15 seconds, “It’s Fwozen, Mama! See it? Wook, Mama, Fwozen!”

And then all of the sudden he became so terrified of Big Snowman (the ice monster thing) that he wouldn’t even stay in the same room when the movie was on. He’d watch the first twenty minutes, hide when Anna started up the mountain, and not come back until the big snowman died approximately 45 minutes later. He became obsessed. He would flip to the page in his book with a picture of Big Snowman and stare. He had a near panic attack in the car while listening to the sound track. He couldn’t focus on his hot dog in Sam’s because 100 yards away he could see Frozen on approximately 30 flipping TV screens and he knew Big Snowman was coming. I think this trailer accurately sums up his perception of the movie for the last couple months:

So for the past two months we have impatiently and patiently waited, talked logically about how animated objects are just pretend and live in the TV, avoided TV screens where Frozen was playing, and watched other movies. And then, earlier this week, he was ready to try again. It’s possible I bribed him with popcorn, chocolate, Captain Crunch, and a toy from Toys R Us unless you think that’s excessive in which case I’m assuming you probably don’t have kids. He did it, he laughed, he decided Big Snowman is burping when he screams “Don’t come baaaack” and he gives me huge high fives every time he sits through it. He is also no longer afraid of the Wiggles or the Chica Show so hip hip hooooooray. And now we’re back to watching Frozen every day.

I was going to insert some pithy picture to illustrate my feelings about this, but I found this instead and couldn’t stop laughing.

Malachi will only tolerate Pixar movies or other animated films of equal quality. He is not to be bothered by the Jungle Book, Aladdin, Fievel, or even The Little Mermaid. He only wants Cars, Different Cars (Cars 2), Buzz-Woody, Different Buzz-Woody (Toy Story 2), Finding Nemo, or Frozen. He’s also taken to spontaneously quoting lines from these movies and confusing the daylights out of me.

Me: Thanks, buddy.
Malachi: No pwoblem.
Me: No problem, huh? Where’d you learn that?
Malachi: Like Dori says.
Me: Oh, ok.
Malachi: No pwoblem, Mama.
Me: Ok, buddy, go eat your lunch.
Malachi: No pwoblem.

During lunch with a friend, when no one was talking to Malachi he interrupts our conversation to say…
Malachi: You wanna thwow me out the window, Mama?
Me: What? What are you talking about?
Malachi: You wanna thwow me out the window, too?
Me:
Malachi: Like Potato Head say in Buzz-Woody!
Me: Good Lord, Malachi, please don’t say those things in public.

During dinner tonight when conversation lulled.
Malachi: Oh my gosh! Malachi swimmin’ out to sea!

Anytime he is annoyed with anybody.
Malachi: Don’t! Come! Baaaaaaaaaaack!

We’ve actually had to put him in time out for repeatedly screaming “Don’t come back” in my face when I tell him he has to finish his lunch or put his toys away.

Jessie: All you ever talk about is your STUPID Andy!
Malachi: Jessie, say “stupid,” Mama. Dat’s bad.
Me: You’re right, buddy, it is. She should say “silly.”
Malachi: You want to say “silly,” Jessie, ok?

I’m not sure how to wrap up this yawner of a post so…..

Dry Cereal and Alcohol and Quality Television and Run-On Sentences and Run-On Blog Titles

You know you’ve had a long day when you are eating dry Cheerios and drinking champagne before the kids are even in bed. Malachi also has a habit of taking a sip of any drink he sees sitting around, no matter whose it is or how old it is or how long its been sitting in the hot car or whether or not it’s fermented.

“Nummy Mommy soda!”
“All done, Malachi! No more Mommy soda! That’s yucky!”
“No, nummy Mommy soda! More Mommy soda!”
“How about a lollipop?”
“Yay, yahyeepop yay! Hahahahaha ta-da!”

The younger me that swore she’d never bribe her children or sit on the couch and watch TV while they clambered over her feet begging for attention “just” because she was tired (so selfish) would maybe be horrified but hopefully she’d just be amused and assume it was a rare occurrence. Which really, it is, kind of, mostly.

My two-year-old’s new favorite game is called “Smack the baby on the head over and over until Mommy reaches me and throws me in timeout” followed closely by “Push her over onto the floor and laugh.” And said baby is cutting four teeth.

So.

Here’s your violin, please play me a song, because no other mother has ever had it as rough as me.

But it is the Christmas season and my house is all decorated, and every time I pulled a new decoration out of the box Malachi would gasp and whisper “Wow!” in the most perfect wonder-filled kid-voice ever. He likes to spit on my Christmas carousel because it’s the only way he knows how to blow and he wants to get it to spin “me-self!” with out any help from me. And every time he passes one (and I have a LOT), he announces “Nutcwackah!” Naomi is teething and stuffy which = finally letting me rock her to sleep again and actually cuddling with me for more than .5 seconds at a time and I love it soooooo much.

And even though I’m sitting here eating dry Chex (YOLO!) and watching Dirty Dancing for the thirty-somethingth time (I really wish that was an exaggeration) and then subsequently being appalled at the trashy commercials on VH1 (shocker) because apparently I have higher expectations of a channel that would air Dirty Dancing on a regular basis and I don’t know how I was planning on finishing that sentence, but it’s gone on long enough, don’t you think? Anyways, life is good. Good enough that I’ve been living it the past couple weeks instead of blogging about it

But Imma blog it up now. Buckle your seat belts for an overload of drama because if anyone can create enough drama to dedicate an entire online diary to, it’s a stay-at-home-mom. And no, I won’t stop blogging about my kids ever ever because, you know…

Nobody puts baby in a corner.