I’m pretty grumpy.
A) I’ve just spent the last hour-and-a-half trying everything I can think of to get my toddler to sleep (I guess I should be glad he usually goes to bed without incident, but we didn’t get to that stage without a fair bit of work);
B) I was trying to write a post about the two national holidays we’ve just celebrated and realized that I’m not having a good writing day (or week for that matter) – nothing I write sounds original or witty, it sounds like a Grade 9 paragraph or something even cheesier;
C) my beloved MacBook Pro had an incident since my last post, resulting in the logic board leaking gray-green gook on itself… which was UPSETTING and is part of the reason I haven’t posted for so long;
D) I’ve been (typically) tired and strangely short of breath with iffy circulation all day (my limbs keep feeling like they’re about to fall asleep), which is unnerving;
E) maybe it’s because that silly Baby #2 is still transverse despite the fact that we’d both be more comfortable with his head where it’s supposed to be; and
F) is for the effing car alarm that’s been going on and off every few minutes for the last hour. Seriously?? Haven’t we solved this yet???
So anyway, I know full well I have little to complain about in life (but HA, I did it all the same). I acknowledge that I could easily come up with a list of things that are GREAT that would take up all the letters of the alphabet including the most expensive ones (Q and Z). Here is the thing that would currently top the list:
Two-year-old E is rolling around in his bed, good-naturedly refusing to sleep. Mommy is attempting the technique of lying on the big bed beside him, reminding him to lie down every time he starts to get up. It is not working. E is babbling about trucks and car alarms and slides at the park.
E (suddenly, in a sing-song voice): Once upon a time! A girl named Everett. Sleeping in the bed. Head down.
Mommy: Semi-hysterical giggling, muffled in the pillows.
E (in the same storyteller voice): Sometimes… there’s a [long unintelligible word] named Everett. Playing in the sand. With a digger.
Mommy (unable to suppress her curiosity): A what named Everett?
E: A front-end-loader.
It must be noted that Auntie Em started the tradition (which I’ve continued whenever we need a distraction) of telling short impromptu stories about a little boy named Everett, whose life resembles my son’s to a remarkable degree. He loves them. They also work with the power of suggestion – yesterday when he was unreasonably grumpy after his nap, I told him a story of a little boy who got up from a nap and his mom asked him if he would like a snack and he said, “Yes, please, I would like some raisins with a drink of water,” and right then, the story came true!
So yeah… my grumpiness is silly. I still have the coolest kid ever.