Tub Trauma

Sometimes, the only way that mommy gets to see her favorite tv shows is for daddy to strategically give Rachel a bath during that time period. Last night was one of those nights.

When she was a baby, Rachel used to wail in protest when it was time for a bath. But now that she is a hip toddler, she's changed her tune. One of the turning points was our purchase of water soluble markers so she could draw to her heart's content on the inside of the bathtub. The Ries Family...Creating Tomorrow's Graffiti Artists Today!

Still, variety is the spice of life. My wife bought these disposable hand mitts for bathtub use. When they come into contact with water, they show Rachel what a bubble bath really is. Prior to this, she shouted "I'm making a bubble bath!" only when tinkling or pooting in the tub. (Funny how that never was listed on the "Sugar and Spice and Everything Nice" Warranty.)

At any rate, Rachel received two of the hand mitts and daddy took one. Our first crisis was when I carefully washed her forehead, only to hear Baby Oedipus cry out. "Eyes! Eyes! Eyes! Eyes!"

I quickly grabbed the Hello Kitty towel and tried to stem the sting. The problem was, Rachel kept rubbing her eyes with her hands, which were covered with the mitts, which were covered in soap.

After successfully convincing her to let daddy do it, things proceeded as usual. Rachel enjoyed the bubbles and broke up in laughter as I washed her underarms.

We finally came to shampoo time. Rachel has a lot of hair and it tends to tangle and get foodstuffs caught in it on a fairly regular basis. So I meticulously tried to work out the snags and snarls while she enjoyed playing with the bubbles. It took three handfuls of shampoo to get everything in good shape.

Now I took her blue scoop and began to pour water on her hair. She tilted her head back and we got most of it off the top of her head. But the side of her head and especially the back looked like a soap bubble dish, only without the magic wand. The shampoo wasn't coming out. Or maybe it did and the soapy water remained.

I yelled out to my wife for advice and she said, "Use the sink!" Duh! So I filled the blue scoop with sink water and tossed it on the back of Rachel's hair. Rachel let out a big yelp! Oops! I forgot to make sure the water was warm.

I kid you not, my child leaped out of the bathtub like she was shot from a cannon. A naked blur sped out of the bathroom and streaked (literally) into the living room, shouting, "Mama!"

I walked out with a cockeyed grin on my face and said, "My fault. I poured cold water on her." We decided a shower was a better option.

I drained the tub, but it took several tries, because I couldn't get all the lather off the skid-free mat. Finally, I was successful.

I turned on the shower and this time, I made sure the water was warm. My wife brought Rachel back in the bathroom.

"No! No! No! No!" Rachel shouted.

"Sweetheart, do you want me to go in there with you?" my wife asked gently.

"No! No! No! No!"

We lifted her in anyway. I held the Waterpik nozzle in my hand and sprayed the soap off as quickly as I could. I then enveloped her in a towel, obeying her preference to "wrap me up like a newspaper."

I apologized to her later as she asked, "It was an accident?"

"Yes, daddy made a mistake."

And now it's time to come clean. It's time to retire the hand mitts.

Now You See It.....

She thinks I don't see it. Rachel and I are at lunch today and several times, she comes over and slings her right arm around my neck and gives me a hug. She thinks I don't see her picking up my french fries with her left arm.

Little People

They look so wholesome and non-threatening at first glance. They have names like any one of us....Sonya Lee, Sarah Lynn, Michael, Eddie, Freddie and Maggie. They are an inch tall, but wield the power of giants with the toddler set.

They are Little People, made by Fisher-Price. They are just that, Little Plastic People with a hole in the bottom so toddlers can use them as finger puppets to manipulate mommy and daddy.

"I want Little People on the farm!"

"I'm not leaving without my Little People."

"Where is Maggie in the dress?"

They look inocuous. They are evil.

First of all, they come in these little boxes where they are kept in place by insiduous twistie-ties, scotch tape and plastic holders that keep them bound like Geisha Girls (thus marking the first and only instance that Little People and Geisha Girls will ever be uttered in the same sentence.) I don't know who packs them, but Harry Houdini, David Copperfield and David Blaine together would be just as powerless as most parents to free Little People from their boxed prisons.

Once the Little People are out of their package a couple of hours later, they move on to the next phase of their existence. They huddle up and in complete disregard to their personal safety, they spread out all over the carpet and floor. This strategic disbursement enables them to inflict the maximum amount of pain to any adult walking through the living room with an armful of laundry and stockinged feet.

YEOW! Another successful Little People injury. I swear the little buggers exchange winks of joy and upraised thumbs with innocent acting toddler accomplices.

As if that's not enough, there are also Little People Music CD's. The Little People teach your toddler about numbers and teach them not to worry, be happy and once they're happy and they know it, they should clap their hands. I'm sitting here worried about stretching my paycheck to make sure I can pay bills and they're telling me I have misplaced my priorities. The Hokey Pokey is what it's all about!

Before I even have my toddler strapped into her car seat, before I've even turned the key in the ignition, she's screaming, "Little People cd! Little People Cd! LITTLE PEOPLE CD!" It's like Night of the Living Dead as she clutches her metal Hello Kitty purse filled with (do you have to ask?") Little People.

Once at the top of the hour, I told Rachel that daddy would play the Little People CD as soon as he heard the news. "I have to hear the news for my job." I explained. "I have to hear the Little People for my job!" she replied. I wasn't aware toddler was a job classification. I hope she lists them as dependents on her 1040 Form.

Oh, I admit it. The songs are catchy, at least the first 415 times you hear them. They start to wear after that. You start noticing that Sarah Lynn has a giggling problem. She must be nervous or have lower self-esteem than the rest. And then it hits you, "Heavens to Betsy! I'm psychoanalyzing Little People!"

Just to change things up a bit, I put the cd on random play one day. At least I wouldn't know what order the songs would play. About three songs into it came a thunderclap of protest from the backseat. "No, I wanna hear 'Doe a Deer.'"
Toddlers are creatures of habit. She knew I had changed the order. This was unacceptable.

I know this is small of me, but I'd like just one day where Little People aren't part of my life. Is that too much to ask? OW! What's that under my foot?

Head Lice (Ewwwww!)

Well, we can scratch another one off the list of childhood events to experience. Instead of "Someone's in the Kitchen with Dinah", we'll call it, "Someone in the Pre-K has head lice."

Yep, there we were Monday. All the kids were dressed up in costume for the Jewish Holiday of Purim and they had to wait in line before entering the classroom until school personnel could meticulously check each of their scalps.

Most of the Queen Esthers took it in stride, but Spiderman burst into tears. I really need to reread the Bible. I can't remember Spiderman's role in the Book of Esther!

At any rate, Rachel took it in stride, although she did try to bolt a couple of times into her nearby classroom. I told the scalp checkers that I doubted they'd find any head lice, but had I not washed Rachel's hair the night before, they probably would have found remnants of her last five meals. A little queso here, some spaghetti there, some yogurt on the side....you just never know when you might need a quick snack and not have access to the refrigerator!

Toddler Logic

Rachel has had a runny nose for about two weeks now. Her doctor is changing offices and is out of pocket for about three weeks. So we're trying to treat it with a mixture of Benadryl and Children's Tylenol.

Tonight, my wife gave her the cup when I called. In the middle of the conversation, she asked Rachel whether she took her medicine.

I hear Rachel reply, "No, I poured it down the sink."

Exasperated, my wife asked, "Why did you do that?"

Rachel answered, "Drinking medicine is rude."



Also, an update on a previous blog. Rachel continued to take off her pullups in her crib. As soon as she felt wetness, off they came.

So now it's pullups during the day...diapers in the crib.

Identity Crisis

I've always known my daughter is a deep thinker. I mean, she's been contemplating her navel since she was six months old.

Now that she is the ripe old age of three, her lifelong search to figure out who she is has reached new heights.

Recently, we had just finished eating dinner. The restaurant was closing. The barstools were lined up away from the bar for cleanup. Being the adventurous tyke she is, Rachel wanted to walk across the barstools and then make her way back.

The bartender, drawn in by Rachel's porcelain face and beautiful hair, decided to strike up a conversation.

"Hello, little girl! You sure are pretty! What's your name?"

"Ray-chuh," came the reply.

"What is it?" the bartender asked.

I tell her. "It's Rachel."

"Hi Rachel!" she says enthusiastically.

"No, not Rachel!" replies my daughter. "Ray-chuh!!"

I shake my head. "This is something new with her."

"My name is not Rachel," she repeats. "It's Ray-chuh."


Later that night, I walk into the bathroom. Rachel is on her stepstool. She is stalling having to brush her teeth by making faces at herself and laughing at them.

"What are you doing?" I asked.

"I'm acting like Rachel!" is the reply.

"You're not acting like Rachel!" I say. "You ARE Rachel!"

Kind of a Drag

Here is the latest entry to the growing list of stories that could "Only Happen to My Wife."

This is not to be confused with the growing list of stories that could "Only Happen to Me."

My wife and daughter decided to go to Roaster's for lunch this afternoon. The chicken there is delicious and to be honest, I've never eaten anything bad at that restaurant.

Of course, at some point, Rachel decides she's had enough to eat and fixates on a table across from where she and mommy are sitting. She gets up to stretch her legs, no doubt to check whether service is satisfactory at the other tables and to expand her role as Goodwill Ambassador to the World.

While Rebecca hastily packs to-go containers, Rachel tries to engage the table of four women in conversation. At some level, I'm sure she wanted them to revel in the wonder that is Rachel.

Tiring of Rachel's wanderlust, Rebecca gets up to grab her. She apologizes to the table for our daughter's rambunctiousness.

It is only then that my wife realizes Rachel has been checking out four drag queens! As my wife returns to her table, thinking "this can only happen to me", the drag queens titter. Or perhaps more accurately, fake titter.

Rachel's Trip Up The Creek

There is trouble in River City and trouble is spelled R-A-C-H-E-L! She's really gone and done it this time, Ollie. She crossed the line and paid the price.

These days, she enjoys taking off her clothes and changing into something else. The problem is, last night she changed out of her shorts and her pull up pants in her crib into her birthday suit.

She then proceded to "mark her territory" on the sheets, with residual leakage making its way down the crib onto the carpet and throw rug below.

Not cool! Even more not cool when daddy stepped into a puddle in his socks.

We had warned her before that she needed to curtail her Paris Hilton tendencies.
Now we had to back it up with discipline.

So, her beloved Little People went on a field trip...to daddy's underwear drawer. Michael, Sonya Lee, Eddie, Freddie, Maggie, Sarah Lynn, Farmer Jed, Jack and the Jewish Hannukah family dubbed the Goldsteins by my wife may never be the same.

In addition, every stuffed animal, save one, spent the night in the closet. Cassie from Dragontales was spared.

Rachel also got to stand in the corner. Although she tried several times to sit in the corner, she was picked up and made to stand again.

I think on some level, we got through. Rachel's shorts and pull up pants miraculously stayed on last night. Four Little People were freed from Fruit of the Loom Prison. The rest hope their incarceration will only last for a brief time.

Late edit: About a half hour after I wrote this, I received a phone call that Rachel had repeated this behavior. Looks like the Wiggles videos will go next. Stay tuned!