I have a cold (thanks a lot, Mom) and worked last night, so I was napping when Little Sprout decided to start screaming upon Mr. Barefoot's departure for the blessed land of Rehearsal With No Kids.
The Sprout seemed to be perishing of hunger, so I threw some Sprout treats at her and settled in to read some of your blogs and generally get caught up on the 'puter.
All was well for about 5 minutes, then Big Sprout wanted something.
Then Little Sprout was out of crackers.
Then Big Sprout had to ask for ice cream.
And Little Sprout wanted more crackers.
Then Big Sprout wanted a cookie and to discuss why it is, exactly, that Daddy makes her clean her room and not Little Sprout.
Then she wanted to discuss the inner workings of the dishwasher. Oh, and by the way, can she have a Hershey?
Pretty soon Little Sprout is screaming to get down, and starts bashing me with the Telletubbies movie case. Taking this as a polite request, I start the (much hated) movie while Big Sprout continues to pepper me with the most dreaded of all questions...."Guess What?"
"Guess What?" only narrowly beats out "You wanna know what?" in the race for Most Hated Question of the House. But I digress...
While I am fielding the constant flow of commentary and questions from Big Sprout and mentally begging for Peace and Quiet (also known as The Holy Grail of Motherhood), I notice that Little Sprout is turning a very ugly shade of purple and making the most animalistic grunting noises. One look at her face was all it took for me to know that we were headed for a diaper change.
Soon, a smell so atrocious that it was peeling the cheap veneer off my computer cabinet came rolling towards me. I quickly gave thanks to whatever gods blessed me with this cold so that I couldn't actually smell it, and took LS in for a diaper change. Upon unfastening her diaper, I found two lonely little rabbit turds, and knew that it would be a long hard road to the end of this day.
Luckily, in a burst of genius, I reminded Big Sprout that she is grounded for one week or until her room is clean (whichever is longest), which has saved me from the constant chatter and answer seeking from her.
Now I just gotta figure out how to get the Little one potty trained and able to cook herself a meal, and I can take a nap.
3 comments:
It's probably very wrong, and I will be going to a special hell for sniggering mommies, but your post made me laugh remembering some of those very events in my mommyhood. Thanks for the giggles!
*Ahem* I mean, I am so very sorry you are 1) sick, 2) aggravated by the Sprouts, and 3) seeing the light at the end of the mommy tunnel and being just sure it is the train coming at you!
I'm sure tomorrow will be better. If not, you will write about it, and I will nod my head remembering and giggle at your expense.
I happen to know that there is a special hell for women who laugh at other's parenting troubles. It is full of bottoms in need of diaper changes, bottles that have been hidden under the couch for a week with sour milk in them, and a steady soundtrack of "Why? Hey, Mom, you wanna know somefin? Guess what? Ummmm...". There will be little demons that insist on being "up" only to bash you in the face with their adorable little dollies made of concrete and then jump down while you are gasping for breath, only to want "up" again immediately. Tenants of this level of hell will be forced to repeatedly wash walls, couches, and their favorite blouses again and again while chocolate-y fingerprints magically reappear the minute they are removed. Snotty noses will abound, and hair will snarl itself into massive rat's nests that need to be picked out VERY GENTLY, because "I have a sensitive scalp, you know".
All I can say is, I can't wait till all this is happening to someone else, because I will laugh my butt off and secure my own place in that hell. :)
I'll save you a seat! I've had my place reserved for so long that I have companion reserving rights too!
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