When I was pregnant 20,000 years ago, my cousin gave me a book titled, "The Baby is Disappointing".
Interested? Watch the below narrated video (start at 1:00) unless you don't have a sense of humor. If that's the case, it's your funeral, man.
The thing is, this little book's points ring true years after my baby has grown into a boy-child. Just last week I quoted it while driving through Chicago's Lincoln Park neighborhood: "They laugh amongst themselves, our stylish friends, once they return to their bohemian lives." Of course, we didn't actually know the identities of the hip silhouettes spied from the street, but these strangers appeared to be living a raucous and lavish lifestyle. Meanwhile our kid was pitching a shit-fit because I ran out of gum, or sang too loudly/softly or dared to breathe.
And today is Saturday. Do you know what that means? For many, it's a day of leisure. For us, it signals day three of family time (vs. school) and a 4 AM alarm via a mist of sweaty kid breath. One lucky parent might even be the recipient of a cough directly into his or her mouthhole. Seriously, he hates our faces.
Monday through Wednesday (AKA school days), it's virtually impossible to get EK out of bed. I mean, he is dead to the world until he is certain I will be exactly 30 minutes late to work. Thursday through Sunday it's more like, "LET'S WATCH THE SUN RISE EVERYBODY!!!!! Neighbors with the four roosters...you don't even need those loud bastards!"
Sidenote - why have four roosters but no hens? I am utterly befuddled.
Think I am exagerating re: this bizarro wake-up schedule? Not this time, suckers. Generally, one or more of the following statements are screamed into our earholes before the sun is up: "Let's make a plane! Let's play with Legos! Let's make a Lego plane! I'm hungry, let's eat some ham. My nose itches. You look old. Isn't it great when we all wake up happy? WHERE IS DAD?????????????????????????????"(cue tears).
And if it's a day I am scheduled to work, I ttempt to dress a human imitating a wet noodle. Limpy EK! On Tuesday he yelled, "just go to work and let me sleep!". Whatever, jerkwad.
I honestly don't know which is more frustrating: the inability to rouse my kid from his bed by 7:20 AM on school days (and avoid me getting fired), or my level of intolerance for a 4 AM wake-up call Sunday morning.
Crap, I guess I'll take 4:00 AM. Two unmonitored hours of cartoon-watching provides the perfect steaming mug of guilt and neglect to start the weekend off right.
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