The other night I found myself involved in a fierce
freestyle battle, taking on challenger after challenger and working my way
through the ranks with searing metaphors and complicated rhymes. Familiar faces
turned up in the crowd. Old friends. From a lifetime ago. The atmosphere was
dark and smoky, and in a room full of roughnecks, it seemed I was coming out on
top. I looked to my next challenger…someone tapped my shoulder.
“Daddy. Hey daddy. Daddy.”
I opened my eyes and saw that cute little face. His eyes intent. Reality called. It was 7:03 on Sunday morning.
I opened my eyes and saw that cute little face. His eyes intent. Reality called. It was 7:03 on Sunday morning.
Yes, it was a dream. But the kid in the bed. He was
real.
We recently took the front cover of his crib off as he’d
discovered that he can climb out. Now, we hear the pitter patter of footsteps
in the wee hours of the night. And our little critter climbs up and inserts himself
between his mom and me.
The day to day battles of toddler-dom are upon us. At
tunes I have to remind myself to be a good parent. Because yes, I’ll admit it, sometimes I’m selfish.
Like when I want to run into Home Depot and grab something. Just in and out.
But there is no running anymore. The trip involves
strapping in my kid, carrying him into the store, spending a half hour to an
hour (seriously) while he plays on the mowers. Then I have to navigate what I’m
searching for with either holding him or explaining that yes, we can go ride the
mowers again. After that I have to get him back in the car and strap him in again.
Sure I could leave him with Mom and go get it done
faster. But I work all week, so I try to get the most out of my weekends.
On the other hand it’s fun taking him with me. Sure he
might lose his sh!% every now and then, but otherwise he’s a great little
helper and those mowers, I hop on one too and we might as well be at the park.
So I guess it’s all what you make of it.
He’s a two and a half. He throws fits. This is part of
the deal. We still have fun. At home I push him around on his tractor, chuckling at the things he says and wondering where he comes up with this stuff.
We walk, we swing, we ride. He might pull, kick, scream, laugh,
cry, sulk, brood, smile, sing, cheer, and then give me a wet sloppy kiss on the mouth. Then we get up and do it all again.
It’s exhausting. It’s wonderful. It’s life as I know
it.
Hey that is great. The bad news is it doesn't get any better; the good news is that it doesn't get any worse.Just differently marvellous.
ReplyDelete