you're just a little snitch
You would not want this entry to include a visual. I spent most of the day cleaning up the basement with the Boy, and I am sweaty, dishevelled and still grimy despite numerous handwashings. I look like a mom, which I always sort of do anyway, except today I look like the version of mom who has been putting off both the shower and the trip to the mall to buy clothes, although not for the same length of time.
I accept this as my due, however, as my sweat purchased a much cleaner basement. Many baby items were moved into our creepy crawlspace, and other pieces of disassembled furniture were assembled. Instead of a t.v. area with a mattress crowding out the coffee table, I have a t.v. area. On the other end of the room where there used to stand ranks of totes, boxes and furniture pieces, I have a guest bed, a crib full of toys and a rocking chair. I still need to assemble the futon, sort the crib toys & finish the curtains I started last week, but the room is more liveable than it's been since we arrived. As a person who takes her basements very seriously, this is a blessing.
Blake is on day 4 of swim lessons, and week 3 of Jumping Jack Splash (the toddler activity program). On Wednesday when those two activities converged, he was too excited to understand much of what was about to happen. My favourite part was in the morning, when he narced on me.
We were lounging in the theraputic pool with the other toddlers. Blake, for no reason I could determine, gave me a healthy kick. I pushed him away, which may have been a bit rough, but I figured that it's all in the spirit of Animal Mother. Except that he lost his footing and slipped back into the water.
"You pushed me down into the water!" he yelled when he emerged.
"No, you kicked me, I pushed you and you fell in the water." He immediately marched over to the instructor, pointed back at me and exclaimed, "I kicked her and she pushed me into the water!"
My own son tattled to the teacher on me. I don't know whether to be proud, amused or horrified. I think amused, as he also managed to snitch on me in my absence. My mom brought him home today with story of his interaction with my grandmother, telling her that I wouldn't buy Buzz Lightyear chicken nuggets for him because I only had $5. She immediately upgraded her gift to him from 5 to 8 dollars. Tomorrow I'm going to buy him the "nuggins" and take a picture of him holding the box next to a recent copy of the Toronto Star.
My own kid is shaming me into buying cartoon-related boxed meat. Charming.
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Don't make me send out the Blake. He doesn't listen to *anyone.*