Tuesday, March 2, 2010

Mary Poppins... for the moment

I love my clueless little children.

Which brings me to a very important question... when can I expect my boys to realize I'm not perfect?

I mean, when I yell, they laugh (which is actually quite frustrating sometimes, but a whole lot better than making them cry). 

When I cry, my little toddler climbs on my lap and kisses away my tears (making me wish I could cry at will, a talent I most regretably lack... suggestions welcome). 

When I stick the Tine in front of the television just to get him out of my hair he thinks... well, he doesn't actually care why, just so long as he gets to embark on a wacky adventure with Dora and her cute sidekick, Boots. 

This morning he sprinted out of his room and into our bed at 6:30.  While not particularly early for him, my late-night rendezvous with The Bachelor followed by multiple curtain calls to the baby's room left me completely exhuasted.

I drug myself out of bed and proceeded to heatedly chastise him for awakening before the sun.  As I stumbled around mumbling about my ridiculous life and my ridiculous son he looked at me with his big brown eyes and sang, "Happy dirtday to you!" with the goofiest grin on his face.

In similar news, recently my husband was home on yet another snow day.  While an extra day at home with the hubby may seem desirable, all I ever end up with is a third child to feed and clean up after. 

In the height of my frustration I yelled something about dirty towels or crying babies or worthless husbands (possibly all of the above) then stormed out of the room, slamming the door to the bathroom behind me. 

Meanwhile I hear a pause in the living room as though my family is recovering from an earthquake.  Then, with all the comedic timing of a trained professional, my toddler laughingly drawls, "Moooommy!  Oh Mommy," as though I cracked a killer joke (and also disturbingly like my husband's light-hearted rebuttals to my infamous, monthly mood swings).

I know someday when I yell he is going to yell right back.

I am sure a time will come when he rolls his eyes at my tears.

A realize that eventually he will turn the TV on to escape me instead of vice versa.

I only wonder how long I can enjoy this ignorant biss.

1 comment:

  1. It's amazing how one minute we can be so frustrated with our lives and then in the next minute we feel so blessed. My kids have a way of making me appreciate life so much more!!

    BTW, one of my 2-yr old twins HATES to see me cry so when I really want him to do something, I pretend to cry. Immediately, he does what I've asked him to do and says, "Mommy, no cry". I feel bad for manipulating him....well, okay, I actually don't!


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