Friday, November 2, 2012

Channeling Steve Martin

It's easy to look at photos with rose colored glasses.  Yes, there are beautiful moments, and the majority of our life right now is so full of awkward moments that it resembles a Steve Martin comedy.

Scene 1:
Naptime for Tater.  I get her comfy on the couch with her binky and lovie.  I get the boys interested in quiet toys and books.  All quiet on the western front until Tater's eyes droop and her toes begin to twitch.  As she falls off to dreamland, I ease myself off the couch and make the quick/quiet dash to the bedroom.  But Spork spots me and abandons his quiet toys for the chomping gators, which he pushes frantically after me, and Tater startles awake.  Repeat scene 3x, but switch the gators for a.) the noisy toy vacuum b.) low tech with a tin and a wooden spoon and c.) the old standby, screaming.  The Nugget joins in with a whine, noticing that, "Why is it taking FOREVER for Tater Tot to go to sleep?  I need some attention!"  End scene with everyone crying, nobody napping, and Mama brewing a fresh pot of coffee.

Scene 2:
Cooking dinner.  Round up babies from the backyard and deposit them on kitchen floor with toys.  Begin cooking dinner.  The Nugget starts screaming from the backyard for no apparent reason, just 5yo angst.  Stop cooking to calm Nugget and escort him to room.  Spork starts screaming because big brother is upset.  Spork steps on Tater's fingers.  Phone rings, Hubby is going to be late and wants to chat and I testily-but-politely-as-I-can-muster remind him that I am a little busy.  Doorbell rings, Doggie goes ballistic.  Both babies poop their diapers.  I fantasize about winning the lottery so I could order takeout every single day.

Scene 3:
Daddy arrives home from work.  Instead of running to him for a cuddle, an overtired Spork simply collapses on the floor screaming in a desperate bid for Daddy's immediate attention.  The Nugget leaves his dinner on the table to give Daddy a hug, only to return to find that Doggie has helped herself to his unattended sandwich.  Screamer #2, that's your cue.  I take a deep breath, consider getting earplugs, and smile at Tater, who is wound around Daddy's leg yet maintains her composure despite the chaos...but what's this?  Mischievous girl-child is smiling because she has unfastened one side of her diaper (poopy again of course), which is now dangling down her leg.

In my weaker moments, I join in the whining and snapping and am surely sporting a pair of crazy eyes that would make Mr. Martin proud.  In my better moments, I laugh it off and remind myself how blessed I am to be in this crazy space full of live and love, sibling spats and baby food all over my shirt.


1 comment:

  1. The way you describe these scenes take me right to your house. I thought my two were hard, but sheesh! It's great that you can find the good in all this. You are a rock star mama, Annie! Love, ~Christa

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