Posted on | December 27, 2012 | No Comments
The thing about having time off for the holidays is this… eventually it comes to an end.
Eventually, you have to get up and shower and put on clothes other than pajamas that are red and white and say “HO!HO!HO!” Eventually, you have to leave the house while the sun is still stretching from slumber and go back to the place you so happily left not nearly long enough ago.
Eventually came this morning.
Riley, my not-quite-one and oh-so-puppyish dog, started yelping to go outside at ten til six… like she knew it was a work day. I stumbled out of bed and walked her outside, then made my way to the bathroom. I showered and put on make up and was just brushing my teeth when J stormed out of the bedroom and stopped just outside the bathroom door. His hair was still sleep-tousled and his eyes were barely open but he still managed to look accusatorily in my general direction.
“IT’S NOT TIME TO GET UP BECAUSE THE SUN IS STILL NOT UP!” he yelled at me and then marched off to the living room to sit on the sofa. I tried to tell him he could go back to bed but he wasn’t having any of that. When I finally made my way in to join him, he asked me to download yet another game on the iPad and I politely declined, because he has one zillion billion games on the iPad and that’s just crazy. He asked again and I told him if he asked me again I would take the iPad away.
“You WILL get me another game!” the yelling began again. And again. And again. The iPad was placed on top of the fridge. The toddler was picked up, while limp, and difficultly dressed in his school clothes. Shoes were put on reluctant feet and all the while, the tears were streaming down his face and he was screaming at me like I was torturing him.
When he was finally dressed and calmed down, I turned on the television for a brief 20 minute relaxation period before we left for school. He snuggled up next to me, as if he hadn’t just spent an hour making life hell, and laid his head on my shoulder. We sat there for a moment, snuggled up as though we hadn’t just been seconds away from a cage match, and then he looked up at me with his sweet eyes and smiled.
“Best friends forever,” he whispered, wiping his still wet cheek against my sweater. I wanted to look down and shake him and say “YES! This is the boy I want you to be! Not that crazy, screaming banshee of a child who tried to hit me, yelled at me, and forced me to dress him while holding him to keep him from running away!” But all I did was smile and nod and tell him that yes, that sounded good to me.
Because… toddlers. What else can you do?
And thus began my first day back to work post-Christmas vacation.