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May 1, 2006 / allyo

Don’t let the door hit your rear end on the way out

As difficult as being at work can be these days (THANK YOU for all the support), this was one of those mornings when I was perfectly happy to wave goodbye to my darling child and shut my front door. So happy, I gave out a little cheer. No, I am not ashamed.

We’ve had some sort of low-level illness for about 10 days now. First it was a stomach thing. Now it’s a runny nose that turned into a stuffy nose last night, which kept my darling boy from falling asleep until 9 freaking thirty. And napping this weekend? Ha. Small, off-schedule naps are all we got and I think we were lucky to get those. It’s funny, after a few weeks of predictable sleeping habits, I’m not as flexible as I once was.

And the food. We’ve had a good run of actual eating, and alas, it’s come to an end. It’s funny, you always hear how they won’t starve themselves, and I’m sure they won’t, but what you don’t hear is how, when they’re not starving themselves, they’re still hungry, pissy, little pains in the butts. And the randomness! What will today bring? Is it going to be a give me everything mooshed together in one bowl day? Or a, dear god, don’t let my food touch day? Or how about the ever-popular, not only can my food not touch, but don’t you dare give it to me on the same plate – no, not even at the same time! How dare my food be in the same zipcode?!?

And the pulling of the hair. Oh my goodness. I’m pretty patient with his highness, but when he grabs a fistfull of hair, with that look of unholy glee on his face, I give him exactly what he’s looking for – a big, fat, noisy, reaction. There’s just something about MY CHILD – the one who’s butt I wipe, the one I’ve nursed now for 18 months, some days begrudgingly, who’s whims I’ve catered to – actually, deliberately, causing me physical pain that sets me off. Oooh, it makes me so mad.

Little #!@*> darling.



Leave a Comment
  1. Emmie / May 1 2006 1:39 pm

    Oh man, I could have written almost every word of that post. I had the stomach-malfunction-turned-into-a-cold for the last week with my twins, and I have never been happier to go to work than I was this morning. And I know what you mean about flexibility. If there’s anything I can’t seem to handle, it’s regression. I hope things get easier for you.

  2. Moxie / May 2 2006 8:22 am

    I hate with a white-hot passion the age of 18 months.

    Hate it.

    For all the reasons you’ve mentioned.

    The absolute nadir of the child-rearing experience for me.

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