Hot n’ fresh out the kitchen
I’m standing at my kitchen island as I am writing this. My kiddo is emptying our entire Tupperware drawer. It’s keeping her busy SO WHATEVER. And I’m just gonna take all the Tupperware and shove it back in the drawer when she’s done. We already season our food with dog hair, so a little dirt don’t hurt.
Sometimes when I am prepping a meal in the kitchen, I find myself freezing when I hear the pitter patter of her bare feet approaching me. If I don’t move, can she still see me?
Other moments we’re playing tag in the kitchen. She’s always “it”, and I’m doing an awkward jazz square so she can’t grab me. If she can’t tug on my pants, I don’t have to pick her up. She doesn’t quite get the rules of this game.
I’m on to him
My husband is a great father, so don’t let this message alter any perception of him, but he doesn’t really understand the SAHM struggle. When she’s been fussy and needy all day, he’ll be like “Well… Did you try turning it off and on again?” Pretend there are 5 eyeroll emojis right here.
Also, he conveniently needs use the “facilities” whenever I need help during bath time. Technically, I don’t need help, but it’s significantly easier to have two extra hands on the changing table when she decides now is the best time to practice for WWE.
The hubs learned that trick from my father in law, who conveniently throws his back out around Christmas when presents need to be wrapped. This is when my father in law would interject and say, “Well… You married him.” More eyeroll emojis please.
I reserve puffs for rare occasions because they are always a win for her. I’ll use them If I’m in a pinch at the mall or if she’s screaming and her food took longer to cook than expected. Today I gave her puffs four times.
Once when her breakfast wasn’t ready, once when she refused to eat her lunch, once when I needed to distract her when I needed to… ummm… use the “facilities” and once when I needed to put her down on the floor so I could make a cocktail. I need two hands to pour a drink. This is a judgement free zone. Okay?
Just when I think I have this mom thing down, I find her eating toilet paper. Also, someone tell her that I want to wipe her butt LESS than she wants me to. I promise. This isn’t enjoyable for either party.
I’m going to try to laugh at the chaos caused by my Tasmanian devil and enjoy her grabby hands while she still wants to reach for me.