Worry of the Day: Sometime in the murky future, this sweet little tater tot kidlet will discover that the only reason I hang out and party with her is because I’m getting PAID to do it.
And then she will hate me for the rest of my life.
Nobody warned me about this. Now I’m nervous. Now it’s….personal.
Perk of the Day: Kidlet thinks I’m an amazing cook. It doesn’t matter what gourmet lunch mom has prepared for her, the kid wants what I’ve packed in my own bag.
Today we had day-old cornbread muffins and made a delicious glorious mess of them.
Rant of the Day: Comatose parents!
I took the kiddo on a field trip today to a place that is designed specifically for toddlers through maybe six year olds.
It’s a “discovery” play place with both indoor and outdoor stations meant to encourage theatrics, scientific dialogue, gardening, and waterworks engineering. There were bubbles, legos, musical instruments, a climbing structure, book nooks, and a playhouse and play market, complete with little grocery carts and plastic produce.
I stood there digesting this for a minute before I said, “So, it’s basically just like home…but it comes with built-in siblings and I don’t have to clean it. Cool.”
Unlike home, my kidlet had to share this free-for-all with two busloads of kindergartners, one birthday party, and several exhausted new mothers who huddled in the picnic area, breastfeeding with one arm and slicing bananas into non-choking bits with the other.
There were only two supervisory eyes on the kid tornado that was blowing through the place, and they were both mine.
One eye stayed trained on the actual kid I had brought through the door, and the other eye helped me intercept the objects hurtling through space at her.
Kidlet is two years old now and becoming quite the little butterfly.
She went flitting between stations, considering all of the options, before settling on the slide.
Up the carpeted stairs, across the landing, and down the slide….over and over and over and over for a solid half hour.
If a little one sat on the slide ahead of her, she waited politely until it launched.
The larger ones would come along, pass her by, nudge the little ones out of the way, and help themselves.
She was very confused by it.
Eventually I lured her off and outside with the idea of bubbles.
“Bubble” is one of her first words. It’s what she called her contact lens.
There were five vats of bubble solution outside and multiple long wands for dipping and wafting through the air to create large bubble clusters.
It was fascinating for two dips.
Then another big kid came along, snatched her wand right out of her hand and walked away.
She and I looked at each other for a long minute before her face melted.
When kidlets cry, they begin with the lips, then the eyes follow, then the cheeks give way.
We decided that some kids are crazy like that and found her another bubble wand.
But inside I was steamed.
“Where are your parents?!” I mentally hollered at the kid wandering off.
As I turned back to my kidlet, another excitable kid waved his wand in the air and whacked her right on the head.
She got an instant shampoo and I was ready to wring out a few adults.
I looked around.
The adults were either scrolling through cell phones or talking to each other in corners, baby slings attached.
No one was going to claim the free-range shampooer.
Who does that??
Maybe this is the new parenting norm.
Confusion of the Day: At my house, the kids are either glued to computer screens or sitting in corners talking to each other and completely ignoring us adults who are running around “playing at real life” and occasionally bopping each other on the head.
Today’s Conclusion: If the adults and the teens are happily comatose, then society is currently being managed by bubble-wielding kindergartners. And we should be very afraid.