How to be a Kid 101

During my post-partum stay at the hospital, I was given loads of information on how to care for a new baby and also instructed to watch various baby programs that played on the television 24/7 (neither of which I looked at while there with Isaac...which lead to a hormone-induced meltdown shortly before discharge over the fact I was going to be a horrible parent simply because I had not had time to read the literature). I am convinced babies are given their own set of literature on how to be a kid and watch countless videos in the nursery on topics such as "The Art of Crying All Night" or "How to Throw Purred Peas in Such a Way They Will Never Come off the China Hutch."

Yesterday, Isaac remember everything printed in the chapter most likely titled, "Make Sure Your Mother's Phone Conversation Cannot Take Place."

Breakfast had finished and I was cleaning the kitchen. Evelyn was sleeping peacefully in her bad (later in the day she would buff up on the subject of "Rolling Over Repeatedly During the Night and Wake Up Crying") and Isaac had been happily sent off to the living room to play. I quietly dialed a friend's phone number, knowing that the tell-tale beeps of the phone buttons would send a signal to Isaac's brain and he would desperately need to speak to me the instant my friend picked up her phone. Fortunately, Isaac was distracted and did not hear the beeps of my phone and I was able to start in with my phone conversation.

I was happily chatting along with my friend when I noticed that Isaac had pulled out the piano bench and was climbing up to play the piano. This might not seem that extreme, except for 1.He is not allowed to play the piano (He didn't even know it was a piano until a certain person showed him there were actual keys underneath the lid a while back) 2. Rather than sitting, Isaac had chosen to stand on the bench in his socks (The poor boy is not known for his coordination).

It was when I asked Isaac to get down and stop playing the piano that he remembered everything about destroying Mommy's phone call. He proceeded to lay down and cry loudly. I attempted to carry-on my conversation with my back to the loud wails coming from the living room. Isaac was able to get his heart-broken self off the floor, dry his fake tears, and then decided he Must. Watch. A. Movie. Now! We don't just watch a movie on a whim here at casa de phillips, so Mommy's answer to this request was a big ol No.

Huge fake tears again and loss of all muscle control (another thing taught in the hospital nursery: Go completely limp when acting upset.)


I was trying to carry on with my conversation in a perky voice, while covering the mouthpiece at times to issue grave warnings to my child who is in a heap of snot and tears on the floor. In my years of teaching, I did many consultations with parents on how to handle children in particular situations, whether at home or at school. One of my pieces of advice was to have a "Telephone Basket" on hand filled with little toys that your child could entertain himself with during important phone conversations. Parents loved this tip....I should probably follow it my own self.

I am sure they would have equally loved witnessing me move my crying child out of the way, closing the doors to the kitchen, and letting him cry in deep heartache over something (not even sure what is was at that point), while I finished my conversation.

Fortunately, Isaac took very detailed notes on the lesson titled, "How to Melt Your Mommy's Heart with One Sweet Hug and a Sticky Kiss" and all was forgotten.

How can you not take a picture of such cuteness?

We are still doing the breathing treatments here at casa de phillips and still sound as if we are housing the local tuberculosis ward.