I had to go to a dentist appointment and then had to go to Kmart and the grocery store ( I know if my life got any more exciting I would have to have my own reality show).
The point of this post however, is not to apprise you of all my exciting outings and glamours lifestyle.
I was gone for about four hours. My husband watched my little ones for those four hours. FOUR HOURS!
I came home, dumped my plastic bags of household necessities and was immediately struck by the quiet.
"Um…where are the children" I asked tentatively.
"Oh, they have been playing upstairs for like…oh…an hour or so. They have been playing really good, pretty much the whole time".
Well isn't that wonderful for you.
This is what my two-year-old did in the 30 minutes after I came home.
~ threw and broke her mug of yogurt
~ spilled her mug of soup on herself and table… (we like mugs)
and last, but certainly not the least of her offenses:
~decided to put nearly an entire roll of toilet paper in the toilet, after she went poop of course, and over-flowed, said toilet.
Did I mention this was in about the span of 30 minutes?
Which leads me to conclude:
Sometimes I think they just don't like me.
It seems this always happens.
They don't throw a fit for "Daddy" when it comes to bedtime or naptime either.
Why don't I let him do it every night?
Maybe it has something to do with the fact that I am the parent who does most of the discipline, the assigning of chores, the exasperated cries of "just be quiet or go away" as my nightly fatigue sets in.
I am also the parent who, likewise, feels the most guilt for being so busy during the day, I rarely sit down and play and be silly for any length of time. I am the one who does not have the time to listen to all of their long, silly, but important to them, stories. I mean to, but something always happens, and I inevitably have to mutter: "Sorry honey I gotta go and…(fill in the blank).
Maybe somewhere in the deep recess of their juvenile, but astute mind they are aware of this, and exploit it.
Just a theory.