Its’ Funny When It Happens To Daddy

So it’s been one helluva weekend here. It started Friday night at work around 11:00 p.m. with the derecho storm that ripped its way through the Ohio area before heading east and causing more turmoil in the D.C. area than the debate over “Obamacare”. I wasn’t the only one taken by surprise; the restaurant was filled with patrons and staff who had no idea a storm was in the process of tearing Northern Virgina to shreds.

I left about an hour after the power went out and the worst of the wind and rain had passed us by. Drove by the shopping carts thrown around the parking lot, past the downed trees and through the leaf and branch rubbage littering the dark, unlit road, hoping I didn’t run into any issues because I had just enough gas to get home. The unlit, darkened interstate just made the lightening show even more brilliant on my way home. I am grateful to report that my neighborhood faired better than my work neighborhood a mere 20 miles north, we all still had power. . . and air conditioning!

I still had to head into work Saturday afternoon even though I had no idea about the power status. Once I get off of the interstate, it usually takes me about 15 minutes to drive the road to my work, depending on the traffic of this highly travelled road filled with intersection after intersection after intersection. It took me closer to 45 minutes on Saturday because all of the lights were out at the intersections and nobody seems to remember that we are supposed to treat unlit traffic lights like 4-way stops!!! All of my anger management skills that I have been working on were obliterated on Saturday’s drive to work.

So the storm, the idiot drivers, and the fact that as of 3:oo this afternoon my restaurant still had no power, which means empty pockets for all of us Dogfishers, that was all really the easiest part of my weekend. In addition to the record temperatures and oppressive heat, my little 3 year old Buzzsaw has been battling a headcold and nasty cough since Thursday. Playing in the sprinkler was out and even if he wasn’t sick, the community pool was closed and the inflatable one I had for the house already has a hole in it! He was bouncing off the walls, the bed, down the stairs, and all over mommy and daddy all weekend.

One I got home on Saturday afternoon, Bdawg and I did sort of a tagteam with Buzzsaw. It definitely takes two! Video games, cars, and tickle sessions got us through the day. Today, Sunday, I was pretty much on my own. Bdawg had a Craigs list lead on a “joiner” for his woodshop must haves and set out around 11:00 a.m. to purchase it. Since it was in the same area as his BFF, he of course stopped by and ended up helping him chop up the tree that fell in said BFF’s front yard during the storm. So I had the never ending task of keeping the Buzzsaw entertained and contained. I barely met the minimal requirments on both fronts.

We started out with Super Mario Galaxy, but that ended when Buzzsaw jammed two game discs in the Wii and caused an error in the game system. We tried Lego’s Star Wars off and on for awhile, but the Buzzsaw hasn’t figured out the concept of teamwork just yet. Which makes it difficult to play a game that requires actual teamwork. “Painting”. which he begged to do for over an hour, lasted for a total of 5 minutes after I got all of the paints out, taped up the paper on the easel, and put his smock on. And then he was done.

Nap time ended up being him hanging out in his bed with his Leapster game system and a Chipmunks video, surrounded by his stuffed “friends”, while mommy got some well-deserved down time. Still didn’t get to work on my new hobby of making earrings like I wanted to, hopefully I can do that tomorrow. After I get the laundry folded and the bed remade after the red Gatoraid incident.

Bdawg finally got home around 4:30 with his new tool, and Buzzsaw spent the next hour going back and forth between the garage with daddy and the kitchen with mommy. My plan on Friday night was to get some of our Thai wings at work and a glass of 120 min IPA at the end of my shift; the derecho messed up those plans and left me with a 3 day craving for wings. When he wasn’t driving daddy nuts in the garage and interrupting his setting up of his new tool, Buzzsaw was with me in the kitchen, pulling out spices to put them in a pan on the stove so he could “cook”. That continued until Bdawg caused a temper flair-up in his wife by not answering the simple question of did he want the wings tossed in both of the sauces he bought, or did he just want one sauce for tossing and the other for dipping.

After I completed by scissor butchering of the chicken wings, I headed to the laundry room to pull sheets out of the dryer and put the now clean mattress padding in the dryer. All the while, working through my “frustration” with the Bdawg and our kitchen issues. He normally has no problem giving me unsolicited advice with cooking, but when I actually ask for help because I’ve never done buffalo wings before and wanted to make sure I got our fryer set up correctly, all of a sudden it’s “just follow the recipe”; this is in addition to the whole sauce question. My normally short fuse was non- existent as I carried the pile of laundry up the stairs.

I don’t remember what Buzzsaw was babbling at me as he sat at the top of the stairs, because I was too busy trying to avoid stepping on him as I was simultaneously trying not to fall down the stairs. All I know is that I felt soft Buzzsaw flesh no matter where I put my legs and nasty cuss words came out of my mouth as I went down on my left knee and right wrist, all the while aware that I wasn’t landing on soft Buzzsaw flesh! It is fricking difficult to be seriously pissed off at your kid and at the same time terrified you are about to head to the ER. Bdawg was up the stairs while I was trying to determine if my child is hurt or just scared, holding him and silently crying out of fear and anger. Part of my brain was blaming the husband for just not saying, “yes, I wanted you to toss the wings in two different sauces.”. Seriously, if he could have just said that, I would have never felt the need to go down and get the laundry out of the dryer. ( The Buzzsaw was okay, although we did notice later that his nose had a red mark and possible bruising, but he told us it didn’t hurt. Still feel awful though.)

The wings came out pretty good in spite of my butchering. But dinner with a 3 year old, at least with my 3 year old, is never easy. He didn’t to want eat. He didn’t want a drink. But then he did. He wanted my water bottle that I had filled for him, but it was upstairs. After a 5 minute trip up 6 stairs, he had the water bottle. This was followed by an elaborate Cirque Du Soleil act to get back into his chair at the table. Status quo for the Buzzsaw. Then he didn’t want any carrot sticks, this was uttered as he was chomping down on carrot sticks. Again, status quo. A plate with ketchup was requested, followed by multiple pickings up of buffalo wings and putting them back. Once he actually tasted the wings he finally stated he wanted the ever present microwave chicken tenders mommy had suggested 10 minutes ago! Finally dinner was over and it was bath time. Daddy got this duty, since he was gone all day, and I headed to the porch for some mommy time before I headed up for the ever needed bath time assist.

I walked into the house hearing a level 8 crying fit going on upstairs. WTF??? Daddy had turned on the PS3 and was playing a game which meant bath time was now a no-go. I came up the stairs and began the “mommy manipulation”.” I could have done the hardcore bitch mode, but I had done that a few times already; besides, he had no nap and coddling and manipulating was not only easier on all involved, I was tired of being a bitch. I think it took about 15 minutes to get him in the bath. Part of which involved a lot of back and forth about the band aid on his knee for the microscopic “scrape” from the earlier stair incident. I kept threatening to take it off if he didn’t, which resulted in a pseudo-panic episode, which finally resulted in Buzzsaw telling me he wanted to leave the band aid on “until it fell off.” (I made the mistake of explaining that the band aid would fall off in the water.). Bdawg was left to deal with the washing of the hair and drying off. At this point I was sprawled across the bed listening to the shannigins going on in the bathroom. I couldn’t help myself, or the tears of laughter. And I couldn’t stop myself from calling out, “it’s funny when it happens to daddy.” Bdawg’s dealings with Buzzsaw to get his hair washed, get him out of the tub and dried off, encompassed my entire day! I just couldn’t. Help. Myself.

After the bath time drama, it was time for teethbrushing. For the non-parents out there, everything done with a toddler is filled with unnecessary drama. A point of explanation: we have a monitor plugged into the bathroom outlet and run into Buzzsaw’s bedroom. Teethbrushing started with me uttering the words, ” let go of the cord and stop playing with yourself!” Never pictured myself saying anything close to that. For the mothers of infant boys, the penis facinaction starts around the time you switch from diapers/pull ups to underwear, and never stops!
I kept trying to hide my need to laugh, but he is already too smart for me. My Buzzsaw has a natural instinct for some wicked humor, and I am well aware that I am royally screwed. He just mirrors my smirks.

The nighttime routine ended with me sitting in the hallway, holding Buzzsaw in my lap and hugging him. I looked at him and said, ” be glad you are q child, because when a grown up acts like this, they lock them in a padded room and shove pills down their throat.”. He turned his head, looked up at me and said, ” why are you talking to me that way?”. . . I told him he mushed up mommy’s head.

We eventually got him to bed, and he was out in less than 10 minutes. A blessing, because he usually takes awhile to fall out.

And that was my crazy weekend, how was yours?

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About goddessofglitter

I like to laugh
This entry was posted in adventures in parenting, humor, marriage, sprinkles of glitter, suburban houselife, Uncategorized and tagged , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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