When are those Mommy of the Year Awards? I have another letter of recommendation to support my nomination.
Pants crawled into bed with us around 3am last night. This is a new habit of his, one that I have been unable to break. I've been unable to break it largely because I haven't tried. At all. Look, at 3am I would let a Gila monster crawl into bed with me; I'm too tired to fight it. But that's not my nomination support. No, it gets much better.
Sometime around 6:30 or so this morning, I vaguely remember Pants waking up and saying he wanted to go into the living room. I vaguely remember thinking I had better wake up and go with my three year old. I vaguely remember convincing him to wait for me for a little while longer. And I vaguely remember giving into his statement that he was really leaving this time, muttering, "I'll be right there..." and then closing my eyes for just one more minute. I was up pretty late last night, went to bed utterly exhausted, and knew that that one extra minute to rest my eyes was the miracle magic I needed to empower me to start my day off right.
zzzzzzzzz.......
7:30 am. The garage bedroom door is thrown open in a hurry as my husband runs in from his workout to grab something he forgot for work. This is what wakes me up. That's right, folks, I had been asleep for, oh, I don't know, anywhere from 15 minutes to an hour. I really have no idea. Impressed, yet? Oh, it gets even better still.
Maguire is tipped off to my stellar parenting skills when I pop up and try to act like I was maybe just, uh, testing the pillows for a second, and asks, "Where's Pants? Were you asleep? How long has he been alone in there?" He may have asked some more obnoxiously responsible questions, but I stopped listening to him when I started straining my ears to see if the Child Welfare police sirens could be heard heading my way yet or not.
Now, here's the part I'd like to submit for consideration for my nomination as Mommy of the Year:
We walk into the living room and find Pants sitting on the couch... watching Tae Bo and eating chocolate kisses for breakfast. By the sheepish grin on his face, I'd be willing to bet that he'd been eating a lot of them. For a while.
Oops. Heh heh.
At least he wasn't sitting there shaving his arms with a razor from the bathroom while watching Rock of Love, though, right? I mean, chocolate and Tae Bo. That's almost artistic.
I'll be available to accept my award for Mommy of the Year anytime, people. Anytime.
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Writer. Mother.
