Wednesday, February 1, 2012

You Just Wait 'Til Your Mama Comes Home!

I would like to say that I new from the instant I first saw him that Pizzly was going to be trouble, but that would be a lie.

I was just too smitten with the little man to think like that, and, in a way, I still am.  And, to my defense he is my first kid.  Am I really supposed to know any better?

For real, how was I supposed to know that newborns who can hold there heads up the first day and raise their little upper bodies up off the ground within the first couple of days was a bad omen?

A really bad omen!

Well, not that bad really.  It just means that it takes some doing to keep up with the little pisser, and, yes, it really does take some doing.  

It's like it is a constant contest for him to find ways to scare the crap out of me, exasperate me, or try to maim me in some unforeseeable way.

He never fails to surprise me!

And, just when I am about to flip my shoot, Pizzly does something that instantly brings me back to being nothing but smitten with him.  Like yesterday for instance.

Yesterday, all morning the Pizzmeister had been a little brat.  Not the screaming tantrum throwing kind, but the cheeky fun kind, or at least he thought he was being cheeky and fun.  

Anyway, my main goal was to pick up all the toys, vacuum the rug, put away the clothes that have been folded and waiting to be put away for two weeks now, and then get a head start on dinner.

No.

None of this happened!

Every time I started picking up any of the toys and blocks that were laying around Pizzly would streak over and upturn all of his toy buckets, and I would have to start all over again while he shrieked with delight.

He takes after his mama! 

Anyway, after about 2-3 hours of this kind of shenanigans I noticed that somehow he had grabbed all of the markers and crayons and decided the couch needed some glitz and glam.

That was it!  

I had had it!  

I wanted to scream and shout and I ended up saying something I thought I would never say in a million years.

"Look here bro!  You just wait 'til your MAMA comes home!"  (This is when I finally fully realized that I would never make it as the disciplinarian of the house.  I've thought about it and I am alright with that.)

Well, after I said that.  Pizzly looked me straight in the eye and said, "Ok!" and then he went and sat down in his chair waiting for her to come home.  

It was too cute.  I wasn't mad any longer, but elated and wicked surprised.

"Coly How! He's actually sitting quietly!"  I thought.  Then I noticed something dreadful. 

"Oh SNARP!  He's falling asleep!  No Don't fall asleep because I'll just have to wake you up to put a sleepy time diaper on you!"

Game over!  

I had to pick the boy up, strip off his big boy pants, and strap a diaper on him.  Of course he woke up, but it wasn't as terrible as I feared.

He just groggily looked at me and said "Go night night and book?"

"Yes." I said.  "We'll go up to bed and read some books."  And, the next three to fours were spent snuggling in bed reading or napping.

Then when he woke up we repeated everything that happened in the morning.  

Needless to say, nothing got done, and we ended up with Chinese take out for dinner.  

Today isn't looking much better because the poor little tyke is acting sick and won't let me leave him alone for more than a second or two before he starts crying and clings to me.  Even now he is passed out on top of me while I am typing.  I am afraid to put him down because that might start toddlergeddon.  

And, trust me.  No one wants that!

3 comments:

  1. These kids always trick us into thinking they are nothing more than cute babies... Then they get bigger and they turn into little terror monsters. My youngest was the cutest little thing until he figured out he could throw and break anything he wanted. It's the same in my house Mama is the disciplinarian.

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  2. I feel like an awful dad sometimes because there are days where I am just waiting for him to fall asleep because I need a break from his awful shenanigans for five minutes! And, then, Mama will come home and he will be a perfect little angel. It's just not right I tell you. One moment he'll be throwing his toys at me trying to maim me more than I already am, and the next he's sitting quitely on the couch because Mama walked through the door. And everybody knows not to cross mama!

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