Scene: living room, int. super adorable and precocious child, sitting right next to daddy, gets up, walks across the house to where mama is laying down with a headache.
Child: Mama! Want some more water!
Mama: Go ask daddy.
Child: NO! Mama goes to kitchen!
Mama: Child, i am laying down–go ask your father.
Child: No! (bursts into tears) MAMA DO IT!!
Father (from other room): Come here child, i will get you some water!
Child: NO! NO! NO! MAMA TO DO IT!
This has been playing between our four walls now for a week or so. Ah yes, once I have been lulled into complacency, Ben goes through another phase. For now he is attached to me–and only to me, and daddy is persona non grata–just a slave building the pyramids…
Here’s the thing though–while he is attached to me and REFUSES to listen to daddy WHATSOEVER, with subsequent screaming, he is not so attached that he is super affectionate or whatnot. It’s not as if he clings to me, refusing to leave my company. Nope–he simply wants me–and only me–to serve him. Like the pharoah’s personal body slave or some shit.
(sorry–just envisioning the servant from the 10 commandments telling Nefertiri that Moses was “born of Hebrew slaves” with her face all scrunched up. *giggle*–for which there is NO image on the interwebs ANYWHERE. But Hey, Easter’s comin. It’ll be on TV soon.)
And as i ask my friends and family what they would do–they all say the same thing–remove yourself.
Well, if you’d like to pay for my spa day, go right ahead.
As a SAHM, it’s not always easy to remove myself. I’m the one he see’s 90% of the time.
Daddy gets home late, and only gets an hour or so a day during the week. I hand over most of the reins on the weekend, but that’ s only 2 days, and then Ben is back to “so shall it be written, so shall it be done”
[on top of this, he has a cold–which almost ALWAYS means regression in some form. Mostly self-regulation–so the screaming isn’t very…controlled, if you will. He will scream if i wont’ help him, scream if the computer won’t load fast enough, scream if his french fries are luke warm, and scream if gravity refuses to let his hot wheels cars fly far enough. Hell, i think he’d scream because his screaming was too loud. I know i am about to…]
I am trying to keep it together, but you know that last parenting nerve we all talk about–if he plucks that mofo one more time, i might have to hop in my chariot and run over a few folks. wait–wrong Charlton Heston movie. You get the drift, though.
So if you see a wandering Hebrew around, looking for someone to deliver, as frogs are falling from the sky, just point him in this direction, k? A quiet vacation in the desert might be nice for a change…