The background:
Max puts everything in his mouth, not to mention, he chokes on his drool, finds minuscule pieces of food, paper & play-doh under Ainsley's chair to eat & has already experienced my version of the Heimlich maneuver to dislodge a mystery object.
Ainsley has a hard time remembering to remove her crayons (apparently very tempting & tasty to Max), stickers & other chokable items from her brother's grasp.
The scene:
In the kitchen, Max looks up at me with a huge blue grin on his face, gripping a blue crayon. Me, racing to the floor, shoving my finger is his mouth trying to find the crayon piece he's about to choke on.
"AINSLEY, you HAVE to remember to pick up your crayons!"
"What mom?" she responds, totally ignoring me & not noticing that her brother just ate
her crayon.
So I try another tactic.
I pretend to cry. Oh yes, I do.
"Your crayons!" I wail. "You have to pick them up or Max could eat them & get really sick & it would be so sad!" Sob, sob, sob.
She turns & I finally have her attention. "I'm so sorry, Mommy! I will pick them up!"
And then she starts to cry. Not just cry, but sob.
She is trying to out-sob me.
Good, Lord.
Most moms might feel guilty that they made their child cry, but Ainsley produces Academy Award-winning tears on a daily basis, so I really feel no guilt. (An inherited trait from her Auntie Julie).
So there we were, the three of us on the floor, Max smiling with his blue mouth, Ainsley producing Steel Magnolias-worthy tears, & me, comforting her & picking up tiny crumbs from this morning's breakfast so my son won't choke.
These are the moments where I seriously feel like we could have a reality show because it all just seems so ridiculously ridiculous. (But I wouldn't change it for a second!)
