I only wish I were posting about the song — and yes, I have it going through my head right now, so you can share in my misery.
Last night, we were invited to a friend’s house for dinner. They live in our neighborhood, and ordinarily we’d walk, but it was raining, so we needed to drive. And about forty-five minutes before we were supposed to be there, I realized that I didn’t have anything I was bringing. Oops.
So I made Nana’s Apple Cake because a) it’s dairy free — her son also has a lactose issue, so it’s appreciated b) it’s yummy and c) it has three ingredients so I can get it cooking quickly. Yeah…. At 4:52 I finally called her and asked if I could borrow her oven to finish cooking it. We were supposed to be there at 4:30.
Her kids are both boys, and very (stereo)typical boys, at that. Little Miss was super excited to see them, and she ran into the house and started playing. Eventually, they migrated into the basement where the bouncy house was turned on. That required adult supervision, as four children in a two person bouncy gets a little dicey. Especially with some kids who like to turn it on and off. And some kids who like to try to make the walls fall down.
My friend and I left our husbands downstairs to monitor the situation while we chatted and got dinner finalized.
Fun Event A: Mister Man came upstairs holding his arm and crying. And no, I don’t know why my husband didn’t handle it while downstairs, so don’t ask…. He’d fallen on his previously broken arm, at which point we all decided maybe the bouncy house wasn’t the best thing to play with right now. Tears gone, we started dinner.
Fun Event B: My friend made great chicken fajitas. She crock potted the chicken in salsa. Neither child would eat the fajitas, although both tried them, to their credit. Neither child would eat the spanish rice my friend made either. She very kindly made them chicken nuggets. And I only twice had to shush Mister Man from going on about how yucky the food was.
Fun Event C: After dinner and before dessert, the kids were all playing upstairs. We had each gone upstairs to check on them a few times when her older son suddenly burst into loud howls. Yep, Mister Man stabbed him in the eye with a Lego toy. We’re still not sure of the whole story as Mister Man didn’t get much of a chance to explain himself beyond the typical “but it was an accident” story. And her son never game many details either. Mister Man was too wound up from the long weekend and was sent on his merry way home with my husband to go to bed.
Fun Event D: After dessert — ok in the middle of dessert after my friend’s younger son decided he was done eating watermelon and Little Miss quickly followed suit — the two went upstairs into his room. I checked, and he had turned on a Baby Einstein video. Whatever. I went back downstairs until a couple minutes later when we felt and heard the thud. And then the screaming. I was closest and made it up the stairs first, and my friend’s husband was close behind. I opened the door to the room and saw the dresser tipped over with her son underneath. I pushed the dresser back onto the wall, by which point the dad was scooping up the boy to check him out. The television that was atop the dresser had crash landed on the bed, missing Little Miss by about three inches. Her son appears to be fine, although many of the objects that were atop the dresser previously had broken in the fall. The dresser didn’t land all the way on her son, as the foot of the bed stopped it. Apparently, he had tried to climb the dresser to reach the VCR to change the movie, and it had tipped. He fell back against the footboard of the bed and probably has a pretty bruised back. The drawers also fell out and landed on his legs, but thank GOD the dresser was stopped by the bed.
We left after that.
I asked her to let me know how both her boys are doing today, but I’ve gotten a few good reminders and lessons here.
1) Tonight when I get home from work, I am anchoring Little Miss’s dresser to the wall. Mister Man only has a very low bureau that he could never topple. But I’m still considering anchoring that, as well.
2) Dinners need to be earlier. We’d been invited for 4:30 with dinner around 5:15 or 5:30. That’s too late for an evening out for us. We need to be eating between 4:30 and 5 because social dinners take so long to eat. And the dinner never starts on time anyway — my friend had forgotten to make rice, so we didn’t start our meal until almost six.
3) These kids need to be supervised when playing. While the wee ones can play with some kids with only check ins every five minutes or so, with these friends, there needs to be an adult present at all times.
4) My husand needs to stop showing the wee ones Spiderman. Spiderman cartoons from the 1970s has turned into his little ritual with them, and I’ve been against this for a number of reasons: it pushes bedtime too late, they get into a very demanding mode where they expect Spiderman, I don’t like them watching much tv anyway, and although this is a very sanitized version there still is cartoon violence. In talking to Mister Man after I got home (who was absolutely filled with shame and crushed and could hardly talk, poor kid) I determined that he wasn’t trying to hurt anyone but that Spiderman shoots things out and throws things and the bad guys just get captured and don’t get hurt. He can’t draw the line between what’s ok and not, and with his issues in knowing where to draw the line already in some of his social issues, Spiderman is just too much for him. Spiderman didn’t necessarily cause the Lego stabbing, but it certainly didn’t help the matter. My husband, fortunately, had already thought of the same thing, so we’re on the same page.
My biggest concern is that Mister Man is in daycare all morning with the boy he “stabbed” (it was a Lego square ship like thing, so stabbing is a little severe of a description). The boy even when we left was playing the drama up to the hilt — not saying that he isn’t hurt but his mom said he was milking it. Mister Man has two boys in daycare who already get on his case about everything where we’ve been working with the teachers to ensure the behavior is appropriate. If my friend’s son starts talking about what Mister Man did in daycare, we could have a problem. We’ll see when I get home.
And meanwhile, I’m trying to figure out when the right time is to call my friend to apologize again for Mister Man and to see how both her kids are doing. But I’m not expecting a dinner invite anytime soon.