Hey so raise your hand if you woke up covered in pee this morning. Just me? Ok.
My 22-month-old son has gone from peaceful-angel sleeper to hellish baby-sweat-covered, cling-on child overnight. He cries every night now until I go get him out of his bed and bring him to bed with me, which would be fine except he positions himself so his butt/crotch are on or around my face and then proceeds to pee … like no one has ever peed before. Soooo I wake up covered in baby urine (luckily he’s really cute so even his pee doesn’t bother me) and peel myself out of bed, take a shower and try to get ready while playing PBS Kids disc jockey and line-cook extrordinare. Then it’s off to daycare, then work then back to daycare, dinner and laundry, dishes, kitchen clean-up, more laundry, vacuuming while my dog tries to maul the vacuum cleaner and my son cries because the noise is “too loud, mommy.” Then it’s bath time and lotion, new diaper, jammies which are “too big, mommy!” and some late-night animal crackers and milk. Feed the lizard, feed the dog, pick up pool toys and rocks and dinosaurs and trucks. Search for the “doggie movie” which is in one of the 10,000 video game cases in the bonus room. Find the “doggie move” in the “Grand Theft Auto” box. Didn’t I say I didn’t want that game in my house? No time for the battle. Explain that Cruella DeVille is not real and that no one wants to make coats out of dogs … feel slightly crappy that that’s not entirely true. Now it’s time for the nightly toothbrush battle (which makes world wrestling look tame) and finally story time and lights-out. Stagger out of my son’s room knowing damn well that I have MAYBE 4-hours until I’m covered in urine. Set my alarm for 5:30 a.m. and kiss my husband (I still have a husband?!) before collapsing into bed. Days are full to say the least and I only have ONE little at home. I have a neighbor with twins. She should be nominated for sainthood.
Here’s the flip side:
Raise your hand if you woke up next to the one person who loves you more than life itself this morning? Mom life is pretty good, right ladies?
My 22-month-old son has is going through a growth spurt or some kind of developmental leap and he feels a renewed need for my nearness these days. He calls for me every night now until I go pick up his sweet little body and carry him back into bed with me. His legs hurt at night (growing pains) so he tosses and turns, usually so much that he ends up with his little rear end up by my face. Let’s just say I know when it’s diaper change time in the morning. My alarm goes off early so I can have some me time, take a shower and enjoy the clean, hot water and silence before his little eyes open up, ready to be stimulated. It’s PBS Kids time! I listen to him sing along to “Peg + cat” and do the little workouts on commercial breaks including “marching like a dinosaur” and “flapping like a bird.” Breakfast time, mommy! Eggies and a granola bar and some yogurt and berries and milk. Just enough time to marvel at how much he has grown, at his independence, his strong-will (we’re going to be in for it when he’s a teenager) and his sweet, darling disposition. I made him. I’m the best person, ever.
Then it’s off to daycare, where I know he’s safe and loved. On to work where I make plenty of money to take care of my family, talk about blessed. Back to daycare, make a healthy, delicious dinner do some laundry, sing the Barney cleanup song with my adorable son as he “helps mommy” do dishes. Kitchen clean-up, fold my warm laundry, laugh while my dog tries to attack the vacuum, which distracts my little guy from his fear of loud noises. Then it’s bath time and lotion, new diaper, jammies which gives me the opportunity to explain sizes and what “too big” and “too small” means. Late-night animal crackers and milk. Feed the lizard, Steve, causing Wyatt to squeal with excitement. Feed the dog, Maggie, who is maybe the best dog in the world. Pick up all of the evidence around my home that I have active, healthy, creative children. Search for the “doggie movie” which is in one of the 10,000 video game cases in the bonus room. Feel blessed that we can support our son’s interests and also feel blessed that a lot of these cases are covered in dust from non-use. Thank goodness there are so many pool toys strewn about. Find the “doggie move” in the “Grand Theft Auto” box. Didn’t I say I didn’t want that game in my house? Decide there are worse things than a few violent video games. Pick my battles. Explain that Cruella DeVille is not real and that no one wants to make coats out of dogs … say a prayer that my son will be part of a better, future society that does not stand for animal cruelty. Now it’s time for the nightly toothbrush battle, which I always win and usually ends with laughter and a yummy glass of cold water. Bed time. Snuggle up to my baby boy and read him a book about equality and love, then a book about Lightning McQueen, which he likes WAY more. I can try, right? Walk out of his room away from the sounds of his little sleepy sighs and miss him a little as I close the door. He’s growing up so fast. Oh well, It will only be 4 hours until I get to cuddle him again. Kiss my husband, I love him so much. This is a busy season but he is a great partner. Set my alarm for 5:30 a.m. Days are full and that means I’m doing something right.
It’s all about perspective, isn’t it?