Mendolonium

There are substantive things I would like to write about like industrial egg production and how national security is the most flaming red herring of the past decade, but I am so cranky I can barely form a coherent thought here’s a dose of crank.

To Thomas:  Please for the love of all that exists be quiet for 30 seconds – please.  It would have been nice if you had not spent the entire 1.8 mile round trip walk to the UPS store asking questions incessantly.  Imagine 40 minutes of walking something like this:

Thomas:  “Mama, did we go trick or treating at this house?”

Me, “I don’t know. Probably.  We did go up this street.”

Thomas: “I know.  But did we go to this house?”

Me:  “I don’t know.”

Thomas:  “You know.”

Me:  “I don’t know.”

Thomas:  “You know!”

Me:  “No, I really don’t know.  What do you think?”

Thomas: ” You know and you’re not telling me!!!”

Me:  (stopping the stroller and coming around to talk to Thomas face-to-face):  I really don’t know and it isn’t nice to yell at mama.  I am trying my best and being honest with you.  Now stop harassing me.”

Thomas (quiet for perhaps 10 seconds):  Was this one of the scary houses?

Me (having no idea which house he means):  “Yes.  Yes it was.”

Also, FYI, the word “please” loses it’s effectiveness if said in a whiny voice while writhing on the floor.  Finally, you know where your water bottle/a napkin/a nose wipe/that puzzle piece is.  Get it yourself.

To Henry:  Please sleep by yourself again – for longer than 20 minutes at a time.  I know, I know, eight/nine month sleep regression.  You’re learning to stand up, talk, and realizing that the world is a very big place and it is overwhelming.   I love you and I feel for you, I really do.  But I am tired, so very tired.  Seven times is really not an acceptable number of wake-ups in one night.  And it is really hard to go to the grocery store/plant potatoes/make Christmas presents/eat lunch while holding your sweet little crazy sleeping self.  If you want to be plastered to me while you are sleeping, it would be nice if you would tolerate a sling.  I normally feel like  you are growing up far to quickly, but just this once, it would be ok if you rushed through this particular phase.  And you know, your dad is a really great guy and is just trying to help you go back to sleep.   Although he may not be the world’s greatest singer, he’s not that bad, and he is quite good at holding babies, so stop screaming like he is pinching you relentlessly.  I know he doesn’t have boobies full of milk, but try not to hold it against him.

To Kermit (the dog):  Stop losing your mind and turning into a mad dog at the mail carrier.  We’ve lived here for seven years and she has yet to harm us.  Why don’t you bark at the solicitors or, say, the burglar. who tried to break into our house earlier this year. – that would be helpful.  Harassing the person that brings us presents is not.

To Cossette (the cat): You are not starving.  You are actually quite plump.  Stop whining.

To Jeff:  Stop eating Hershey’s kisses in front of Thomas!  If you do that, you have to give him one and the boy has enough behavior issues lately without being hopped up on chocolate.  Also, stop leaving the little foil wrappers all over the damned house.

I think I am going to go bake now.  Chocolate crinkle cookies and fresh baguettes will fix just about anything.

Thank you.  That is all.

This entry was posted on Saturday, December 19th, 2009 at 9:20 pm and is filed under Me, Theodore, Thomas. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Both comments and pings are currently closed.