This Job Sure Ain't Glamorous

I used to think that motherhood would be the ultimate in fairy tale endings. I certainly NEVER thought I would sweat this much. I thought I'd have a baby, quit my job and spend my days wearing long patterned skirts, knit tops that never shrunk or faded, a jean jacket and frizz free hair sitting on a quilt in my manicured lawn that led up to my Pottery Barn decorated home sipping iced tea and looking for pictures in the clouds with my son. Or maybe I would be laying by the neighborhood pool in a two piece (which would mark the only time I owned a two piece) reading Danielle Steele and listening to my son splash in the water while my pot roast got perfectly succulent at home in the crock pot. Basically, I thought motherhood was a juice commercial. Oh and I pictured it as perpetually Autumn. Just thought I'd mention that.

I certainly never envisioned it as trying to take a shower at 1AM when Sam wakes up, comes into the bathroom and stands staring into the back of the shower screaming "get out" and trying to hand me my shirt, crying and shaking like he was just pulled out of the Atlantic after Titanic sunk. Nor did I picture me, trying to wash my hair, soap in my eyes, screaming back that he needed to go to bed and mommy wasn't drowning.

Alas, this was the scene Saturday night as I was racing around trying to get ready to go out of town for three days for work. Andy came home while this scene was playing out and it was grand to get to finish my shower with the entire family in the bathroom like it was some sort of Dr. Phil prescribed family time.

There I was trying to take the worlds fastest shower, my husband was comforting my traumatized son who was sobbing and muttering something about "Mama no shower," and I thought back to the times when I didn't have to craft a clever Ocean's 11 type scheme to score a few moments alone to groom.

Oh, the good old days.

Tonight, I tucked Sam into bed and we said our prayers:

Me: Now I lay me
Sam: Down to sleep
Me: I pray the Lord
Sam: My soul to keep
Me: Guide and watch me
Sam: Through the night
Me: Wake me with
Sam: the Morning light
Us: Amen
Me: Okay, good night.
Sam: (still praying) God bless Mama and Daddy, Nina and Papa, Tiggy and Pop
Me: Aww, how sweet
Sam: Help Nanny Coot to feel better
Me: He is going to be an evangelist...this kid can pray on his own.
Sam: And thank you for Aunt Nina
Me: Wonder if theres a box to check for genius prayer warriors on his chart. This is probably because he was formula fed.
Sam: Thank you for Samuel. Thank you for spaghetti and pizza.
Me:'s good to pray for things we love. God created everything.
Sam: God bless dinosaurs and bunny and dinosaur train and Scooby Doo
Me: He's being a bit of a Pharisee with this prayer.
Sam: Thank you for sky and birds and trains and cookies and sprinkles and mama's car. And Now I lay me down to sleep...
Me: Okay, he's looping back to the beginning...this is a Code Red, classic bedtime stall tactic. Good night Sam...God heard you the first time.

Sam's mommy


Clh03uga said…
Defintely because he was formula fed. HAHAHHAHAHAHAHA

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