The Reason I Need a Getaway
I told the professor that I'm not blogging right now because it would just be a litany of messes and scrapes by this one. "Today I nearly throttled my son because he shouted 'SHUT UP' at me all through the grocery store. Today I nearly killed him when he dumped out two baskets of clean laundry I'd just folded and danced on the clothes. Today I wanted to drop kick him to the state line when he ordered six things for breakfast, wouldn't eat any of them and then threw them on the floor so he could fingerpaint with the yogurt."
No one would want to read it, including me.
So instead I've escaped three times in the last three months and it's been heavenly. When I come home I am ready to take more of the daily punishment he dishes out. Of course he's equal parts exasperating and darling:
Here he is in the swim diaper he insisted on, going through my desk. Last night he drew on some tax forms. Then he shredded them. The darling part of him is solely for survival.
Yumberries = peas
Jungleberries = broccoli
Roseberries = raspberries
Papa at the BIU?= the first thing he asks in the morning
Papa coming to Joss house for dinner today? = the second thing he asks each morning
Where my Lolo, Sebi is? = the third thing he asks each morning
Where my Maddie is? = the fourth question out of his mouth
Get my dress on? = Ansehen= to get dressed
Mama you getta your dress on we go dinosaur mooseum? = his daily agenda
CaI watch Maisy? = first thing he asks in the car
naptime = his recharging/my sanity
Comments
I have a bruise on my right arm where Rose BIT me yesterday in the middle of the testimony meeting because I wouldn't let her draw with a pen (sick of ink stains on church dresses) and we didn't have pencils. So I could use more escapes from parenting, too.