Tuesday, February 19, 2008

39 and Holding

So it is 9:00 pm on my 39th birthday and I'm about to do some knitting after getting the kid to sleep after reading rassafrassa-sassafrassing "The Little Engine That Could" for the 5th time today. Let's compare that to my 29th birthday. Oh, no comparison, it was barely getting started at 9:00pm.

Today started rough, the kid had a restless night and was hollering from 5:00 am on. Husband got up with him at 6:00, but I couldn't get back to sleep for the noise. Got up after a while and was told "happy birthday. Nice bags under your eyes." Grumpy discussion about logistics due to one vehicle in shop. General grumpiness on my part. One bright spot: got to pay bills in peace, project that had been cut short last night due to kid's mystery ailment. Drove cross town, dropped off husband, picked up my mother, drove back cross town to kid's to swimming lesson, dropped off mother, got home and spent half and hour getting kid to nap.

All the while I was kind of grumpy about my birthday. My husband is a flake, he knows he's a flake, I know he's a flake, everyone knows he's a flake. I reminded him about my birthday several times. I knew he had forgotten when I told him last night that I had been tempted by a German Chocolate cake I saw when I was grocery shopping and had thought about bringing it home for today. He said oops, but don't worry, he would get one today. I reminded him he wouldn't have a vehicle. I actually already got my present, the book from Norway, but some recognition of the day would have been in order. And I got cards and checks, which I really appreciate because they funded they yarn for the Fana sweater. But still, the actual day should be a little special, in my opinion. Mainly I was dead tired, though, and sick and tired of the kid not sleeping well.

I actually napped for a while, but woke up feeling awful after an hour. Then the kid woke up and I had to coax him back to sleep. Thank goodness it didn't involve reading "The Little Engine That Could" again or I may well have started to cry. I got to knit for a while and the nap headache dissipated. 3:00 pm and I stated to feel like a human again. The kid woke up and I had to work him up to the prospect of getting back in the truck to pick up his father. I have probably mentioned the kid is not good in the car. Fortunately he understood the concept of "getting Daddy", and that helped.

(Are you still here? This is my longest post ever!!)

Well, if no one was going to make plans for my birthday, I was going to make my own. "How about Louis' so I can have a birthday chocolate malt?" I suggested. No, I was told cake was covered. Hmm. We decided to go to the mall so I could get a bite to eat and buy a book with a 40% off coupon I got from Borders. We ended up with dinner at Chevy's. At 4:45 pm. Only way to do it with the kid. I had one margarita, woo-hoo. (Let's compare that to my 29th birthday. Again, we can't, because I don't remember what I was drinking. I mean, I know I was a beer drinker back then, but I have vague memories of shot glasses). The kid actually stayed at the table for 20 minutes, a record. After that we took turns showing him the tortilla machine. Then off to Borders where I got Greenlanders on Audioknits' recommendation.

The bookstore was a fun experience. My husband asked if the kid had ever been in a bookstore. Yes, but not let loose, I told him. It was decided that Daddy would take him to the kid section while I browsed. Okay, snigger snigger. I looked up the author's name on the computer, found the book quickly, and went to the kids' section. My kid was pulling books off the shelf. Husband asks if I have seen him like this before, I said "oh yeah, I forgot about the time at the library." It was so gratifying watching him chase the kid around. He asked me to hold him at one point because he had to take his jacket off, he was sweating. Sometimes when I complain about how tough the kid is I'm told that I need to loosen up. I showed the kid the rack of Thomas the Tank Engine books and he darted toward it. I asked him to pick one, and luckily he pointed at several so I was able to pick one with an actual storyline, without guilt.

We got home and I dropped them off because it was raining, and went to park the truck. When I came in the husband was searching through the kitchen drawer and asked where the birthday candles were, I told him, and milled in the entryway. As a birthday bonus I used this opportunity to remove a pile of laundry from the bedroom because it actually smelled bad and put it in the stairwell. The candle was lit and the three of us sang "Happy Birthday". I think our son remembered his first birthday party because he was pretty excited. He did manage to swipe a handful of frosting, thanks to aging parent syndrome. Having a 50-year-old father and a 39-year-old sleep deprived mother has it's advantages.

(Still here?!?)

We had small pieces of the very fancy, very rich cake. I saw the label and noted that it was from a place across town we like. Now some of our worst parenting comes into play. We let the kid eat a piece of chocolate cake an hour before bedtime, albeit a small piece of cake. While we are licking our plates, my husband wonders why I didn't ask how he got the cake. I said I figured some place in the neighborhood he was working in carried them, wasn't that lucky. He said no, he actually walked a far piece, caught the bus and got it at the bakery. Then he handed me two boxes (sealed with masking tape) and said they were bonus presents. He got me a nice pink t-shirt and a pink fleece pullover.

Cut to the kid filling his diaper. This is where Great Moments in Bad Parenting really kicked in. The kid starts running around, I can't get a clean diaper on him. He pulls me into his room, and tries to get me onto his slide, by pushing my face into it. Then he tries to climb in his dresser drawer. I decide I need to get that mystery smell stuff into the machine to soak overnight. I was trying to sort the laundry on the stoop but the kid is shrieking into the stairwell and climbing all over and un-sorting the clothes. Daddy pulls him away several times. We note that this is the wildest he has ever been, and that's saying a lot. Then he starts doing laps around the apartment. Good, I think, he'll wear off the sugar high. I go down stairs and take my time with the laundry. When I come back up the kid is banging on his guitar. Um, it is officially bath time and he is nowhere near calmed down, so we wait a few minutes, and I get his bed stuff ready. He bathes while I try to decompress from the day.

I hear him call "ma ma" from the bath and know the daily ritual of his being carried to me wrapped in a towel and smiling is about to happen. During the hand-off I look at my husband and have one of those moments when you see yourself in your child and your spouse in your child and think what a neat little family you have. The day turned into a pretty nice birthday after all.

My 29th? Well let's just say my kid isn't the only one who likes to run around with no clothes on shrieking. Aren't you glad you read the whole thing?

1 comment:

hello, my name is danny. said...

aww, janice! happy belated birthday!

all i can say is yikes! the shift in priorities from 29 to 39 are staggering. at least you should be able to remember this birthday as the one you got to share with the wonderful creation you and your husband made, um, aside from the running around and shrieking part. LOL

eventually that phase will pass. i only hope it is before the kid actually graduates and goes off to college. *sigh*