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It's okay to spend the whole Spring/Summer/Autumn in the basement, right?
It appears that spring has sprung. It's beautiful out and like a good mom I took the kids outside. We were outside for about 10 minutes max. The boys are attempting suicide multiple times. I'm pulling them off the garden wall, telling them not to run with sticks, and trying not to be too protective. Lambie is desperate to get down and I'm wary of letting her crawl around in the yard barefoot/bare-legged (she refuses to wear shoes or socks). I'm helping her onto a little riding toy when the boys say, "Mommy! Look what we found!" I lift my head and find myself face to face with a dead mutilated squirrel which K1 is proudly holding up inches from my face. I, um, wasn't cool. I totally shrieked. K1 jumped, dropped the squirrel, and then I quickly ushered all the kids into the house to wash their hands and faces with lots and lots and lots of soap.
Then I lectured them about how they are not to touch any animal of any kind, whether dead or alive, any place that they may happen to find an animal unless there is a grown up in charge that says it's okay. Not cats, dogs, mice, rats, squirrels, rodents, snakes, NOTHING. Not if it's dead. Not if it's alive. Not if you wash your hands first. Not if you wash your hands after. Not in the back yard, the front yard, the park, the swimming pool. Just don't! No, it's not the same as touching the animal pelt you saw at the children's museum. No, it's not the same as petting your friend's dog. Just no.
Now K2 (who wants to be a veterinarian when he grows up) is totally traumatized and he's telling me he thinks that the squirrel carcass in the yard is "a monster." Oy.
Did I mention that the boys want to get bicycles this summer? I might not survive until Autumn.
It appears that spring has sprung. It's beautiful out and like a good mom I took the kids outside. We were outside for about 10 minutes max. The boys are attempting suicide multiple times. I'm pulling them off the garden wall, telling them not to run with sticks, and trying not to be too protective. Lambie is desperate to get down and I'm wary of letting her crawl around in the yard barefoot/bare-legged (she refuses to wear shoes or socks). I'm helping her onto a little riding toy when the boys say, "Mommy! Look what we found!" I lift my head and find myself face to face with a dead mutilated squirrel which K1 is proudly holding up inches from my face. I, um, wasn't cool. I totally shrieked. K1 jumped, dropped the squirrel, and then I quickly ushered all the kids into the house to wash their hands and faces with lots and lots and lots of soap.
Then I lectured them about how they are not to touch any animal of any kind, whether dead or alive, any place that they may happen to find an animal unless there is a grown up in charge that says it's okay. Not cats, dogs, mice, rats, squirrels, rodents, snakes, NOTHING. Not if it's dead. Not if it's alive. Not if you wash your hands first. Not if you wash your hands after. Not in the back yard, the front yard, the park, the swimming pool. Just don't! No, it's not the same as touching the animal pelt you saw at the children's museum. No, it's not the same as petting your friend's dog. Just no.
Now K2 (who wants to be a veterinarian when he grows up) is totally traumatized and he's telling me he thinks that the squirrel carcass in the yard is "a monster." Oy.
Did I mention that the boys want to get bicycles this summer? I might not survive until Autumn.
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