Aug 22 2008

The Day After

You know how sometimes you just need to say something or write something, and once you have that out of your system suddenly the world doesn’t feel so much like you’re trapped 100 meters under water and your head is seconds away from imploding? Thanks for giving me that space yesterday.

When I left work at the end of the day, the hilarious universe still had a few more tricks left for me. Cole and I had to go to the store where he proceeded to act like an asshole, and capped the trip by trying to bite me three times. I also had to field a phone call from my mother, which is something akin to playing hot potato with a goddamn grenade these days. We never know who will explode first! Fun for all!

I got home, made a craptastic Boboli pizza, made John give Cole his bath, and then tried to put Cole to bed. He fought me so much on brushing his teeth that, after several warnings about the consequences, I finally said “OK! No books, no songs, the lights are going off and it’s time to go to sleep. Goodnight.” and closed the door behind me. After he screamed “WAIT MOM!” for several minutes, I went back in and told him that he should remember what happened tonight because it will happen from now on when he fights me. I said that if he wants book and song time at night, he has to let me brush his teeth without the fighting. I’m done with that bullshit (I did not say “bullshit” to my child). And then I kissed him, told him I love him, said goodnight and sweet dreams, and walked out of the door again. Again he screamed “WAIT MOM!” for minutes, but that time I didn’t go back in. He finally realized that I wasn’t coming back and went to sleep.

John and I watched Buffy and then went to bed.

This morning, I woke up first, got up right away, and took my shower. I got dressed, made coffee, and was sitting and reading my book when I heard Cole’s door open. I went to greet him with a hug and kisses, and he happily hugged and kissed me back, even kissing my cheeks like I do to him. Then he climbed into his “house” (two laundry drying racks with a blanket over the top) and made me Superman pancakes and fed them to me. They may have been made from dog hair and imagination, but they were delicious, and so filling!

Then I took him to school and laughed with his teacher and drove to work and read emails and drank water and talked to people and did my job.

And that’s what you do next. You live.

2 Comments

  • By HeatherPride, August 22, 2008 @ 11:46 am

    Don’t worry, you’re still a good mommy. If it makes you feel better? One time when my son was 2 he was being such an enormous BRAT that I locked myself in the bathroom to get away from him. Well, turns out it didn’t work so well. He body-slammed the door so hard it knocked a picture off the wall, which fell and broke into a hundred pieces.

    Your kid will live through it. See, he gave you Superman pancakes. You rock.

  • By Jami, August 25, 2008 @ 12:06 pm

    Yes, you live. And – in your case – very well! Because only VERY special people get Superman pancakes.

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