Day 246: Rotters in New York

Lunch. Silence and chewing all around

Laleex: “Hey John. Ice cream melts in the fridgrator.”

John: “Yeah. And on the counter. So does ice. Bananas don’t. Hey! Laleex! Race cars need a bunch of gas for power to work. But sometimes they just need a little bit. Like for racing. Except for racing.”

Paul: “cheese. Cheese. Cheese! CHEESE!!!!”

All Adults: “Grace get off the table. Grace, really get off the table. You’re naked, Grace, and we’re eating.”

As you can tell, I’m around the niece nephew and all their friends. We spent the morning at Music Together, an impressive half an hour program devoted to helping kids develop some form of musicality so they end up with better rhythm than me or their mother. Whenever I see childcare givers in their natural abode, I’m amazed at their patience. How sweet Julianna, the singing instructor, put up with ten kids, their parents, and numerous LOUD percussive instruments when very very few people (parents included) were paying attention to her at any given time is beyond me.

This in contrast to Claire’s blog post which involved topics that rely on intellectual stimulation and mature topics like religion and mullets. Kids do not bring out the intellectual in me. I love them to bits, but I’m beyond exhausted and have begun relying on “because I said so…” to get things done, which is horrible logic and I have lost fights to my three year old nephew all day. On the upside, I did get to give him an alien hairdo during bathtime, which entertained both of us for WAY too long. Being exhausted does bring my standards of humor a bit closer to his.

I also always ALWAYS get sick with babies around. They’re virulent little buggers. And their sicknesses are always so strong, which I don’t understand despite years of biology classes. They have weaker immune systems than we do; so why do their sicknesses always get me so very ill compared to other adult colds etc? Sigh. They’re in bed at 8; I think I’m off in an hour or so. Sometimes I just want them to be quieter and just want them to be able to do things like drink water without pouring it on me or without explaining to me (incorrectly) where raspberries come from and refusing to listen to my highly relevant and insightful ideas on this topic. And this is with the kids I’m totally obsessed with and that I don’t really have to deal with when they’re bad. Reason number 8 million and 12 my mother was insane for having children by my (very youthful) age.

I am so impressed with all people who have raised children right now. I cannot even begin to imagine. I am particularly impressed with my own parents, as I know for a fact that I was hardly a dream at any youthful age. Ask anyone who knows me; I was a handful. So thanks mom and dad…and to brother Will too since I’ve seen what siblings have to put up with. And congratulations to this same brother and his wife for raising such rotters so well; hats off to you. It’s impossible.

This is what we're working with here:


sarah mac said...

this picture is pricelessly sweet while at the same time, extremely good birth control.

trippingonwords said...

what's a rotter?

lara said...

a rotter is someone who is too cute for their own good, and decides to harness their powers not for good, but for getting away with things like whining or throwing things at their aunts.

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