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Why does everyone in my house freeze like a deer in the headlights . . .


Harriet Vane
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Why does everyone in my house freeze like a deer in the headlights when there is a spill? The literally just stand there, slack-jawed, watching the spill spread. No one moves until I start snapping out orders like, "QUICK!!! WIPE THE SPILL!!!"

 

It's not rocket science, people.

 

It's always been this way. Dh is even worse about it than the kids. :banghead:

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Hubby is much slower to respond than I am (well, esp when its baby puke in the middle fo the night and he cnat seem to remember that there are towels . . .in the bathroom . . .) but yes, my standard response to a spill is to yell "Get a towel!"  I mean,  unless I spilled it, in which case my standard response is to curse.   :blushing:  :cursing:

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I think that is very common. When I was six months pregnant with dd I was at the library and a woman began screaming, "Stop him!" as a man ran through the library. I was the only person to chase after him and get his license plate as he sped away. The library was full of people who froze like they belonged to the evil queen in The Lion the Witch and the Wardrobe. He had been trying to abduct a young girl and pull her out the back door of the library but a woman stopped him and he was forced to run through the whole library to go out the front door. He went by at least a hundred people and EVERYONE stood like a statue even though a woman was screaming for help.  

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I think that is very common. When I was six months pregnant with dd I was at the library and a woman began screaming, "Stop him!" as a man ran through the library. I was the only person to chase after him and get his license plate as he sped away. The library was full of people who froze like they belonged to the evil queen in The Lion the Witch and the Wardrobe. He had been trying to abduct a young girl and pull her out the back door of the library but a woman stopped him and he was forced to run through the whole library to go out the front door. He went by at least a hundred people and EVERYONE stood like a statue even though a woman was screaming for help.  

YIKES, that is so scary! I might have frozen in that situation, too, I admit. 

 

As for spills... yeah. I don't understand why everyone freezes except me. It's like they have to figure out the solution to a spill every single time one happens. 

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During the bitter cold week we had in January, when temps were in the single digits here in Atlanta, my husband came out of the bathroom to announce that we had no hot water. He proceeded to get back into the bed. I immediately climbed out of bed, threw on clothes, searched out blow dryers and extension cords and stood outside in 5 degree weather to thaw the appropriate pipe. I give him a hard time about this regularly. His defense is that he had to think about what to do, and he was going to do it in bed. I am dubious. But that is also what he would say if the question of spills and vomit clean-up were to arise: "I am thinking!"

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The worse is when it's a bottle that spurts things out in blasts. Picture a two litre bottle of pop spurting out bursts of pop when everyone stares at it wondering what to do.

 

Um, Stand it upright.

 

Nope. Instead just watch then pick it up spin it around and turn it upside down. That's the way. :p

 

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During the bitter cold week we had in January, when temps were in the single digits here in Atlanta, my husband came out of the bathroom to announce that we had no hot water. He proceeded to get back into the bed. I immediately climbed out of bed, threw on clothes, searched out blow dryers and extension cords and stood outside in 5 degree weather to thaw the appropriate pipe. I give him a hard time about this regularly. His defense is that he had to think about what to do, and he was going to do it in bed. I am dubious. But that is also what he would say if the question of spills and vomit clean-up were to arise: "I am thinking!"

 

I am dubious too. :cheers2:

 

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This thread honestly shocks me. I've been homeschooling for 16 years and reading this board most of the time.  I've only been truly shocked a handful of times but…Quite honestly, I thought this happened only in MY house! 

 

I know! This is a revelation. I'd have thought moving the Latin book about to be soaked in raspberry tea was kind of obvious, but I guess not. And I'm so relieved to learn it isn't just my people.

 

And it brings to mind the corollary to staring, frozen: the literal running in circles ("I was looking for a towel"). 

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My kids do the exact same thing. No one moves until I yell, get a towel! Even then they wonder about aimlessly like they have no idea where a towel would be. The best is when they start shouting about how something is getting soaked while standing there not doing anything about it. :lol:

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Can't speak for husbands, but...

 

This is just a theory I read, so don't attack...

 

It was an article about the map of the body created in the mind and held there. Basically your mind has a map of your body and it can become outdated/distorted. Many people with body dysmorphia have a distorted map.

 

When bodies grow the map isn't always up-to-date and that is one of the reasons kids have more little accidents and knock things over. When that happens the body map actually is updated with new information, hence the freezing.

 

It was an interesting article in a reputable magazine but I'm not doing it justice.

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My frequent admonition in a situation like this is, "Fix the problem, not the blame!"

 

I don't care who the glass belonged to. I don't care who knocked it over. I don't care why. I just want the liquid mopped up - ASAP.

Exactly! And when they finally go to get something, they bring back an unnecessarily small/huge towel or a sock or something ridiculous.

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"Where is the-------?"

 

"In the same place it's been for the last 10 years." :glare:

The last time I was at my parents, my mom was in the dining room and my dad was standing in the kitchen. She asked him to bring some napkins to the table. He didn't know where they were. They have lived in that house for 28 years and the napkins have been in the same place the entire time.

 

Come to think of it, right after we moved into our current house, I asked dh to change the baby's diaper. He told me he didn't know where they were. They were in the same drawer of the changing table that we had had for two children.

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My husband is the worst "where is the _________" offender >.< . Most of the time I'm like, "Do you even live here?"

DH is convinced my uterus is a homing device. He even phrases questions, "honey, would you ask your uterus where my _____________ is?" :)

 

On the other hand, I do have an uncanny ability to find things, but I digress...

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In my house, DH is pretty quick to respond, but I am not wild about how he uses dish towels to clean up messes on the floor. I have a lot of issues around proper dish towel use:)

My kitchen floor is constantly covered in dish towels and i have no idea why.  it makes me nuts.

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DH is convinced my uterus is a homing device. He even phrases questions, "honey, would you ask your uterus where my _____________ is?" :)

 

On the other hand, I do have an uncanny ability to find things, but I digress...

:lol:   We have magic uteruses here, too.  We just say that our homing abilities are located on the xx chromosome.  Sweet P and I can find anything, those with a y chromosome couldn't find their behinds if I handed it to them in a paper bag. 

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Just this morning DH is sitting in front of my computer with his coffee.  The dog jumped up on him, knocking over the coffee in the process. Just as he was yelling for a towel I threw one at him. He then asked why I was throwing a towel at him instead of cleaning up the coffee.  Um, you are sitting right there and I'm still in the kitchen.

 

And then there is the child who just keeps vomiting on the floor instead of trying to reach the bathroom. She thought it would be easier for me to clean it up that way.

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Just this morning DH is sitting in front of my computer with his coffee.  The dog jumped up on him, knocking over the coffee in the process. Just as he was yelling for a towel I threw one at him. He then asked why I was throwing a towel at him instead of cleaning up the coffee.  Um, you are sitting right there and I'm still in the kitchen.

 

And then there is the child who just keeps vomiting on the floor instead of trying to reach the bathroom. She thought it would be easier for me to clean it up that way.

 

How kind of her  :lol: .

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haha no one would dream of expecting me to clean something .  Dh, despite being the only income earner, does a fair amount of cleaning.  Partly because I hate it and just dont get around to it as quickly as I should.  Everyone is expected to pitch in at least some with cleaning, and esp if its their own mess.

 

But i still remember how mad I was when dd was 2 and backsliding on potty training.  She was standing on a wood floor and had an accident.  I yelled out "Oh no!" and she smiled at me and said "Its ok, Mommy, you can clean it up!"  

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I especially love it when they come to find me upstairs and down the hallway, to tell me there was a full glass of orange juice spilled on the dining room table (which is over carpet). Passing by a kitchen, linen closet, dirty clothes/towels pile and 2 bathrooms with clean towels on the way.    :banghead:   When I say 'what did you do to clean it up?' I am told 'I came to find you'. 

 

 

Or when there is something on the counter that the spill is running toward.... they stand there and say "it is going to get on the book/game/toy/whatever" and I say "then PICK IT UP and get IT out of the way!" and they still stand there, like time is frozen, and the item is impervious to relocation. 

 

 

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My kids run in circles looking for towels in every place but where they are found.  Then they'll bring a single sheet of paper towel for a 16 oz spill.

And speaking of things like puke...  DH usually wakes up and sometimes leaves before I wake up.  When he finds cat or dog puke on the carpet, he places a folded up paper towel on top of it and leaves it there to dry into the carpet.

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One day I got tired of the ratty bath towels we were using. So I replaced them and brought the old ones downstairs and dubbed them "barn towels", folded them neatly and placed them in the laundry room. It astounds me how often someone yells, "Get a barn towel!" Those towels have seen a thousand times more use than they ever did as mere bath towels. When they finally get too many holes to be reliably useful any more, I throw them away. And usually by that time, I have a few more upstairs that have lost their hem, are picked, perhaps have a tiny bleach spot here or there, so they get to join the ranks of the barn towels.

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Stopping the baby, that's the problem around here!

 

Toddler is eating yogurt at the coffee table, daddy lets baby out of the high chair. Baby makes a beeline to play finger paints in toddlers food. I yell 'no baby, quick, get her!' from the other side of the room where I am doing something which makes getting up difficult while daddy stands there like a deer in headlights watching baby play paints and then gets upset at me for yelling instead of getting up (because toddler subsequently began screaming which made baby begin bawling, and DH struggles a lot with becoming overwhelmed, particularly by auditory stimuli. I suspect he has undiagnosed ADHD)

 

Sigh. Does it really take that long to figure out that if problem = baby making big mess, solution = pick up the baby?!

 

But, in fairness, I am actually the one who completely forgets to pick up the spilling item when that happens. It just doesn't occur to me!

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Same phenomenon here. And dd8 and dh will also just STAND THERE AND HOLLER while ds3 makes a huge mess. Thankfully, he's getting better but he still gets into things he shouldn't sometimes. Today, I was in the bathroom when I heard dd screaming, "No! NO!" When I was able to emerge, I found that she had left a mug of tea in her room, which he had dumped, as she watched, on her bed. The bed with the freshly cleaned sheets, which I had just put on about two hours previously.

 

When dd was a newborn, dh was changing her diaper when she started to pee. He stood there, yelling, with a clean diaper IN HIS HAND, while pee ran all over the changing table and dripped onto the carpet. I had to get out of bed and clean it up. :banghead:

 

ETA: DH is great about cleaning up usually, but he's terrible in a crisis.

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