September 12th, 2010 by Busy Mommy

Oh how life changes and what fills your time on a Saturday night.

Flash back to when I was 16.  It was a weekend night, and I went to the skating rink, a common occurrence, with my friends and a mix of cute guys I kind of knew from surrounding congregations.  On the way home at a stoplight just a little ways before the drive through a canyon, one guy in his huge monster truck with his 2 or 3 friends dared me to drag race him.  Um…..yeah because you’re totally going to lose!  After all I was in a six cylinder burgundy-red Acura Legend with only one passenger, and being known to have lead foot like my own father as teenager I had no problem flooring it.  It was probably at least 10:30 at night, pitch black, and no other cars were around at all so I didn’t see any danger in it.  I gunned it at the light and had fun as I at some point got ahead of him and headed down the now one lane through the canyon.  Well that was exhilarating!  The next day sometime my dad came up to me and said rather sternly, “so-and-so is bragging to everyone how he drag raced you last night.  Were you drag racing him last night?”  Uh-oh.  My jaw felt agape even if my mouth was closed.  Why in the world would he brag about the drag race incident when I beat him?  Wasn’t he embarrassed to get outdone by a girl in a non-hot-rod, non-monster-truck?  Wow, I had no idea he would be passing that around….looking back now of course I realize he was probably bragging because I was pretty cute and tiny in my day (long hair, size 2- man why didn’t I appreciate it then?), so of course having anything to do with me was something to brag about.  Lol.  Believe me- I can say that now without fear of being condemned as hothead or braggart because I’m not the hot little chick I once was.  You remember this story right dad?  Who told you anyway?  I guess there must have been not a neighborhood watch program but a parenthood watch program back then.  Amendment: My husband just told me this guy always talked about his drag-racing exploits….sigh, I guess maybe it wasn’t my cuteness afterall….

Flash forward, oh about 13 years.  I am x pounds heavier these days, which I will flatter myself by saying “full-figured”, and driving a four cylinder Mazda mini-suv with a plastic bumper dented on both sides and a carseat, broken pretzels, possibly a rolled up dirty diaper or two, and inumerable distractive toys inside.  Oh yes, and a quilt magazine.  Yes, I quilt now.  Now, I’m not 70 yet, but I quilt.

It’s Saturday night at 9pm. I am in my almost 11-month old son’s room with all the lights off, sitting on a little stool by his crib, waiting patiently for him to fall asleep.  Usually he nurses to sleep, but the last three nights he has been wide awake and wanting to crawl and play until 10:30 at night.  Enough is enough- this is bad habit we’re getting into.  So I went in with him to his room at 8:15.  It’s been about 45 minutes now.  I keep the crib side down while I’m there next to him because he doesn’t feel “trapped” that way and is pretty content- except that he’s still awake!!  At first I try reading to him with a flashlight while he moves around in his crib, saying “tha” and pointing, which sounds a lot like he’s saying “that.”  I think he is.  All I’m waiting for now is the “what’s” that comes before it, then I’ll be naming every pot, pan, and toilet seat in creation for him.  Then he’ll lay down for, oh, 30 seconds, then pop back up and butt his head into the crib railing like he’s some kind of tiny ram.  Lay back down for 30 more seconds, pop back and start clapping.  Lay down and shift around, lay on tummy, lay on side, lay on back.  Get up, “tha! tha!” pointing to the blinds.  Lay down.  I can’t help smiling to myself when I see him clapping.  He’s obviously practicing all the different things he knows how to do now, and I start wondering to myself if this is what he does when he wakes up in the middle of the night before he starts crying and I come to get him settled back under his blankets.  Finally I just don’t know what to do- after 45 minutes I just decide to leave him in there alone and hope he just falls asleep.  Thankfully, there’s only a few minor complaints from his room before there’s silence.  I go back in to check on him, and he’s asleep on his back with one hand near his head, a sleeping posture I myself often assume because it’s comfortable to me.  I fix the blankets on him and that is that.  The I finish my evening by capturing the special moment on this blog.  And that’s about it on this Saturday night (oh yeah, and a little dish-washing and meat-marinating-for-tomorrow too).  But honestly- it was pretty peaceful and satisfying.

September 8th, 2010 by Busy Mommy

September 8th, 2010 by Busy Mommy