Of Muffin Papers, Burned Cookies and Toilet Trauma


Is it the weekend yet? No? Still Monday? Criminey!

As the parent of a toddler, routine is something that is a fact of life. It helps keep Diva on the ball and Lord only knows it assists in the search for my sanity. We love our routines.

Every Monday, for example, we bake muffins. It’s Muffin Monday. Diva has inherited my love of baking and even though we often only make 6-8 muffins, I look forward to it too. It’s fun. It’s out little thing we do. Well, this week we changed it up. We baked our muffins on SUNDAY night. Gasp.

In doing so, we totally changed the routine. The muffins were delicious, as per the norm, but something about the familiar tradition was a little…off. I wasn’t paying as much attention as I should have. Maybe it was the Occupy evictions this weekend that threw me off, in any case, I wasn’t baking with my A game.

‎”Mommy I want muffin.”
I handed her the muffin with the paper still on, not really paying attention.
~5 minutes later~

“Mommy, all clean! All done!”
“Did you throw away your paper in the garbage? Good job helping mommy make the muffins!”
“Mommy I eat it.”
The Muffin?
“and paper. yum YUM.”

I wish I had a camera for what was probably a very amusing expression on my face. Will a little muffin paper hurt Diva? Not at all. It was just the concept that she actually ate it! Well, she was right about one thing, it IS cleaner! Good job, sweet pea. I think. Thank God I use papers and not foils.

Do they make edible muffin papers? They probably should. J

MOOOOoooooving on.

To make up for the lack of muffin baking this morning Diva and I decided to bake cookies. Again, this is something we do regularly. So regularly that I cannot remember the last time I actually used a recipe. I just look in the cabinet and start pulling things out that would taste good in our cookies. Today’s batch was Oatmeal-Raisin-Chocolate Chip. Mmmmmm, a personal favorite!

We were ALL SET! Diva helped measure things and crack the egg. I managed anything relating to the oven and we both got our hands (obviously cleaned profously!) dirty and formed our own drop cookies to put on the cookie sheet. Cookie baking is not hard.

Well. It usually isn’t hard. Cookies were placed in the oven to bake to delicious golden hue for 12 minutes. During the meantime, being a multitasker, I decided to take advantage of being able to catch Diva and suggested that we try out that potty that we have been working towards. Potty training has been a long process but she is finally good about going in her little potty chair thing.

“Diva! Why don’t you go try to go potty!”

“Mommy, I go POTTY! And then, DORA PANTS!” she exclaimed with that childlike glee and ran towards the bathroom, anxiously awaiting her success, sticker reward and a new pair of “Dora pants!”

In hindsight, I probably should have gone with her immediately. This was mistake number one. But, we do this routine at least 10 times a day, the cabinets are locked in the bathroom and the door is left open. I decided to go ahead and rinse off the cookie bowl immediately.

“SPLASH! WAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

“Sweet pea? Sweet pea!! What the heck?”

“WAAAAIIIIILLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL! MOMMY MOMMY! POTTY EAT ME!”

As I ran into the bathroom (granted in 800sq ft, it’s not far to run) a dozen scenarios went through my mind. How on earth did she make a splash? She couldn’t reach the sink and the tub would have let me know. She had her own potty so she never really bothered with the big toilet….

Until now.

There was my child. Distraught. Stuck in the toilet. Her little hands and feet flailing and her butt sinking in.

She had decided, in the 30 seconds she was in the bathroom, to take apart her potty chair and put the seat part OVER the big toilet and then climb up and sit on it. Not having anything locking her in, her little hiney fell in and she was fine but stuck.

I am a sympathetic mom. Really, I am. I applaud my child’s ingenuity. She was probably really proud of herself for using the big potty and frankly, I am kinda impressed that she understood enough to actually combine the two. I released her from her potty prison immediately but then I lost it.

You ever laugh so hard you cry and then feel like you MIGHT pee your pants a little bit?

Yeah. One of those times.

Diva was clutching my leg for dear life and casting toddler death glares at “BAD POTTY, MOMMY! BAD POTTY!” and I was laughing like a lunatic. There is just something so comical about it.

Fast forward 15 minutes.

I am under control, once again. Diva is clad in her fresh new Dora pants and the potty has been remedied and bungee locked to prevent further experiences.

“Wasn’t there something I was supposed to be doing?” I ask my very serious and slightly fearful child.

She stared solemnly back at me. Those gorgeous blue eyes blinking at me.

There is a weird noise that vaguely registers in my mind. A kind of buzzing…..

“SHIT! The cookies!!” I race back to rescue them, hoping against hope that at least something would be rescued today and that Diva wouldn’t repeat my four-letter-word-of-choice…

Yeah. No.

The cookies are burned. Not completely unsalvageable, but not something I would ever serve to anyone. Crap.

So we sat down on the couch this evening. A tired momma, a traumatized toddler, and a plate of cookies that could also double as hardtack, my child put her hand on my knee and as she gnawed on the cookie like a teether she looked at me knowingly. 

“Shit.” she whispered oh so matter-a-factly. 

Sigh. Oh Lord. Daycare is going to have a field day with this one. I just smile back the laughter and nod my head. 

“Shoot, baby. The word is “Shoot!”” 

Next week, Muffin Monday is going to happen ON MONDAY.

CLEARLY, no good comes of changing some of these traditions, haha!

Peace, love and muffins y’all!

Bekah


-_-

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Comments
One Response to “Of Muffin Papers, Burned Cookies and Toilet Trauma”
  1. I just read almost all of this to my dad and had him laughing pretty good.

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