Photo: The Train Table took a brief hiatus today. Details below.
The price of my 24 hours of sweet, sweet baby-free time?
It started with the littlest bear (read: the one who never eats his fruits and veggies, so he’s just a MAGNET for invading illness), moved over to the bigger one for a minute, then jumped to me.
ME. Remember how I was sick 2 weeks ago? I was JUUUUST enjoying non-stuffy sleeping again! GRRR.
So here I am, coughing and sniffling. Minor is gross and goopy. Major is gross and goopy. And it’s cold outside.
6 school days left and guess what? Ain’t nobody goin’ to school today. Awesome. Such bang for my buck.
So we’re here, we’re stuck in the house, and we’re mean. Just… gross and mean.
My husband, who waltzed out of the house to go to work this morning, is very excited about it all. Why? Being home all day means I have time to make Hawaiian rolls for his already scheduled pulled pork dinner. He was like, yessss. They are on their first rise as I type.
Little boys were in the playroom while I was preparing the dough. Suddenly I hear a crash and laughter. I shrug to myself, get my standing mixer to work. Then another crash and fit of laughter. Now I gots to know.
You know what I find?
Little boys on top of the train table, holding hands, jumping off of it for laughs.
Oh, the cheap thrills of childhood.
So I gotta send one child up the stairs for his time-out and I gotta put the other in the kitchen while I’m finishing my damn dough. And I’m thinking to myself as my kitchenaid is whirling, “if I send them back in there, those two are gonna get right back up on that table.”
Welp, then I remembered that the surface of the table can come off. Thus the photo above. This upset Major more than it upset Minor. (Punishing Minor is going to be a thing…) I brought them both back to the living room and explained the punishment.
“Why are you crying right now?”
Spokesman Major: “Because you broke our train table.”
“I didn’t break it. I took the top off of it. You could break it if you continue the way you are!”
Major: “We can’t use it now…”
Yes, true. “Why did I do that, do you think?”
“Because we weren’t doing what we were supposed to do…”
“What were you doing instead?”
“We were jumping off of it.”
I’ll pause here for a second because I want to type out my appreciation for this conversation. Remember a year ago, when I had a 3 year-old and a 2 year-old? This conversation would have been impossible. It would have been nonsensical blubbery or straight-up mad tantrums. This is… this is going pretty smoothly!
Me: “Right, you were. Is that something we do?”
Me: “Are train tables for jumping?”
Me: “What goes on the train table?”
Spokesman Major: “Uhm, trains… and tracks… and sometimes cars and–”
Excited Minor: “And dump trucks!”
Me: “And are little boys trains, tracks, cars or dump trucks?”
Both, shaking their heads vigorously, “noooooooo!”
“So should little boys be on the train table?”
“Great then. Thank you.” I make my way back toward the kitchen and my bread.
Spokesman Major, very concerned. “But. Uhm. Are you gonna… fix it?”
Now, I should have said no. But we’re all sick. So I nodded my head, picked up the table surface and reinstalled it back in the playroom. Before little boys could run right in, I gave the crazy eye and informed them that if they do it again, I’ll take the table away for the rest of the day.
“That means nap, after nap, dinner, after dinner, while you’re sleeping tonight and even when you first wake up.”
Both boys looked at me like I had threatened to blow up the moon. It was like, whoa.
They looked at each other before they acknowledged my threat. So classic.
There has been no jumping on the table since. Thank God.
Mom gave me some great advice a few weeks ago. She was like, “listen, your job is to make them question every time they want to do something bad. They need to understand that you are crazy and that you can and will punish them when they do something bad. And that whatever the punishment is gonna be, they don’t want it. Mama is so crazy she might make a toy go away forever. You know what I’m saying? It can’t just be timeouts all the time. It has to be something unpredictable.”
I wish I had remembered that last week when I was yelling like a crazy woman all the time. This was much better. Clearly my Mom is a Mama-fu Master.
Nevertheless, it’s a sick day and a rainy day. I’m going to try for a nap, but I bet it will be quite brief. So I’m going to end this post, print some worksheets and pray that my boys nap. If they don’t, Project 3 O’clock might have to start today.
See you Wednesday, dear reader!