I have always hated snakes. Despised them. Can't really explain what it is. I don't know how many times my dad gave me the "They're more afraid of you than you are them" speech which I never believed, by-the-way, because I am pretty doggone petrified of the things. Growing up in the country you'd think I would at least be accustomed to snakes, even if I don't much care for them. I used to help my dad haul hay in the summers...mainly just driving the truck and helping him get the bales from the truck to the barn. I can remember being terrified that a snake was lurking in one of those hay bales. Of course my dad told me that was crazy, there were not snakes...you know, the kind of lies parents tell their children to keep them from being afraid. I've since found out, that several snakes have been found in that barn, around the hay in fact. I guess I was risking my life back then in that barn, and didn't even know it. Okay, I guess "risking my life" is a bit of an exaggeration. Maybe not.
During the summer months, my yard becomes a place of caution for me. Every step I take is inspected, for fear that a false move will land my foot on a snake. I just know it will happen one day. And I even get the full-body shakes when I see a snake on the road...when I'm in a car...where the snake can't possibly get me. Absurd, I know.
It doesn't help hearing about stories of snakes in toilets or washing machines. I'm pretty sure I would have to move if I ever found a snake inside my house. I'm just worried about the day when a snake gets around my kids. I mean, I love my kids like crazy...but, a snake? I would like to say my super-mom powers would kick in and I would...I don't know, do something. But, I'm afraid I would do one of two things: 1. Become completely immobilized 2. Run like lightning, forgetting I had kids. Cale and Keaton, who?
Today, I went with my dad, sister, her husband, and my niece to walk down to this waterfall that is near our house. Of course, there's no water right now, but they wanted to know where it was located. I was pretty nervous before even heading out there because I knew the area would be fairly grown up, with tall grass, weeds, sticks...snakey stuff. So, I put on my rain boots in the 90 degree weather, thinking this would at least make me feel a bit more brave. We hadn't walked two minutes, when everyone started yelling at Abree and I. "Snake! Snake! Get over here!". My sister is pretty scared of snakes too, I might add. So she was really screaming at us.
I think I went a little numb and my brain stopped working. I ran in the wrong direction, then darted back in the right direction. I would like to say, I grabbed my niece and made sure she was away from the snake, which they told me was pretty big. I'm sure it was HUGE. At least in my mind. But, luckily Abree took care of herself. I actually don't even think she was afraid of the snake. She's seven and I'm twenty-eight. Of course my dad started spouting off his age-old lie, "They're more afraid of you...", you know the rest. Hogwash.
Needless to say, the rest of the walk made me pretty uneasy. Every branch that touched my shoulder or every grasshopper that hopped in front of me made me jump. The deeper we got into the woods the more nervous I became. Finally as the group got pretty close to the waterfall area...there was no longer a path really, just leaf covered ground with lots of sticks and rocks...I decided to go no further. I told them I would wait right there for them. So, I waited. And waited. And looked up, down, and all around for snakes. And waited some more. They didn't come back. I could no longer hear them.
This sounds so silly to a normal person I guess. But, I was so afraid of seeing a snake that all I could do was just stand there. There's safety in numbers, right? Plus, my dad was leading the way so if there was a snake, he would step on it first. But, without them there... Finally I decided to try and head back up out of the woods. The only problem was, the path had somehow vanished and I wasn't exactly sure how to get back up. Oh, I could get back up if I was willing to walk through some crazy, tall, prickly stuff. But, that was not about to happen.
I felt about five-years old in that moment as I yelled pathetically, "Daaaaaaad? Dad? Hey guys, where are you? This isn't funny." Another five minutes when by. Finally I could hear my dad's voice. He helped me find the path and I got out safely.
So, I let a snake turn me into a child today. Pitiful.
Will my dad ever learn that snakes are not more afraid of me than I am of them? I win for sure. Well, actually the snake wins, I guess if you think about it.
Monday, June 11, 2012
Tuesday, June 5, 2012
Three...is NOT the magic number.
Three. Three is the new two. I heard someone say that back when Cale was two and I now believe it. I remember thinking when Cale was about 20 months old that he was starting the "Terrible Twos" early. Looking back, knowing what I know now, the twos weren't even all that terrible. More like "tolerable". But three...what words can describe this age? I'm not sure if "terrible" can even scratch the surface.
Now not all "three" moments are bad. Many can be quite pleasant and fun, actually. Three can be full of moments so enjoyable that you start thinking this stage is your favorite so far. Then, BAM. The evil twin, Dalebert shows up. That's the "loving" nickname we've had for Cale ever since he was little. We call him "Calebert" all the time; enough so, that strangers probably really think that's his name. I bet they wonder what in the world we were thinking. But, when Cale's evil twin appears we call him "Dalebert".
Tonight Dalebert graced us with his presence, as he's been doing a lot lately. I say "us" but actually Carl had martial arts class tonight. So, he didn't get the pleasure of Dalebert's company. However, my friend Megon and her husband Jason got a small visit with him. We were eating at Chick-fil-A. There were three adults and four kids...so we were outnumbered which is never a good thing. It's always a zoo when eating with little kids in a restuarant, even fast food. At one point Cale was getting really obnoxious and loud. He gets like that sometimes. Like, forcefully, aggressively loud. At home something physical usually accompanies this kind of loudness. Sometimes it's hitting, sometimes it's slapping. And usually poor Keaton is always the recipient.
I told Cale to quiet down. He looked at me and said pretty hatefully, "NO! You're a dork." And he continued to be obnoxious. I was a little stunned by the "dork" comment and I almost laughed. Not that his hatefulness was funny, but that "dork" was his word of choice. Where did he even hear that word? I scooped him up for a trip to the bathroom, aka the 'spanking-without-getting-judgemental-glances' room. Of course when we went in, there was a lady washing her hands. I have this issue with spanking Cale in front of people. It makes me really self conscious. I kind of think he knows that which doesn't help his public behavior any. So, since we weren't alone I started off telling him that he will not talk like that to adults, blah, blah, blah. He kept saying "Are you gonna spank me? You're not gonna spank me, are you? Don't spank me."
Well, as soon as the stranger walked out the door, Cale got what he was asking for...or not asking for. And believe it or not, after the spanking, that crazy kid looked at me with this mean expression and in an air of suppossed authority snapped, "I told you NOT to spank me!" This boy has a lot of nerve, not much sense, but lots of nerve.
Of course I explained to Cale that I'm the adult and he does not tell an adult what to do. Believe it or not our little untamed stallion proceeded to say "You are NOT the boss!" I don't why he has to push the limits so much.
So, he ended up being banned from going with his cousins after dinner. I knew how much he wanted to be with the girls and I felt like this was the most severe form of punishment I could have given him at that moment. When he heard me tell my sister that he would not be coming, he began wailing. The ride home was filled with buckets and tears and sobbing. I hope he at least learned some kind of lesson from it. I know I learned a lesson. I can never eat out in peace. Ever again.
All I wanted to do was enjoy some chicken nuggets and waffle fries. Is that too much to ask?
Oh, I forgot to mention that Keaton was a really good boy...besides poking his finger through my styrofoam cup, causing my Dr. Pepper to spill all over his clothes and the floor. But that was an accident so I'm okay with it. I hope he stays innocent for awhile longer.
Now not all "three" moments are bad. Many can be quite pleasant and fun, actually. Three can be full of moments so enjoyable that you start thinking this stage is your favorite so far. Then, BAM. The evil twin, Dalebert shows up. That's the "loving" nickname we've had for Cale ever since he was little. We call him "Calebert" all the time; enough so, that strangers probably really think that's his name. I bet they wonder what in the world we were thinking. But, when Cale's evil twin appears we call him "Dalebert".
Tonight Dalebert graced us with his presence, as he's been doing a lot lately. I say "us" but actually Carl had martial arts class tonight. So, he didn't get the pleasure of Dalebert's company. However, my friend Megon and her husband Jason got a small visit with him. We were eating at Chick-fil-A. There were three adults and four kids...so we were outnumbered which is never a good thing. It's always a zoo when eating with little kids in a restuarant, even fast food. At one point Cale was getting really obnoxious and loud. He gets like that sometimes. Like, forcefully, aggressively loud. At home something physical usually accompanies this kind of loudness. Sometimes it's hitting, sometimes it's slapping. And usually poor Keaton is always the recipient.
I told Cale to quiet down. He looked at me and said pretty hatefully, "NO! You're a dork." And he continued to be obnoxious. I was a little stunned by the "dork" comment and I almost laughed. Not that his hatefulness was funny, but that "dork" was his word of choice. Where did he even hear that word? I scooped him up for a trip to the bathroom, aka the 'spanking-without-getting-judgemental-glances' room. Of course when we went in, there was a lady washing her hands. I have this issue with spanking Cale in front of people. It makes me really self conscious. I kind of think he knows that which doesn't help his public behavior any. So, since we weren't alone I started off telling him that he will not talk like that to adults, blah, blah, blah. He kept saying "Are you gonna spank me? You're not gonna spank me, are you? Don't spank me."
Well, as soon as the stranger walked out the door, Cale got what he was asking for...or not asking for. And believe it or not, after the spanking, that crazy kid looked at me with this mean expression and in an air of suppossed authority snapped, "I told you NOT to spank me!" This boy has a lot of nerve, not much sense, but lots of nerve.
Of course I explained to Cale that I'm the adult and he does not tell an adult what to do. Believe it or not our little untamed stallion proceeded to say "You are NOT the boss!" I don't why he has to push the limits so much.
So, he ended up being banned from going with his cousins after dinner. I knew how much he wanted to be with the girls and I felt like this was the most severe form of punishment I could have given him at that moment. When he heard me tell my sister that he would not be coming, he began wailing. The ride home was filled with buckets and tears and sobbing. I hope he at least learned some kind of lesson from it. I know I learned a lesson. I can never eat out in peace. Ever again.
All I wanted to do was enjoy some chicken nuggets and waffle fries. Is that too much to ask?
Oh, I forgot to mention that Keaton was a really good boy...besides poking his finger through my styrofoam cup, causing my Dr. Pepper to spill all over his clothes and the floor. But that was an accident so I'm okay with it. I hope he stays innocent for awhile longer.
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