The Games We (okay, I) Play

Today I was home all day with Mister B. I don’t know if he’s in a phase or if he’s teething or WHAT. But he was a handful today.

Twice I found myself doing things that are NOT normal, and I thought it’d be fun to share.

1. I was eating my breakfast at the breakfast bar, sitting on a stool. He was standing by my feet just wailing, grabbing at whatever part of me he could reach. (Now understand, I had just spent 2 hours meeting everyone else’s needs, working out, fixing lunches, etc. and I just wanted 5 MINUTES to eat my breakfast. I’m not asking for the world here. And I did not forget to feed my child. I just wanted 5 minutes for my egg, toast and coffee. That’s all.)

Sooooo I relocated to the dining room table to try to eat in peace. (Relative term) It’s not far away, but I thought maybe he’d get distracted and leave me alone.

Wrong.

Only now he could reach me better! He was grabbing handfuls of my shirt and pulling. And this tot has  a serious grip. It’s remarkable. He was also grabbing at my arms, getting my elbow and pulling with all his might. This is the arm with the fork. I JUST WANTED TO USE THE FORK TO PUT MY BREAKFAST IN MY MOUTH. He wasn’t having it.

Then I did something I have never done in my parenting history. Without hardly thinking, I climbed up and sat on top of the dining room table to eat my breakfast.

I mean, that’s okay, right?

Oh my.

Poor baby crying. But I just wanted 5 minutes!! But I ate on top of the table? What was I thinking?

Well I think I didn’t even take the whole 5 minutes for myself. I shoveled in the food with my now-free arm and got back down and put him on my lap while I drank my coffee.

Hope everyone is happy now.

2. Later in the day I was doing some of the endless-picking-up that happens here. I was also trying to gather supplies to varnish a stool. That meant I had to go to the back balcony, which is off the master bedroom in the back of the house.

Lil’ guy was clingy and fussy. In a moment when he was distracted, I literally took off running for the back of the house. I thought if I hustled, I could get through my bedroom, open the balcony, dig out the supplies from the storage bin outside, then at least get the balcony door closed again before B caught up with me. Then I could avoid having to drag him off the dusty balcony while he screams in protest because he tasted the glories of the dusty storage balcony and was denied the freedom to wreak havoc in this new place of wonder and excitement.

I was literally running away from my toddler. Sort of, you know… racing him.

I won, in case you wondered. Cause I’m fast. Real fast.

But oh man, it sure does sound ridiculous.

Toddler years. They are SO fun.