Short stories with a comical twist on the daily obstacles, aka adventures, of parenthood

Tag: parenting style Page 9 of 10

Judy the Possessed Doll

Izzy was crying in the middle of the night – I know, that sounds normal for a 9-month-old. But it was an “I’m scared” type of cry. I ran into her room. Her high pitch whimpers couldn’t be soothed with her favorite blanket, milk, or pacifier. What is wrong? …

It must be – the new doll that she got is possessed!

I was afraid of dolls growing up, so I never got Izzy one. Since we found that lashes help her sleep [read post here], I wanted to give Izzy a toy with lashes, blinking eyes, and long soft hair – the only toy I could think of is a doll. It would be an opportunity to eliminate the fear once and for all, as I comforted myself. Surprisingly, it took me a while to find the right one because dolls these days don’t have the lashes and rolling eyes anymore (which allows them to blink). Maybe there’s a reason – they’re evil! Finally, I found a harmless looking doll at Walmart that had the lashes but no hair – good enough.

I just bought this doll yesterday; she is still in the living room. Izzy was attracted to her immediately because the eyelids “blink” when she plays with the lashes – we named the doll Judy. It must have sneaked into the room, wanting revenge because Izzy was stabbing her eyes. Perhaps it ran away when Izzy woke up. I immediately closed the bedroom door and snuggled closely under the covers of the guest bed with Izzy. I want to face my fears; I should go out and prove that this is all my imagination. Scenarios raced through my mind – what if Judy is waiting for me?

She can be standing outside the door, back towards me, and then slowly turn her head 180 degrees with her innocent smile.

Or she can be down the dark hallway, in the shadows holding a sharp object, then she’ll sprint full speed in attack mode.

Izzy finally stopped crying and started dozing off in my arms. Other than the ocean wave noise coming out of our sound machine, it is pretty quiet. Wait, did I just hear a creak? Our new floorboards creak with every step. I started sweating; she is coming for us. Usually, when I needed help, I’ll call for DT sleeping in the other room, but I was afraid that Judy would harm him instead, so I kept quiet this time.

I wonder if she can talk, I can almost hear the hysterical laughter echoing through the walls. I looked towards the door, envisioning that it’ll slowly start opening. The small night light in the room casts a shadow over the furniture.

My eyes strained in the dark to see if there are any movements, perhaps she’s in here already.

After about an hour (or two?), I dozed off, thinking I should’ve gotten a stuffed toy and crazy glued the lashes on it instead.

The first thing in the morning was to return the doll to Walmart. That evening, I was on the lookout to make sure Judy didn’t find her way back – luckily she didn’t. After scouring the internet for hours, I found a stuffed cow with lashes, on Amazon – no reviews, and it was $30, but it looks harmless – let’s give it a shot.

Hot Potato had a Fever

It is 4 AM, and I stink. Mommy passed me to daddy as she ran away, coughing into her elbow. “Paci!” he screamed. Yes! I want that, maybe that’ll help with the burning sensation all over my body. Mommy ran back and tried to stuff the paci into his mouth. No! Wrong person! I wailed louder. As daddy put the paci in my mouth, the parents looked at each other and laughed deliriously from the lack of sleep, their voices echoed down the hallway and back.

“Hot potato coming through!” daddy said as he passed me back to mommy and ran away for his coughing break.

Guys! Stop fighting for a chance to hold me; now is not the time to demonstrate your love. My body feels like it is on fire, my head is aching – stop moving me around!

“Time for another dose,” says daddy as he came back with a syringe. The sticky cherry syrup drizzled down my chin. He then gave me a bottle of milk, the warm liquid smoothly flowed down my throat. Waking up every hour (instead of every 2 hours like usual) with a high fever is making me hungry.

After I finished my meal, the fluid uncontrollably started bubbling in my tummy, like a volcano about to erupt.

It burnt my esophagus on its way up, and I sputtered the mix of cherry-flavored milk acid over my shirt, floor, and the parents. Ugh. Not again! It had been hard for my 3-month old body to keep anything down these days. Whatever you do, mommy, don’t bathe me nor change my clothes – I am well aware that I stink.

At this point, just let me swim in sour milk curds; I am too tired.

As if she could read my mind, I felt a wet towel wiping my face, chin, ears, and body – the cooling sensation felt good on my burning skin. I caught a glimpse of mommy – her eyes barely opened, the deep dark circles and the wrinkles under her eyelids made her look older – what happened to her? I drift to sleep, thinking about mold growing on the sour milk by tomorrow morning.

The Mosquito’s Gift

S small, black figure buzz in front of me, circling my head, and finally lands on my right knee. Oh – Hi, want to be friends? I study its fuzzy body with a set of long wings. This friend doesn’t talk much, does it?

Its head dips forward. The long needle on its head pierce into my skin – perhaps that’s a greeting of some sort.

Its body is pulsating with every blink. Is it … getting bigger?

“Ahh! You’re getting eaten alive!” Mommy smacks my knees. “I got the mosquito!” she squeals with delight as she shows me the black smear on her palm. The sting from her slap spreads over my knee caps.

“Izzy, you need to tell me when you’re getting bitten.” So, that’s what friends do – they bite each other. I look down and notice the spot where the mosquito had landed is turning pinkish-red and now triple in size.

The area got warmer by the second, and my fingers uncontrollably scratches it – what a crafty welcome gift.

Mommy puts some gloves over my small, 4-months old hands and rubs cream on my knee and arms. She is too busy to notice another “friend” has landed on her forehead. I smile to say thanks as it gave her a welcome gift as well.

Attaining Nirvana in the Womb – Part II

I can’t see, but there is no point anyway. It is pitch-black in here; my ears are my eyes in this world. It is usually pretty noisy with the stomach factory constantly pumping out gastric acid and the food particles flowing through multiple pathways. Don’t even get me started on the veins; they envelop this world like a rubber band ball.

I overheard that I will get “evicted” soon.

That’s probably another term for attaining nirvana, like what they promised two months ago. Finally, after 41 weeks, I will become a Buddha – I’ve been mentally writing a thesis of how my new life would be like. I would live in a world just as silky as this one, with a constant stream of water flowing around the body to keep me young forever. I don’t want just to survive, I want to live to my fullest potential, you know? Perhaps I’ll get to surface from my capsule and unhook from the life-system to socialize with the other Buddhists and have a fancy glass of premium grade amniotic fluid. Or I’ll have a bigger bouncy house with space to continue practicing my sissonne ballet jumps and double jabs. I looked around me.

Space is limited these days; my arms and legs were pressed so tightly against the inner walls that the only position I like is upside down.

Suddenly the jello sack started vibrating violently. With every passing minute, my ears pounded louder. My head is constantly pulled into gravity’s gaping mouth below. Even with my eyes closed, I can see the dim light piercing through my eyelids. Today I will meet my fate.

I will now let go of my worldly possessions.

Within a few seconds, white sheets surrounded me like a welcome mat. I let out a yelp of surprise as giant “beings” (buddhas?) hover over me. The light is so bright I kept my eyes shut. Ah! I’m levitating! So this is how it feels like to be enlightened!

But it went downhill from there.

As I drifted from point A to B to C in a white towel, I screamed in vain, getting dizzier by the second. “Good, she cried.” What is wrong with these beings? Survival in this world is about who can scream the loudest?

I realized I need to rewrite my thesis as this world is not as peaceful as I envisioned it; it is full of light, hunger, and dry, itchy blankets.

The saddest part is that now I have to share my world with all of these beings.

I kicked my arms and legs in frustration. Can I un-attain nirvana?

Attaining Nirvana in the Womb – Part I

“Humm mm Humm.” Something is disturbing my peace; it is circling me as if looking for an entrance. There’s that sound again, near my legs this time. “Humm mm Humm.” Every few weeks, this sound tries to track me down, as if I’m in a snow globe, studying my every move.

I jumped forward and transitioned into a backflip.

It was much easier to maneuver in this jello sack seven months ago; now, I am continually fighting for space. Perhaps it is investigating whether I am worthy of attaining nirvana, testing my dedication as I am in the process of rebirth.

I can barely make out the words, “She’s moving a lot. I can’t find her heartbeat.” It wants my heartbeat.

I shall appease them else they will deny my entrance to enlightenment. I sat down and started meditating.

I listened to the waves in my surrounding with my eyes closed, the fluid gently vibrating as the humming slithers towards me. “Finally got her!… I think she’s sitting up because the heartbeat is above the belly button.” Yes – ma’am, I am trying to concentrate here.

After a minute, the humming stopped, “she’ll be ready in two months,” the words echoed through the chambers.

Yes! Finally! I will attain nirvana! In my euphoria, I kicked my arms and legs for an early celebration. I’m too thrilled to meditate right now; I’ll do it later.

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