I am starting this blog, selfishly, as a creative outlet for myself. Because lord knows I will need a LOT of outlets this Summer while the 4 year old (we'll refer to him as "D") is out of school. My hope is that it will give other parents some satisfaction in knowing that their kids are not the only ones causing them to pull out their hair, and perhaps provide a little comic relief in the form of "ha ha, suckers, so glad we don't have kids" to my friends without little humans. So here goes.
Yesterday, technically one week after the last day of school (which D missed, unfortunately, as the result of a nasty virus), we met our friends J, V and BJ at the library to see a magic show. Now traditionally, magicians kinda creep me out. David Copperfield? David Blaine? Criss Angel?? I'm convinced they're going to come to my house one night while I'm sleeping, magically find their way in and perform the "slice a person in half" trick on me, though they will ACTUALLY slice me in half. Cree-py! Fortunately this magician was completely the opposite. No creep factor whatsoever; he was freakin' hysterical. I laughed out loud through the entire performance, and D even volunteered to participate in helping him with a magic trick. I was quite proud of the boy. Shyness doesn't run in my side of the family, that's for sure!
D was incredibly well behaved and patient during the performance, but afterwards, like mere MINUTES after it was over, he went totally insane. It was as though he'd reverted back to 2 years old. Screaming, crying, arm flailing - IN THE LIBRARY. For no reason. I gave him not one but TWO chances to calm down so we could stay (aren't I generous?!), otherwise I warned him we'd have to leave. No dice. I had to physically pull him out of the library by his arm and wrangle him into the car. Kid weighs like 38lbs now so that's no easy task.
The screaming didn't stop once we got in the car, or on the road, or on the highway. Not to mention we were almost 50 miles from home. Yes, FIFTY MILES! Every now and then the screams would stop for a brief second and when I looked in the rearview mirror, I saw a big yawn. Aha. Kid was worn freakin' out! I tried to coax him to close his eyes and go to sleep, but he wouldn't do it. Finally, and I have NO idea where this came from, I said "Do you want me to sing you a bedtime song?" "Yes!" he said. I hadn't thought this through because I really have no arsenal of bedtime songs. Haven't sung to him since he was an infant. And even then, I sang Pink Floyd and Collective Soul to him. I know, I know...mother of the year.
The only thing I could muster was a silly song that my husband made up for him. I started singing it, and he interrupted me immediately with "No, that's a Daddy song!!!" Fine. Let's try this again. The next thing that came out of my mouth was "Jingle Bells, jingle bells, jingle all the way!" I kid you not. Child once again interrupts me and screams "No no no! That's a Christmas song!" Third time's the charm, right? I opened my mouth and "Ring Around the Rosie" pops out. Crap. "Nooooo! That's a play song! Mama, what we need is the ABC song!" But OF COURSE! How silly of me to forget the quintessential bedtime song that is sure to lull a sleepy baby (or preschooler) into a sweet slumber - the ABC song!!! Can you detect a hint of sarcasm here?
So, now desperate and sweating and trying my best to remember to breathe, I calmly ask him to close his eyes and I bust out into the most quiet, peaceful version of the ABCs that I can muster. Well whaddya know, he was counting sheep before "Next time won't you sing with me." Dang kid.
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