Tag Archives: sigh

So last week I turned 35…

Damn you Weather Gods!

I can no longer say I’m in my early thirties. I now have to use a term that I admit I am not too enamored with.

‘mid’

‘mid-thirties’

So there I was, mid-thirties and all, having a birthday. Helping to make it better, Vince proclaimed it was also his birthday. Repeatedly. Like this.

V: “Mummy? It’s your birthday! Happy Birthday. And it’s my birthday too! I made you a cake (he didn’t). I’m gonna eat it, in my tummy!”

That certainly took the sting out of the big 35.

Last year we hit up Disney World and stayed at one of the resorts for a few nights, having a sort of mini-holiday for my birthday. It was so amazing that we did it again this year. We checked in to the Caribbean Beach resort Friday afternoon, hitting up Epcot as soon as we were unpacked. It poured.

And by ‘pour’, I mean dumped. Yup. The weather gods took a huge poop on my Friday night. So big, we had to get ponchos. We looked properly idiotic and therefore blended in with all the other rejects we appeared to be surrounded by. It was a glorious parade of food-babies in wet white tee-shirts.

But I digress… We had a perfectly pleasant evening. Well, I did independently of my son while I was watching CAPTAIN EO!!!!!!!!

Yes, that’s right. I took a solo-trip back to 1991 and watched Michael Jackson crotch-whip an alien plant back  to life (or the 80’s, however you want to look at it).

And then I went and met up with E and V. And let me tell you, not only am I officially 35, but Vince is officially 3. And firmly in the middle of what is clearly ‘The Year of the Whine’. This holiday summed it up for me, if I was having any previous doubts of it.

Oh my lord. Last year, Vince was SO good during our mini-vacay. And this year, well… He was ‘good’ and holy mother was he ever whiny. I mean, I had heard this about that wonderful age of three, but this was my first full 3 day experience with it. And wow. WOW. We just constantly fought. About everything. Everything we said, he wanted to do the opposite of. And if we wanted to do what he wanted? He then wanted to do whatever was the opposite of that. But what was the most frustrating was how much he wanted to push his stroller around the parks.

Usually, not an issue. At Disney? Huge issue. He can’t see over the handles. He doesn’t care where he’s pushing it. And if you help him steer, he throws an enormous fit.

So please, picture us trying to cruise Epcot. Vince, pushing the stroller through the bag check, ramming it into posts. The girls at the gate, declaring him adorable because he told them “I’m just pushing dis ober there”. And then, every three steps, the stroller being rammed into something, occasionally people among other things. We ditched it in France and Vince cried for 10 minutes. And then was so poorly behaved I was just appalled.

He finally passed out hard. Apparently, bad behavior was a combo of exhaustion and being three. And post-nap he was angelic, proclaimed repeatedly “Mummy!!! I give you a kiss and hug!!!!

I can’t decide if it’s The Year of the Whine or The Year of the Bipolar Three Year Old.

Hopefully, its also The Year of the Extra-Patient Mummy. But, I think, isn’t it always that year?

xoxo a.m.

 

 

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Pause

So my parents are arriving in T-minus 28 days or so. And so I have 4 weeks to turn our office into a cosy room . I have been up on a ladder drinking wine like a mother f’er for a week, while I paint that damn room and its damn closet.

Since last Tuesday that has been my evenings plan. And M was working all of those nights, so I embraced it as busy time for Mummy.

Ladders and wine every evening ended up with late nights, every night this past week.

And Thursday and Friday as well.

M, working at that Disney restaurant he moonlights at, and after coming home at 3 am 3 nights in a row, finally got a break Friday night and called me around 11 pm. He was on his way home. Holy crap!

Filet mignon with pepper crust and gorgonzola dressing is what awaited him. As well as me, up a ladder in the closet. With a glass of wine.

Shortly after he arrived and got settled with dinner and a well deserved beer, V woke.

And it was a scary awakening. Screaming and thumping rained down on our living room ceiling. So much so that I actually went up and cuddled  that little man. And then brought him downstairs. And then regretted it when he perked up as soon as my foot him that last step on the stairs.

Big smile for Daddy and an immediate “Issat!” with a big pointy finger at the TV where Top Chef Season 5 was playing.

That  Little Man was a midnight blur of activity. He ran around the living room, dragging his little chair up to the coffee table and plunking his tush down.

“Mumma! Baba!!”, he demanded.

Yes sir. Into the kitchen I went to get him a bottle of milk and a little midnight snack of Cheerios.

He sat so nicely in his chair when he snacked down. About 2 minutes into midnight snack, he picked up his bottle and snack dish and walked over to Daddy.

“Dadda!’, he shouted imperiously.

M obligingly lifted him up onto his lap where he sat for about 20 minutes, snacking and watching Top Chef.

Mama! Da!”, he shouted again, pointing at his book with the duck on the front cover. M transferred him over to me, and we read about the duck and how it was looking for its mother.

It was such a random late night. We were so amused by the Little Man. And then after his story, I carried him up to bed and he went right to sleep.

While this may (mostly may not) be exciting to you… and by ‘you’ I mean my Mum. Thank you Mum for reading this regularly… for us, it was just the sweetest late night treat.

For M and his week of really late nights, it was a lovely V-treat.

For me, it was a deep sigh of contentment. I watched the two of them together and felt my heart just melt with love.  It feels like these days are moving so quickly that any little moment like this is a little pause and sigh.

So my friends…. pause and sigh at those sweet moments.

And speaking of sweet moments, I must admit that I am fascinated by the fact that the White House has a beekeeper. And beehives. And harvests its own honey, which they use in the White House kitchen.

Totally so admirable and so wish I could have one too. But I have this feeling that my neighbours (in their much smaller townhouse) would totally be pissed at the constant buzzing noises and non-stop dog-barking that would result from the constant buzzing.

So for now, I’ll just admire those WH clever-clogs. And check out this link to check out those sweet honey makers…

xoxo a.m.

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Filed under awesomeness, Daddy, dream, family, ladder, late night, Love, Mummy, parenting, pause, Uncategorized, White House Beekeepers, wine