Thursday, April 15

Local woman sacrifices self-respect to naked toddler, neighbors report

I've decided I'm going to start writing all my post titles as headlines. To get back in touch with my newspaper roots.

You probably haven't noticed, but I've been somewhat scarce around these parts lately. It's not apathy or a general Giving Up On Blogging. Actually what it is, is a combination of being a stay-at-home parent and a full-time grad student in the final weeks of a semester.

Let me just say this: At 11 p.m., after you've had an ornery two-year-old virtually attached to your face for the last seven hours, the last thing you want to do is read 150 pages of literary theory. In fact, you just might fantasize about what you might say to that theorist if you ever met him or her in real life. Most of the scenarios end with the phrase, "Bend over and I'll show ya" (thanks Clark Griswold).

Yesterday I threw in the towel, parenting-wise. I knew it had happened when I found myself crouching in the verge in front of my parents house at the behest of a nude toddler who had just peed behind their trash bin, a dictatorial companion who was also making me assault the hedges alongside him with some miniature plastic golf clubs. "This is what it's come to," I thought.

Luckily my parents neighbors were either employed or indoors, so as far as I know nobody witnessed the ridiculousness. Although I don't think I would have cared much if they did.

Shortly thereafter when I insisted Ethan put on some clothes to play outside, and he stood firm on his Clothes Are For Chumps position, I might have thrown his t-shirt across the room. Word to the wise: Kids love when adults throw tantrums, and they'll often join in. We spent the better part of five minutes firing garments at each other and laughing.

But at 10:30 last night, before Noah was home from the baseball game he was working, Ethan had the last laugh. He was still awake, all elbows and knees tenderizing my soft parts (of which there are too many), sitting on the couch with me watching old episodes of The Office.

"Michael," he whispered, pointing at the TV before taking a bite of his cookie.

"Oh, Michael," I sighed.

7 comments:

Bethany said...

We need to give each other a big ehug after finals. *wimper*

Slamdunk said...

Hang in there mom--you are doing a great job juggling.

Our youngest is a stripper as well, and I should just have a standing apology for the neighbors who have to regularly view: parent chasing naked kid in the back yard.

stephanie said...

good luck with the rest of your semester erin. you're getting close!

sounds like you are handling a little nude toddler pretty darn well :)

Anonymous said...

The fact that he can identify Michael cracks me up! Does he call out Dwight, too?

ang said...

the fact that your son can point out michael just made my day.

and i thought my day was already made when i found out i could stream netflix on my wii.

;)

Lisa@Pickles and Cheese said...

When you are a little boy...the world can be your toilet! As a girl I have always been envious of that fact. Good luck with your classes. Yes, hang in there!

Erin said...

You guys are the best.

Anon & Ang—I was shocked actually, when he said it for the first time the other day. He just said "Michael" and pointed at the screen, all on his own. I'll have to test his Office knowledge to see the extent of it.

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