.
I heard muffled thumps and bumps but as they were unaccompanied by screams or squeals of indignation I pretended all was quiet. My intentional deafness rewarded me with alone time in which I was able to return several phone calls and pay bills and have a few coherent thoughts in my head for longer than 5 seconds. Quite a mommy feat on day number four of freezy, rainy, muddy, miserable weather.
A door opened and footsteps signaled the approach of a noisy, happy 6 year old. "We're hungry. Can we have a snack?" I looked up. My beaming happy 6 year old is standing there with carpet burn on his chin and left check, his face is bright read with heat and his left temple has a brand new bumpy lump and abrasion.
"What happened to you!"
"Nothing. But we made up a great new game. We [we being he and his 5 year old brother] had to keep our big brother from getting on the top of my bunk bed. It was great, we kept throwing him off the bunk bed."
Suddenly I realize I am a terrible mother. Imagine my voice rising to a squeak at the end of this sentence: "You played King of the Mountain on the bunk beds?"
"No, we just threw Ben off every time he tried to get on."
Oh, that wouldn't be anything like King of the Mountain.
"Did Ben throw you off too and that's how you got hurt? " I asked, trying to figure out how the thrower can look so damaged and readying a mental lecture for the 11 year old for tossing his brothers off a bunk bed.
He looked at me with total bewilderment, "No and I'm not hurt."
O.K. then. Pain is obviously mitigated by the amount of fun one is having.
Mothering Quandary #473 lecture time or snack time first, and should the answer really just depend on the extended weather forecast?
.
Rainy Days
I heard muffled thumps and bumps but as they were unaccompanied by screams or squeals of indignation I pretended all was quiet. My intentional deafness rewarded me with alone time in which I was able to return several phone calls and pay bills and have a few coherent thoughts in my head for longer than 5 seconds. Quite a mommy feat on day number four of freezy, rainy, muddy, miserable weather.
A door opened and footsteps signaled the approach of a noisy, happy 6 year old. "We're hungry. Can we have a snack?" I looked up. My beaming happy 6 year old is standing there with carpet burn on his chin and left check, his face is bright read with heat and his left temple has a brand new bumpy lump and abrasion.
"What happened to you!"
"Nothing. But we made up a great new game. We [we being he and his 5 year old brother] had to keep our big brother from getting on the top of my bunk bed. It was great, we kept throwing him off the bunk bed."
Suddenly I realize I am a terrible mother. Imagine my voice rising to a squeak at the end of this sentence: "You played King of the Mountain on the bunk beds?"
"No, we just threw Ben off every time he tried to get on."
Oh, that wouldn't be anything like King of the Mountain.
"Did Ben throw you off too and that's how you got hurt? " I asked, trying to figure out how the thrower can look so damaged and readying a mental lecture for the 11 year old for tossing his brothers off a bunk bed.
He looked at me with total bewilderment, "No and I'm not hurt."
O.K. then. Pain is obviously mitigated by the amount of fun one is having.
Mothering Quandary #473 lecture time or snack time first, and should the answer really just depend on the extended weather forecast?
.
2 comments:
Oh, man, can we come play? I think you're a great mom!
Moira Rose would love to come play. Broken noses do not bother her. She's broken hers nine times and man she is strong. I love your posts.
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