I don’t know about the rest of you, but these 14 hour days, 7 days a week are making me nuts. We should unionize or communize or something to ease the pressure. I’d like to think I don’t need another grown-up, a chaperone to be a better parent, but I can laugh when I’m in the company of someone who doesn’t think poop is the best kind of humor and that makes all the difference. When I can joke about Libby’s need to change her clothes a few times a day it makes for a nearly cute story, almost charming, but when I’m home alone with her and she comes trotting downstairs in yet another skirt & t-shirt and I know that the previous skirt & t-shirt are laying on her bedroom floor or worse, in the hallway without any regard for the person who sorted, washed, folded and maybe even put away, I’m just irked. I should rethink the chaperone thing. Maybe then I could appreciate the pure, perfect kidness of her costume changes instead of dwelling on what really amounts to nothing with no ill will intended.
Why is it so much easier to be reasonable and patient when another adult is around? Am I actually more relaxed when I have an ally, a confidante, a person who can appreciate the art of sarcasm? Or is it just social expectations of being in public that dampen my reactions? When it’s the kids and I home on a regular day like today without much contact with the outside world (despite being outside a lot) it’s as if I lose all perspective and apparently my sense of humor. It’s not like I could stand being with anyone else as much as I’m with the kids so maybe we aren’t doing so bad, we just all enjoy someone our own age to share time with!
Like when it’s bath night, we’ve reached the end of the day and the last thing the kids will tolerate is daddy doing any of the things they have deemed my jurisdiction, but all I really need is for Kramer to be in the bathroom, sit on the toilet and keep me company. I can almost tolerate the water splashing out of the tub if I have someone there who simply gets why the water should stay in the tub and why poop isn’t that funny. It’s just good to be with someone who gets it.