Hi Everyone! This is Muffin here, doing my first post! I’m so excited!
(And they say I have a short attention span, so I need to be quick!)
Like my Mom, I love to write, but mostly on walls, floors, doors, clothes, and tables, in books, and on myself! My favorite way to record my thoughts is with a permanent marker (Sharpies rock!). And I love love LOVE! using the computer.
So here goes!
Mommy’s been telling everybody (Daddy says, “very dramatically!“) how I squirmed out of my car seat straps last night. And since Mommy’s already been writing about it and I’m pretty sure it’s gonna go viral, I wanted a chance to tell my side of the story first.
But first of all, anybody else notice how there is way too much info on here already about me? Like, about my potty training which I think is quite personal.
OK, so back to my story. The long and short of it is that I got out of my carseat straps. Ok? Like, so no big deal, right?
When my Mommy told this story on the phone this morning, she was overly dramatic:
H”ere we are driving home late on the highway, blinding rain, full and happy from a great dinner with friends, but we suddenly can’t see the road and we have this SCREAMING toddler…”
Ok, for starters I wasn’t screaming. I was…getting my parents’ attention. And it wasn’t raining all that bad so she’s probably exaggerating on that one too. The thing is, she doesn’t bother mentioning that we were driving back from a house with no toys.
There were so many rules: no climbing on the stairs. no touching vases. no opening the front door. no hitting the TV. no ice cream for me. stay out of the kitchen. stay quiet. don’t touch buttons. sit on somebody’s lap all night. and on and on it went.
And all I wanted was my paci! (That means “pacifier” in case you don’t know.) And I thought Mommy wasn’t giving it to me because Daddy doesn’t like pacis.
So, I get that. And I was nice enough about it until we could got back in the car where my paci was.
But that’s when I found out that (even with my long wait) they still weren’t gonna give me a paci!
I read what Mommy was going to write about me on here:
“Was she just gonna fall asleep on the drive home like a normal baby? No, Ma’am! For thirty impressive minutes, she. showed. us. NOTHING calmed her. Not talking. Reaching back to hold her hand. Soothing. The radio. Trying different stations. Singing to her. Colder air conditioning. Tucking in her blanket. Shoes on. Shoes off. Giving her a bottle, which she threw to the floor. Windows down. Window back up. Nothing but screaming! And there was too much stuff in the back seat to climb back there.”
(Daddy says, “That’s true; you’re not being dramatic about that part.”)
Look, I was just screaming to help them understand what I wanted! I’m helpful like that.
And I needed their attention. Which is what I got when I pushed my arms up through the car seat straps. (Mommy makes those things really tight so it was a lot of work.) But then Mommy turned back around and told me to “STOP!”
That just made everything worse for me.
The way Mommy writes it is completely unjustified:
“Suddenly she’s just OUT, free from her upper straps and straining wildly at the lower ones, the bloody murder screaming still going full tilt. And I’m exhausted just thinking about it!”
(I told you she was dramatic.)
Next thing I know, the car stops and Mommy gets out and comes to my door. No biggie, right? But she was gonna write this:
“I’m squinting against oncoming headlights, trying not to think about snakes and bugs around crawling over my flip-flops in the high grass, and getting soaked through from the rain as I hunch over my child in the back seat. She’s lurching, thrashing, folding over on herself, making it nearly impossible to re-buckle. And my husband has one hand on the steering wheel, the other gripping the gear stick, his full attention on the side view mirror, as he shouts over the din how dangerous this is and to ‘hurry it up so we don’t become a statistic!’ No pressure!”
So back to the real story, nobody, and I mean nobody, at this point was even trying to find my paci, they were just trying to buckle me.
Priorities, people. Priorities.
And it was the weirdest thing because as soon as we got home, they took me right inside and gave me my paci. So like why all the wait?
But you’ve got to hear the end of Mommy’s story:
“I’ve learned my lesson; Never leave the house without a paci again. Ever.”
So that’s how it went, huh? I had no IDEA my parent’s were so irresponsible.
But in the end they were pretty sorry about it. Daddy sent Mommy to the store today to buy lots of pacis. All for me!
So, I just wanted you to hear my side before my Mom told you that she had a bad night! Thank goodness she’s a slow blogger.
Oh, and this writing stuff is really hard; I’m gonna get back to drawing with my Sharpies now!