Week 18 Day 3: Distractionator fail

Today I discovered that Gavin does not like to be sprayed in the face with water while he's sitting on Stacy's lap getting his nails cut. Granted, most people don't like to be sprayed with water, but Gavin's reaction was very, well, strongly opposed to it. To be clear, I did not squirt him in the face -- more specifically, directly in the eye -- on purpose. I meant only to spritz him. Mist him, even. See, it's my job to distract Gavin while he gets his nails cut so that he stops trying to grab the clippers and doesn't yank his hands away. Stacy is the resident nail clipper and I am the resident distractionator. Usually all I have to do is grab Henri and hold him up and Gavin forgets all about his manicure. But today Henri was not nearby and so I grabbed a giant Costco-sized bottle of ibuprofen off of the end table and began to shake it like a rattle. Gavin was mesmerized but it quickly occurred to me that I should not be presenting as fun something that is totally off limits to him. And so I ditched the pain killers and grabbed the spray bottle I use to occasionally spray the cat in order to discourage said cat from engaging in activities such as furniture clawing and meowing outside Gavin's bedroom door at night. Now this little spray bottle, probably purchased from a dollar store, has a little nozzle that can be tightened or loosened in order to change the spray from a steady stream to a kind of mist. Unfortunately I turned it the wrong way and instead of "misting" Gavin I sprayed him directly in the eye. He did not like this, but aside from some grumbles and eye rubbing, he seemed largely unfazed. And so while Stacy proceeded to trim his other hand I turned the nozzle the correct way and said, "Look, Gavin!" and pulled the sprayer trigger ever so lightly and a little bit of water came out getting several drops on his arm. He then lost his mind. He cried, he wailed, he shuddered, he frowned. If I was someone on the outside looking in who saw only his reaction and not the cause of it I would have said, "Now there's a baby that's been punched in the face. Or burned. Or at the very least pinched. Very hard." And I felt awful as if I had, indeed, done something terrible to my son. It took a long time to calm him down after that but Stacy and I finally succeeded by doing a little dance and singing this little tune we made up on the fly. We even managed to get a smile out of him. But as soon as we'd stop he'd apparently remember the sprayer incident and his little face would crumble once more. Between this and the water boarding incident, I've probably set the stage for some kind of water phobia that will manifest itself once Gavin hits puberty and starts refusing to shower.

Other than that little incident we had a good day. Good naps were taken (by Gavin. Not by me, sadly. I could have really used a nap today, too). Meals were eaten. Toys were played with. We even made it to Borders and back without a meltdown. We tried to go yesterday but it was not a success. For one thing, Gavin does not like the elevator at Borders which we must use since I put Gavin in his stroller while we are there and lugging him and his stroller up and down the stairs is not an option. In order to distract/entertain him in the elevator today I grabbed the bear toy he was holding in my teeth, shook my head and made growling sounds. Though he still doesn't like elevators, he liked this and it was enough to get us through the ride, up and down. I sure hope they have security cameras in there.

I don't know what it was, but today went by very quickly. While yesterday dragged on and on and on today was over before I realized it. Being able to function on significantly less ibuprofen today probably helped.

Today while Stacy was feeding Gavin dinner I overheard her say, "Papaya's not my favorite fruit. But I like it as a change, you know?" She was, needless to say, feeding him papaya. Not exactly a rousing endorsement, but the other day I took a small taste to test the temperature of the collard greens mixed with tofu I was about to feed him, grimaced visibly, said something along the lines of, "Jesus, yuck," and then offered Gavin a spoonful with a smile saying, "Mmm. Good stuff. You're going to like it."

I finally found semi-decent Mother's Day cards. Not great ones, mind you. But passable. Which is good since I'm running out of time. I'm totally going to make my own line of Mother's Day cards. Like one that says, "Dear Mom, I'm glad that [sender's age] years ago you had a vagina and weren't afraid to use it. I presume you still have a vagina but I do not want to talk or think about it." That's just off the top of my head, people. I am a natural.