I'm learning some of the reasons why people say being a mom is a lot of work.
Yes, yes. I'm well aware of the sleepless nights, the diaper changes, the discipline games, the eat-this-piece-of-broccoli-so-help-me standoffs. But it's the intentionality that's starting to get me. Sometimes, Charlie and I sit there and stare at each other. And I think,
Wait. I'm the Mom. I'm supposed to come up with something educational/productive/entertaining for us both to do? At this very moment?
Shoot.
Compounding the problem? The fact that, in my own house, I'm an anti-mess sort of person. Clean up after yourself -- or better yet, yeah... just don't do anything that requires cleaning up.
(Note the point of conflict between my lofty ideals and a one-year-old.)
So, I'm starting to learn how to get messy. Some parents can let their kids dump dirt on the floor and just clean it up later. Others do scrapbooking and cutting and gluing on the dining room table, with little scraps of pink construction-paper stars getting wedged between the floorboards or glued to the underside of the chairs. I applaud their bravery, and their creativity.
Me? I decided to start with
water.
Doesn't this look idyllic? Charlie, happily playing away in the sink. Mommy, happily snapping pictures.
Actually:
Charlie had a cold. His nose was dripping all over the place.
Being the responsible mother I am... I was propping him up with my foot (so that he wouldn't fall off the chair) and taking pictures at the same time.
Then he started sucking on the hose nozzle thing. Do you have any idea how many germs are on a kitchen hose nozzle thing?
And then (of course) water was everywhere.
Down his pants.
Inside the cabinet.
On the floor.
But, Charlie
was happily playing away in the sink.
I was just, more or less,
stressfully taking pictures,
trying not to think about the water on the floor,
and giving myself a little pep-talk:
There! Good effort, newbie-mom. Good effort.
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