I’m in my chair having a beer.
Viv just asked me to come see if the tv show she wants to watch is one we have to pay for.
I gave her my phone to go take a picture of the tv screen and walk it back over to me.
My parenting skills have peaked.
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Mama, making pancakes: “Viv, is it one egg or two? I can never remember”
Viv: “One. It’s one egg.”
Charlie, running past at top speed, naked: “Or TWO, maybe TWO!”
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It’s hard to have the energy at the end of a work day, when you’ve given all your “nice” to everyone else, to listen to a toddler tell a story. It’s impossible to remember the cute thing a kid said a day later. I’m hoping my camera lens and a few zingers we managed to capture on paper will be enough to remind us years from now (should we survive that long) of that time the kids did that thing once with the stuff at that place.
Also, it will always be “Butt Lightyear”.
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Charliepants: "Mama, can you put on your talking show?".
Mama,smiling and thinking: See, all the NPR will pay off. Screw Paulie and his Arthur and his singalongs and his knowing all the names on Paw Patrol. Little kids DO like the things I like. I AM a fun mom.
"Oh honey, do you like mama's talking show?"
Charliepants: "No, YOU do."
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When I give him food that is hot, with the predictable parental warning—“wait for it to cool down honey”, Charlie says “Warm, Mama, warm. I’m going to wait for it to get WARM.”
Happy Birthday Charlie.
You adorable little shit.
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A little tidbit to share in honor of my kids papa whom I could not have done a better job selecting. (Yes, I turned that accolade right back to myself. Sorry not sorry I’m really proud of that accomplishment; ie: powering through my fertile thirties solo and happy).
Me: “Thanks for picking up greek food, that’s just what I needed, I’m so tired from work tonight.”
Charming Husband: “Not all gyros wear capes!”
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I just found out that what the kids call “Night Cat”, the creature I assumed was an imaginary figure of bedtime story imaginations and toddler conversations, is in fact, real. And now I have to move.
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”Whatcha doing?”
”Just hanging out.”
”No Mama! We are hanging IN. We are IN the house”.
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A millennial recently asked me what it’s like to have kids and be married. In summary:
”Hey, look how cute these undies I got at Costco are!”
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I’m stuck. I’m mentally obsessing with work things I can’t control, that don’t really matter in the big picture, and in general my big picture is currently very hard to see. Now that the house is (mostly) done and the local election is over, I don’t have anything new to put my rushing brain to. I’m feeling a bit like a gerbil on a wheel. Lots of energy, no direction.
This isn’t unusual for me, it comes with the spring daylight (SAD likes to fuck with you coming and going). It too shall pass.
In the meantime, maybe I can try my kids approach to living in the moment and going with the flow.
On the other hand, maybe I should just teach them how to use a damn slide.
