My Frangelica. What else would I be calling my three-year-old who has hopped out of bed at nap time. The sweet couple of hours a day where we regroup are going to be leaving us soon. I know nap time can’t last forever, but…five more minutes! Come on!
I should have known, because today I was restless during his nap time. Should I meditate and then fall asleep after only balancing my three lower chakras? Should I read something useful? Should I take the movie back to Red Box? It was a cereal aisle of indecision. Should I eat cereal maybe?
The door opens and he’s got poo-poo. I stay positive, because he is serenading me with the song I began singing him at birth. I’m not proud, but here goes: Let’s take the dookie from your diaper. Let’s take the mushy from your tushy. Let’s make your bootie feel better. Let’s make it not smell like cheddar. Then you improv with a little let’s take the dookie, let’s take dookie, let’s take the dookie.
I send him back to bed and fetch my laptop. Maybe I’ll write that masterpiece now.
The door opens and he comes back out,
Me: Elliot, it’s nap time. Go back to bed.
Elliot: No, I can’t because it’s time for oatmeal.
Me: No, it’s not. (Dad chimes in) Elliot go back to bed.
Elliot: Okay. (starts closing the hallway door.) I miss you, mama.
Me: I miss you too. Go to bed.
(From inside his room) Elliot: lalabla.
Me: Elliot go to sleep.
Elliot: What you say?
Me: Elliot Grissom go to sleep!
Elliot: What are you doing, mama?
Me: Waiting for you to go to sleep?
Elliot: What’s daddy doing?
Me: Waiting for you to go to sleep.
(Door opens to his bedroom and the hallway)
Elliot: What you say about me?
Me: Nothing. Go to sleep or no party (he has two birthdays).
Elliot: I miss you, mama.
BOTTOM LINE: KID IS OUT OF BED AND NOW I CAN’T WRITE THIS BLOG! GOD!!!!!!!
I’m back, and now I feel bad because he made me laugh then I yelled at him to get back in bed. Now he’s saying he had a bad dream, but he hasn’t fallen asleep. These two hours were going to be the time I buckled down, the time I wrote something or aligned myself with my soul purpose, or organized my fridge. Oh, gosh, these two hours I took for granted. Like my twenties they went by so fast.
Elliot:I had a bad dream.
Me: Go to sleep.
Elliot: Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why?
(Shhhhh. The WHY phase. GD it came so fast. I knew it was coming. I never read any books. Wasn’t there a brochure or something I tucked under the bed? No, that explains toxic shock syndrome. Grrrrrr.)
Elliot: I hurt myself. I have a boo-boo.
Me: (Not buying it and looking at his exposed elbow.)
Elliot’s brow is furrowed. It really hurts he tries to say. I feel like I’m trying to hide a fart in church. I can’t help but smile. Then the giggle rises and I bury my face into the side of a nearby cat to stop him from seeing.
Me: Go back to bed. It’s quiet time.