Although today was supposed to be the first T.M.I. Tuseday, it’s been a busy few days and I have this for you instead…
I didn’t sleep much last night, which is uncharacteristic for me. Usually I drift off blissfully and heavily within moments of getting into bed. Around 3am I dozed off. That was after I had turned left to right a dozen times or so. When I can’t sleep right away, my pillow becomes unbearably uncomfortable. I tried sleeping without a pillow. I tried snuggling up to Michael, thinking maybe his naturally intense body heat would lull me into sweet dreams. Nope. I even crawled into bed with Luke, since snuggling up with the kids always relaxes me. It must be some smell the kids give off that I can’t actually smell that brings the sleep. Not last night, though. There was a flashlight on behind Madeleine’s crib. We let the kids take flashlights to bed and she likes to throw hers sometimes. I got up from Luke’s bed and wedged my head between the crib and the wall, while balancing on my right knee and the ball of my left foot so as to avoid crunching any of the thousands of toys scattered around the crib, and disturbing the sleeping babes. (We didn’t do much cleaning up last night.) I grabbed the flashlight, then decided to go back to my bed. Luke’s bed is very narrow. My mind was wandering, here to there, robbing me of the essential rest I need to function like a normal person. What is a normal person, anyway?
Luke, as is the routine, peered into my face with his globe-like baby blues.
“I’m ready to start the day, Mom,” he said. “Can I have Cheerios in a cup?”
I cleared my throat, “Sure, Buddy.” I put my head back on the pillow. It was as if magnetic force was pulling me back to sleep.
“Now. Mom, I’m ready to start the day now.”
I swung my legs off the bed one at a time and shuffled to the bathroom.
“Madeleine’s awake, Mom.”
“I hear her. Can I pee first?”
We began the day, albeit groggy as hell. I gave the kids waffles and fruit and then later on a “snack” for Madeleine. She’ll pretty much continue to eat all day long. I suppose all that growing a 2-year-old does makes the tummy growl.
“Can I have cheese, please, Mommy?”
“Yeah, cheese, Mom. Cheese. And cu-numbers.”
She speaks so politely and in wonderful sentences. It would be hard to deny her anything when she asks like that. Can I have a puppy, Mommy? Please? Sure, Madeleine, how about 3 puppies and a baby snow leopard?
“Cheese and cucumbers, no problem.”
The cucumber I took from the refrigerator had a label on it that read Certified Organic Belgium. How it makes more sense to import a cucumber from Europe rather than growing it here in our country is beyond my knowledge. Is it politics, trade agreements, or just cheaper? I yawned as I washed, peeled and arranged the slices on her Elmo plate with some chunks of parmesan. She took only a few bites and then began tossing the cucumbers onto the floor, making a wet, splatter sound.
“Please stop throwing,” I said.
My little daughter maintained eye contact and tossed another slice. I’m certain she could sense I wasn’t operating at full capacity.
“Freeze!” I commanded.
She tossed another slice.
“Ok, you’re done. Good bye.”
“No! Not good bye!”
I took the plate away, “See you later, lady.”
She disappeared amongst her dollhouse and mountain of toys, only to appear moments later with a bare butt. She had removed her urine-saturated diaper and was carrying various small toys in it. It was now a pocketbook.
“Oh, that’s yucky.”
“I took my diaper.”
“I see. But you know, it’s filled with pee-pee. Very yucky. And smelly.” I took the diaper and the toys so I could wash them off.
She dug her fingers into her butt.
“Get your fingers out of your butt! Dirty, yuckies!”
“It’s silly,” Madeleine giggled.
“No, it’s not. That’s how we get sick.”
“It’s funny, Mommy.”
Luke ran in, pant-less now, and began singing a song he had made up.
“I have a penis! Rockin’ around! I have a penis and I peed on myself! And then I said poo-poo face!”
American Idol here we come.