You should know that The Boy is the Husband's own little Mini-Me, no sign of me anywhere in there. One friend even laughingly remarked that she wasn't sure who his mom was but she sure as hell knows who his dad is!
Yes, so no trace of me anywhere.
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| An early pic, The Boy is ± 3 months old but already the profiles are so similar. |
Fortunately I still love the Husband very much and am always pleasantly fascinated to study my Boy and find so many matching traits, particularly physically - beautiful strong muscular legs, blue eyes, naughty smile, strong arms and cute boudjies. If I can love finding all these similarities of my best friend in my child I imagine he would love to do the same, possibly in a little girl.
It always amuses me that when considering having another child The Husband gets a little twinkle in his eyes and has to rub them ("contact lenses are dry, you know..") Rather sweet. I suppose little girls are as close to a daddy's heart just like little boys are special to a mommy. Yes, yes, I know girls and boys are equally special to a parent but if you have a little boy you'll know what I mean.
Anyway. What was my thread? Oh right. The little Snow White princess.
The Husband remarked (quite enviously) at how well behaved and easy going she was. Our host agreed saying that Snow White knew "where she stood" with her parents hence the good behaviour etc. Which led me to start thinking about the Boy's assessment of the limits he could impose on his parents.
Because, quite frankly, I am feeling rather ineffective as a parent these days.
Despite his slight impaired hearing, my voice seems to have lost its authority over my child. It seems I need to repeat myself a gazillion times to get anything done and then, because the Boy is a true African and obviously works on African time, (especially Cape Town time) I have to light a fire under his butt and end up bellowing my requests, alerting the neighbours to another Mommy meltdown.
And how many times do I have to tell you not to switch the fan on and not stick your finger through the safety bars?? This is despite already knocking it over, popping the grill off, and trying to pick it up while its still running and nicking your finger. Do you not learn from your accidents? Your little mind is supposed to be like the proverbial sponge!
And when I ask you to go pee, please, just go pee. The whole teddy family does not have to come along and bear witness to your ablutions. (Bear witness, geddit..?)
When preparing for the bath-time drill, just get undressed and climb in. No, the contents of your toy box does not need to accompany you, -please get in the bath - lovingly fetched one toy at a time, - get in the bath - resulting in a 10 minute delay - just get in the bath already! - and cooler-than-luke-warm bath water. Ten minutes is big when the ice in your waiting wine glass is melting.
In the mornings, when I call you from downstairs to get ready for school, please just switch the TV off and come, for Heaven's sake. Don't tease me by replying "Coming, Mommy!" and then not bothering to move from the couch till I come stomping up the stairs to investigate where the blue blazes you are and ending up being 20 minutes late. Again.
Why are we so tired? Because we have to keep nagging our distracted offspring (and often men) to do the most basic things over and over and over again.
You know, sons/husbands think that nagging moms/wives are irritating but we wouldn't have to nag if they Just.Did.it.The.First.Time.We.Asked.You.To!
Simple.
Now include PMS into this issue and you can imagine the good times enjoyed at the Griswold household.
Poor neighbours. No wonder they've all sold up and moved.
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