Thursday, May 17, 2007
When Mommy’s Gone, It’s Gummy Bears and Ice Cream for Breakfast (Hooray!)
Single parents, I empathize with you. I just don’t understand how in the world do you do it. And especially those with small kids --- you people are either crazy or deserve a medal (and a cookie -- a good one too...like from Nordstrom's, or J.C. Penny's)
The wife’s job sent her to Canada early Sunday morning and pretty much left me to play the role of single parent for a few days. Which meant more 'daddy and daughter time' other than my normal one day a week when the wife is studying for her GMAT. I do pretty well on those days. In fact, some might say almost at a 'professional' level.
I didn’t do too bad on the first solo day (piece of cake!), did alright on the second (how in the world am I going to get these tangles out of her hair!), and today, well now I’m counting the hours until the wife gets back. This morning I forgot “the stinky blanket” (the whole world stops if “the stinky blanket” isn’t around) and gave in to her breakfast demands of popcorn ("crackcorn" as she calls it.)
Today when our sitter saw my daughter she told me that she could tell mommy wasn’t around (How? Can she smell the Chicken McNuggets odor?)
It’s tough doing simple things that I once took for granted, like going to the bathroom in peace. Unless, of course, I want to hear screams (DAD-DEEEEE!!!) accompanied by pounding and little fingers and toes sliding under the closed door like an alien trying to attack and then eat me.
No sir-ee, it just ain’t right.
Yesterday while my daughter was playing in her toy kitchen I made a run for the “Loo”, the screaming followed me (HA! - I can still run faster!) When I closed and locked the door behind me the yelling stopped followed by a mysterious silence (is she alright? Maybe I should check on her…? But I really, really have to go...it's been , like 2 days and I ate Chili Beans for breakfast---why!?) Then she slid her poopie book (the potty training one we use when we put her on the toilet) under the door and said “Daddeee here, poo-peeee!” and then I heard feet running back to her room while singing her poopie song.
That was weird...
I still haven’t been able to take away “the stinky blanker” to throw it in the washer machine (she sleeps with it in a tight kung-foo grip.) I still can’t fix her hair -- It’s just not humanly possible! She's looking like a mini version of Phil Spector. And her diet consist of popcorn, goldfish, tortilla chips, and freezed-dried peas (Yes! veggies...success!!)
The wife is sure going to love me when she gets back.