I’ve had a few requests to start some kind of parenting blog, but I think the best course for me right now is just to actually use the blog I already have for a different purpose than I intended, because I’m not actually making anything right now.
What I’m doing? Surviving.
My two year old and four year old boys are both running around in the back yard, alternating between spraying each other with the garden hose, crying, throwing dirt into the duck enclosure, holding pretend space shuttle launches, and trying to get into the garden (which was fenced off FOR A REASON) – not for the plants, but to climb the ladder that I’m going to take down in about five seconds.
Okay, maybe not five seconds. The four year old is distracted by the ducks again. I have time.
This whole scenario describes an attitude I get sometimes when I’m completely touched out, don’t want to yell anymore, don’t want to force any more time outs for the kids or myself, don’t want to really do anything except blandly watch the labrador eat potato chips out of the bag, outside, because the two year old stole them off the kitchen counter and the four year old had a two-second thought process that involved feeding them to the ducks, but he forgot because he decided trying to escape into the alleyway was a better idea.
Parenting apathy. Where your standards are basically “don’t get yourself killed” and “don’t flood the bathroom again.” The labrador is an opportunist. I can’t say I blame him. Today, I locked myself in the bathroom just because I could! It’s empowering, really.
But James just got home, and he brought me tamales and said he’d try to get them to nap. I don’t even care about naps because tamales, but still. Goals.
On second thought, maybe I need that nap more than they do. Yeesh.
