I would say that last week made for interesting blog fodder. I was asked to leave a building, I had a life size Edward Cullen cutout in my apartment for a few hours (sweet bliss), I enjoyed my first massage (heavenly bliss), and (drum roll please) I set the fire alarm off in our building. This post will be dedicated to the last item on the list.
Eli is in love with pancakes, so I have been making them every morning for the last couple weeks. Let's be honest, I am in love with pancakes, too. And syrup. Delicious, pancreas destroying syrup. Mmmmmm....syrup. What? Oh yeah...this post. Aaaanyway, I decided to make some sausage with our pancakes last Friday.
So, cooking the pancakes, cooking the sausage. Feeling so proud of my domesticity. And then my pride was all, "dude, I'm here now, but guess what's coming next?" I lifted the lid to the cooking sausage to discover they were starting to burn. No problem, just take them off the heat...and we'll be okaBEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Our smoke detector went off. No problem. Except that our smoke detector tripped the building's fire alarm. The BUILDING! The alarm was going off in the whole building. The dorm building that houses 200+ slumbering college students. The fire alarm was going off at 8:30 in the morning, which is like 5:00 a.m. to college students, right? Oh, and it's mid-January, so the weather outside was slightly frightful.
So Ben goes out and tries to get the alarm to shut off, but the smoke detector in our apartment was still detecting smoke, so he couldn't. I should also mention that someone thought it would be a great idea to put a smoke detector two feet away from our stove. What the what?
Students, mid-REM sleep, are groggily filing out of the building into the blustery morning air (many of them wearing shorts), cursing me with their eyes. At least that's how I felt. In reality, though, nobody, aside from Ben, Eli and...THE POLICE CHIEF who was the first to respond to the alarm, knew it was because of me. That's right...THE POLICE CHIEF. Because friends, when an alarm goes off in a dorm building, the fire department is immediately notified.
Oh, also, I'm in my pajamas with my sleepy face on. It's really pretty. You may have seen it when you passed gross road kill that one time...gross road kill and my morning face bear an uncanny resemblance. Oh, and Eli is freaking out because something is making an ear-wrenching sound and it isn't him.
So then...the FIRE TRUCK PULLS UP! So...to recap: students filing out of building at 8:30 a.m., police chief on scene, three maintenance guys on scene, sleepy road kill face on display, ear-splitting alarm going off, toddler terrified, fire truck on scene.
Luckily, Ben is on the fire department, so they all know us and thought it was funny. Not haha funny, but your wife can't cook funny. They just kind of laughed it off, the alarm was reset, students grumbled back into the building, and the burnt sausage was tossed in the trash. Ben was super awesome about the whole thing. However, I'm not expecting any friend requests from the residents in our building.
Tuesday, January 25, 2011
Monday, January 24, 2011
Elijah Parker: The Piccolo Pete of South Central Michigan - 23 Months
This month, my lovely, has been loud, frustrating, embarrassing and wonderful. We've been asked to leave an academic building, you learned to base jump climb out of your crib and split your lip open in the process, the stomach flu hit you with its best shot, you experienced your second Christmas and, on the diabetic front, you discovered M & Ms.
Let's start with being asked to leave the academic building. This past month you've developed this habit wherein you scream when you don't get your way and/or are hungry. Now, I've mentioned that you scream in previous updates, but nothing compares to the unabashed sound you now make. I've started referring to you as my piccolo pete. For those of you unfamiliar with this ear-wrenching product, I've copied the urban dictionary definition:
The other night we were at a restaurant, and you just kept screaming (due to hunger) and you wouldn't stop. I took you out of the restaurant a few times to talk you off your ledge, but you would come right back in and scream. I overheard a teenager telling you to shut-up. When she saw that I heard her say it, she averted her eyes in shame...that's right, girly...avert those eyes. No one tells my kid to shut-up even if it is warranted!! Got it?! I digress. Once an angel from the lord delivered our food, and you inhaled three pieces of pizza, you were fine.
THEN. Last week, our friend Sara was taking your two year old pictures. I decided we might get some good pics in the Pohling Center, which is an academic building on campus at SAU. You were pretty well behaved at the beginning. We were in the stairwell, taking some shots of you playing with your trains and climbing up and down the stairs. You would make the occasional yelps of merriment with a sporadic frustrated screech. Students were out and about taking a break from classes. Life was beautiful. And then...darkness descended. You were done taking pictures, and you decided to let us and the whole building know with a rendition of some death metal song. Sara helped me get you down from the stairs, and we prepared to leave while you were screeching. And then, my parent-of-the-year award was delivered by a trying-to-be-as-nice-as-possible-even-though-he-was-clearly-frustrated professor who told us we were disrupting classes and could we please leave. A.w.e.s.o.m.e. Before you, dear reader, point your duh finger at me, let me just say, I know my child was being disruptive, which is why we were trying to leave...okay? Also, he's two...so just...you know...go tell your mom.
So, there's that.
In other awesome news, you learned to climb out of your crib. The first night was after an aftershock throw up. A few nights earlier, you were horribly sick, throwing up every 15 minutes for several hours. It was torture to watch you feel so miserable. It was a 24 hour thing, and you were very soon back to your normal self. A few days later, I think we overdid it with the food and you threw up again. It was just once. But, I decided to sleep in your room on the air mattress just in case you did it again. Big mistake. While I was trying to fall asleep, you were going through your word repertoire, firing out every word you knew...you know, to impress me. Then, when I turned my back to you, you landed on me pile-driver style. It was the first time you had successfully climbed out of your crib. Needless to say, you were delighted.
Fast forward to a few nights later to a lapse in my parental judgment. Grandma and Grandpa Parker were staying over, which delighted you to your very core, and then, here comes the lapse, I gave you a cupcake at 8:00...AT NIGHT. So, the fact that gma and gpa were over compounded with the overdose of sugar made bed time super fun. Twenty minutes after we put you down, you came walking down the hall like it was normal. "Hey everybody, whatcha you doing? Watching a movie? That's cool. Can I have some popcorn? No?" At least that's what you would have said if you had my inner-monologue going on. We put you back in, you got back out. We let you try to fall asleep with us...you thought it was time to party. We put you back in your crib, you began to scream. We heard a horrible thump...louder screaming. I rushed in and found you on the floor with a split lip and bruised face. So, we tried the toddler bed for .0087 seconds until we realized we'd rather be forced to watch Glitter. Your father, in his infinite wisdom, decided to buy us some time and turned your crib around (you know, because the back is higher than the front). Which seems to be working....for now.
You are not stingy with the kisses and hugs either. Last week, we met Aunt Carrie for dinner. When you saw her waiting for us, you screamed "Ca-wie!!" When we started to get ready to leave, you kept giving her kisses and hugs. It made me want to stop time. You love when your Auntie Em comes to visit. Whenever I say to you, "Guess who's coming over today?" you shout "Emimmy!!!" (Emily) You love your grandparents. The other day we were in downtown Jackson and you kept shouting, "Papa! Papa! Papa!" (grandpa). So we stopped by at his work to say hi. You were in heaven. There's nothing more thrilling for you than a trip to see gaga and papa (both mine and your dad's parents). Usually, you are laughing, dancing, telling a good joke. You definitely love life.
Let's start with being asked to leave the academic building. This past month you've developed this habit wherein you scream when you don't get your way and/or are hungry. Now, I've mentioned that you scream in previous updates, but nothing compares to the unabashed sound you now make. I've started referring to you as my piccolo pete. For those of you unfamiliar with this ear-wrenching product, I've copied the urban dictionary definition:
A small tube firework that emits a loud, piercing screech for about 30 seconds. Very loud and annoying. Can be used to make homemade fireworks.My friend, it is the.MOST.annoying sound in the universe. It sounds as if I am removing one of your vital organs without the aid of anesthesia. Also, it's really embarrassing. I know you know it's embarrassing. You look at me with this knowing look right before you do it...much like the look I'll give you right before I do the worm at your senior prom. When we're at home, you have to sit in your time out chair for two minutes when you do it. We'll come to get you, you say "sawwey, mama" (sorry, mama), you come out to play, you make the same sound 5 minutes later, you go back in your chair. It's a dance we have mastered beautifully. When we're out and about, though, I sadly cannot bring the time out chair with me. And you know it.
The other night we were at a restaurant, and you just kept screaming (due to hunger) and you wouldn't stop. I took you out of the restaurant a few times to talk you off your ledge, but you would come right back in and scream. I overheard a teenager telling you to shut-up. When she saw that I heard her say it, she averted her eyes in shame...that's right, girly...avert those eyes. No one tells my kid to shut-up even if it is warranted!! Got it?! I digress. Once an angel from the lord delivered our food, and you inhaled three pieces of pizza, you were fine.
THEN. Last week, our friend Sara was taking your two year old pictures. I decided we might get some good pics in the Pohling Center, which is an academic building on campus at SAU. You were pretty well behaved at the beginning. We were in the stairwell, taking some shots of you playing with your trains and climbing up and down the stairs. You would make the occasional yelps of merriment with a sporadic frustrated screech. Students were out and about taking a break from classes. Life was beautiful. And then...darkness descended. You were done taking pictures, and you decided to let us and the whole building know with a rendition of some death metal song. Sara helped me get you down from the stairs, and we prepared to leave while you were screeching. And then, my parent-of-the-year award was delivered by a trying-to-be-as-nice-as-possible-even-though-he-was-clearly-frustrated professor who told us we were disrupting classes and could we please leave. A.w.e.s.o.m.e. Before you, dear reader, point your duh finger at me, let me just say, I know my child was being disruptive, which is why we were trying to leave...okay? Also, he's two...so just...you know...go tell your mom.
So, there's that.
Fast forward to a few nights later to a lapse in my parental judgment. Grandma and Grandpa Parker were staying over, which delighted you to your very core, and then, here comes the lapse, I gave you a cupcake at 8:00...AT NIGHT. So, the fact that gma and gpa were over compounded with the overdose of sugar made bed time super fun. Twenty minutes after we put you down, you came walking down the hall like it was normal. "Hey everybody, whatcha you doing? Watching a movie? That's cool. Can I have some popcorn? No?" At least that's what you would have said if you had my inner-monologue going on. We put you back in, you got back out. We let you try to fall asleep with us...you thought it was time to party. We put you back in your crib, you began to scream. We heard a horrible thump...louder screaming. I rushed in and found you on the floor with a split lip and bruised face. So, we tried the toddler bed for .0087 seconds until we realized we'd rather be forced to watch Glitter. Your father, in his infinite wisdom, decided to buy us some time and turned your crib around (you know, because the back is higher than the front). Which seems to be working....for now.
(Parenting Lapse Exhibit A)
Aside from the screaming, though, you grow more and more wonderful every second. You love to help out around the house. Every time I unload the dishwasher, you're there to help...and we've only broken one dish in the process. You'll push the vacuum for me, throw things away, help me load the washing machine. You're the most adorable personal assistant. 
(helping dad)
It's important to stay hydrated.
You are not stingy with the kisses and hugs either. Last week, we met Aunt Carrie for dinner. When you saw her waiting for us, you screamed "Ca-wie!!" When we started to get ready to leave, you kept giving her kisses and hugs. It made me want to stop time. You love when your Auntie Em comes to visit. Whenever I say to you, "Guess who's coming over today?" you shout "Emimmy!!!" (Emily) You love your grandparents. The other day we were in downtown Jackson and you kept shouting, "Papa! Papa! Papa!" (grandpa). So we stopped by at his work to say hi. You were in heaven. There's nothing more thrilling for you than a trip to see gaga and papa (both mine and your dad's parents). Usually, you are laughing, dancing, telling a good joke. You definitely love life.
Dancin' it up with your New Year's Dates
It's wonderful to know that there are so many people that care for and love you. You will never want for love and affection. What a blessing that you get to grow up in a world like that. What a blessing to know that there are Godly people in your life who want nothing but the best for you. I am humbled by so much love. And I am humbled by you, my sweet boy. My heart is full. 
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