Before I get into this post, I want to mention that my new goal (because blogging daily just wasn’t enough, apparently) is to actually write my blog posts before midnight. This is based, in large part, on my posts about Robin Thicke and nude gardening which, upon second reading, frighten me terribly.
It’s currently 11:30, but I feel vaguely coherent, what with today’s nap and the fact that I fell asleep for about an hour next to Big G when I put him to bed tonight. This doesn’t mean I’ll write a good post, but hopefully it’ll at least make sense.
I’ve started a blogging notebook, to keep track of my thoughts and possible topics. As I sit down to read what I wrote today, I’m overcome with giggles. In fact, I’m so amused by myself that I have to share a couple of them (keep in mind that at church today we were discussing the story of Joseph in the Old Testament).
Joseph in a pit – stop for a snack
Joseph – resilience – Chumbawamba
Old lady stole my hymnbook!
Husband creeped out by Big G’s erection
Obviously that last one isn’t from church, because that would be a really odd conversation to have in the foyer. Although it does stem from a conversation we had while getting ready: “He keeps sticking his hand down his pants and scratching, and then he ends up with…you know…and it’s just creepy.” I found myself explaining the mechanics of male anatomy to my husband (hey, he might have forgotten), at the end of which, he said, “Yeah, I really know all of that. It’s still creepy.”
Big G had a difficult day today. I’m not sure what’s going on with him lately–he’s been having a lot of outbursts and tantrums. I’ve been worried part of it is due to potty-training pressure, so we’ve backed off considerable…but he’s still being a pill. (Which reminds me–the other day I referred to Little G as a pill, and Big G said, “He’s a pill because he rolls around a lot. Ha!)
So there’s been a lot of whining, screaming and sobbing in my house today, and then at the end of the day, I’m hit with, “Mom, I’m sad. Can you find something to cheer me up? I’m having a really hard night.” So I find myself, 30 minutes past his bedtime, popping in an episode of Powerpuff Girls and then staying next to him while he falls asleep (which is why I had a lovely 9:00 nap). Does this mean I’m a pushover? Maybe. But when everything is said and done, I’m pretty sure Big G knows he’s loved, and most days, that’s good enough for me.
*Bonus points (and possibly a few therapy sessions) to anyone who can track my thought process for the second item on my blogging list!