Sunday, April 27, 2008

Brief rantings of an overly-exhausted mom

So... I never expected to be posting my second entry so soon, but yet, here I am.

Why is it that, as a mom, I can be completely exasperated one minute, and then completely heartsick the next?

Case in point: my three-year-old daughter. A half-hour ago, I emerged from the basement (where I was switching over laundry), only to find her shying away from me, muttering the word "Nothing" Now, let me explain... whenever my littlest little says "Nothing", that usually means she's been up to no good. See, the normal conversation goes:

Me: "What are you doing?"
Her: "Nothing"

And then, the investigation begins, to find out what it is that she's "protecting" herself from. And trust me, it usually ends badly.

This time, "nothing" meant that she'd stuck one of her socks in her potty (full-up with a fresh deposit of pee), and proceeded to "clean" her bedroom windows with the mess. I'm astounded at her level of amazement with her own waste, and wonder what goes through her little head when she thinks that a liquid that's been evacuated from her own body can possibly pass as a sufficient cleaning substance?

But, I digress.

I immediately put her on the "time out" chair (a.k.a. one of the living room chairs), and commenced my own, healthier version of clean up.

And now, I'm listening to the wailings and pleadings of a distraught toddler, trapped in an overstuffed leather chair as if she were a fly snared in a spider's web. "Please, Mommy... can I get up? I promise to be good. Pleaseohpleaseohplleeeaaaasssseeee???"

Of course my husband, who's sitting in another living room chair opposite her, is completely oblivious. He's engulfed in the current NASCAR race on TV, and doing an amazing job at totally ignoring her. (He probably has his hearing aide turned down all the way, too... which I'm sure helps tremendously!)

So that leaves me... the constant bad guy... to deal with the situation. Do I let her up, and free myself from the wretched sound of my daughter's constant pleading, or do I keep her grounded, in the sincere hopes that she'll learn a valuable lesson? There lies the rub.

Maybe I'll do what she does when she's obviously trying to ignore me. Start singing the theme song to "Spongebob Squarepants".

I'll let you know if it works.

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