Tuesday, 17 November 2015

Because toddler.

Insisting on being left alone to pee with the door closed, and proceeding to unravel and entire roll of toilet paper and feed it into the toilet. 

Singing Happy Birthday to the candle inside the jack-o-lantern. 

Singing Happy Birthday when the Christmas lights turn on. 

Insisting on singing the wheels on the bus all. the. time. 

Singing the ABCs and completely messing up the LMNOP part. 

Counting to 30 but always forgetting one of the teens. 

Playing make-believe with several small figurine horses inside a giant styrofoam box on the front lawn. 

Apologising to her own toe for stubbing it. So-yee toe! 

Carrying handfuls of leaves to the paper garbage bag. 

Yelling "self!" whenever anyone offers to help, or hands her something, or touches her. 

Asking "What *dat* noise?" for EVERY SINGLE SOUND EVER HEARD BY HUMANS. 

Yelling MAMA from her bed. Repeatedly. For 15 minutes. 

Peeing the couch. 

Doing puzzles better than I do. 

Running in giant, endless circles around the dining room, fanatically screeching at maximum lung capacity with surprisingly ear-piercing pitch, until she's falling-over dizzy and punch-drunk. 

Tuesday, 21 April 2015

Working Parent Morning Parenting

Of all the brands of parenting I've been attempting for 22 + 9 months (Late Night Feeding Parenting, Child Throwing Food Parenting, Child Falling of the Bed Face Bruise Parenting), I think the most challenging/ridiculous brand of parenting is Working Parent Morning Parenting.  

Yesterday morning, I arrived at work having forgotten my office employee pass, so I borrowed one from the security desk, thereby having to trade my driver's license.  Seems like an unfair trade, but there it is.  

Then yesterday evening, upon leaving work, I forgot to trade back, so I drove home without a driver's license.  ("Sorry Officer, will my temporary employee pass suffice?")

Last night before bed, I carefully and deliberately set my temporary pass on top of my employee pass, perched on the bathroom counter, so I would remember to bring both to the office in the morning.  

Enter: Working Parent Morning Parenting.  

Working Parent Morning Parenting means frantically brushing my teeth and curling my hair while Fraggle yells "MAHMA!" from her crib.  It means pulling Fraggle away from the cat, whose tail does not want to be yanked like tug-of-war. It means forgetting deodorant at least twice a week.  It means forgetting to put socks on, but deciding to go without because running back upstairs to get some isn't worth it.  It means arriving at work with sweaty bare feet that won't come out of my boots.  It means that I'm a coked-out chicken with multiple heads, all cut off.  

And so, of course, this morning I did not remember either of my employee passes.  Both are patiently waiting, as we speak, on the bathroom counter, meaning I had to approach the security desk this morning, requesting a second temporary pass.  

Why can't I just go home?