Hollow Tree Ventures parenting humor
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I'm Too Sexy For This Day

I'm totally going to rock this day, I can already tell.  Do you want to know how I know?

Get up, Grumpypants.  It's a beautiful day.  Don't be stupid.

Madeline got up at 3 AM and I was so tired my eyes felt like two pancake-sized bruises but then she leaned over and gave me a huge open-mouth kiss while I was yawning, and I was immediately wide awake and laughing and all like, Yeah, let's do this.   But I was also sort of thinking,  Next time, please let me wipe the snot off your face before you stick it in my mouth.

And my heart rejoiced.

Then, realizing that I'd want another challenge right away (such a smart baby), she playfully dropped her only remaining acceptable pacifier behind the giant headboard of our 50 thousand pound bed.  Oh dear.

Have you ever heard about those parents who miraculously summon super-human strength in emergencies, lift a flaming boxcar off their trapped kid with one pinkie, and then soar off to safety with their cape flapping in the wind behind them?  Well, I totally did that - sort of - but in my case, as I watched the beloved paci tumble from her fingers, I conjured up images of the nap that was coming up in a few hours but not without that pacifier,  and I was able to channel my Inner Schwarzenegger to move the bed with one arm and retrieve the pacifier, thus averting naptime disaster.  If that's not the stuff superheroes are made of, I don't know what is.

And my biceps rejoiced.

When we got out of bed my taste buds were all going, "Hey, remember French toast?  We love that junk.  REMEMBER?"  And then I did remember, and I remembered that it only takes about five ingredients and I realized for once, we have the five ingredients I needed,  so when the other kids got up I busted out some bread and eggs and somehow figured out how to operate the stove.  There's nothing quite like the total and utter satisfaction of craving something, and then eating exactly what your craving demanded.

And my taste buds rejoiced.

As a bonus, no one dripped syrup on anything or fought over who got more French toast or refused to drink their milk.

And my nerves rejoiced.

And then I realized that Spring Break is almost over, and in a few days I can go back to neglecting just one baby all day long instead of neglecting three noisy, sticky, fuss-holes who do nothing but whine and bicker and ask for snacks three seconds after I just fed them.

And my frazzled brain cells rejoiced!

Zoe took this pic of me while I was (foolishly) letting her play with my phone.  She insisted that I use it.
I resisted, on the grounds that I didn't realize that I look so much like a
rabid hissing badger when I'm simultaneously laughing and posing for a pretend fashion shoot.
But it meant a lot to her.  Plus, this wasn't even the worst one.  All I can do is promise you I've had my shots.

But then I stopped my snarky Complain-a-thon, which had been, up to that particular moment, temporarily tinged with the slightest hint of buttery-breakfast fueled optimism, and looked at my kids.  Not the usual quick perusal, not the cursory glance I normally use just to confirm that nobody's bleeding or breaking any furniture, but a real look.   I saw that they were actually being surprisingly well-behaved.  Quiet.  Relatively calm, despite the fact that I'd just fed them enough sugar to launch a Boeing 747 loaded down with a fleet of idling Abrams tanks.

Maybe I was looking at this Spring Break thing all wrong - why was I glad to be nearing the end?  I started thinking about all the time I'd wasted telling them to pipe down, when maybe what they needed was for me to take them to the park where they could run around and be as loud as they wanted.  My mind played a slide show of the stolen moments I'd spent throwing together a scrapbook page, when we could have been gluing macaroni and glitter to some brittle, faded construction paper together.  I cringed inwardly at the times I'd read blogs on my phone instead of curling up on the couch to read The Missing Piece  with them yet again.

But all too soon my musings were interrupted.  By this.

What?  This doesn't look so bad.

I wish I could express to you, in words, how incredibly loud this was.  I know it looks like a perfectly innocent scene in which an infant holds two of her older siblings down and forces them to pray towards Mecca for some reason, but in reality it was more like an infant referee trying to lift the hands of two boxers who'd ended their Indoor Cage Match in a draw due to the rare Double Tandem Total Knock Out.  Note the completely destroyed living room in the background.  Imagine, if you will, the escalating voices, the shrieks of, "I  was playing with Maddie," the cacophony produced by a multitude of musical toys blaring at once, the constant barrage of questions.
When is Gran coming over?
Can we turn on the TV?
Do you wanna see the mini game I just unlocked?
Can my [imaginary] horse have an apple?
When is Gran coming over?
Can we go for a walk?
Aww, do I have to go for a walk?
Is it time for lunch?
Do we have school today?
When is Gran coming over?
Can I wear my sparkly shoes in the house?
What day is it?

That last one is a great question, kids. I can tell you this - it ain't Monday yet. But I'm going to absolutely rock this day nonetheless - soak up every bit of it - because as much as I really do love having the kids at home, and I love seeing them play with their baby sister, and I love hearing their joyous laughter echo throughout the house until the carefully planned pacifier-induced nap is brought to an abrupt and early end, Monday will come eventually.

And when Monday does roll around, I don't want to take a single second of the silence for granted.

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MOV said...

great post! love the way you write. :)


Kimberly said...

I am dying laughing...with you of course.
We all have those wicked mornings and I think it's awesome that you spun a positive look on it.
Oh my biceps rejoiced! You kill me.
Is it too soon to say I think I love you?

RobynHTV said...

@MOV - thank you so much!

@Kimberly, I was just impressed with myself that I didn't stumble downstairs and yell at the kids for sitting on the couch wrong or breathing too much, which is what I'd normally do. And no, it isn't too soon, it's totally mutual. ;)

Stacey said...

That Baby has superpowers, I'm sure of it. If she could only get her little hands on the Middle East situation, there would be peace. And probably yogurt melts for life.

RobynHTV said...

@Tumbleweed, wouldn't that be nice? Too bad Gerber won't return my calls (the magical baby requires payment up front).

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