… an entire day with no time to myself. Mimi once again is refusing to relax and nap. I told her I need alone time. I told her it is quiet time. I tried to lie down with her in numerous rooms in the house, to no avail. I want to put a box over the little tyrant and sit on it, wearing earplugs so I can’t hear her bloodcurdling screams. I cannot, of course, do this. She just crawled over my shoulders, across the top of the couch. I suggested going to the Barack H. Obama Presidential Library, located in the front right corner of our living room, and she won’t even do that. I must re-think this nap thing. Maybe I need to pretend they never took naps, learn to ignore them, and go about my business. I did take Mimi down to the basement to help me do laundry. She was a big help putting wet clothes into the dryer. Beenie quietly sleeps beneath her purple polar fleece tent in their bedroom.
The only thing that could possibly help me is to go away. Oh yeah! I’m going away this weekend! To the flatlands of a small section of the midwest. I lived there once, when I was younger, in my 20’s. I thought I knew everything when I lived there. I now know and fully embrace the fact that I know very little. I don’t even know how to make the one daughter who becomes irate without an afternoon nap, nap. She is singing a nice ABCD alphabet song, so that’s gotta count for something.
“Zoe and Cookie Monster, Zoe and Elmo, Zoe and Big Bird,” she chants. I know it is a sick form of brainwashing. Now her airplane is landing on Baby Alive.
Oh yeah, my mini trip. It is forty-eight hours not being responsible for anyone but me time. I leave on a plane Friday noonish. I have not been on a plane since a year before I was pregnant with the girls… I’d say summer 2005 was the last trip I flew somewhere… Albany, NY methinks… I shouldn’t look at this as a vacation, because it won’t be one. More a short attempt to clear my head of family build-up. Like tartar on teeth. Every now and again you gotta clean that crap off before the whole mouth and gums rot.
An image I’d like to share with you before I exit this post: Me giving myself a whore’s bath with baby wipes. This act was performed in Ocean City, NJ, a few weekends back when I took the girls by myself on my bookclub’s weekend at the beach. BON APPETIT!
Your comparison of family build up to tartar on teeth is pure genius.
I think they have running water in the mid-west. And I bet there will be time for bathing too!!!
May your metaphorical teeth come back polished shiny clean with that slick smooooth feeling!