Tuesday, March 29, 2011

half and half

Did I mention I'm grumpy?

But I try my best. Donovan wanted help reconstructing some of his Legos and couldn't find the little pot that sits atop his fortress, from which fire pours down on would-be attackers. I looked at his disaster of a bedroom and told him he needed to clean his room first. Then I went into Ainsleigh's room and began to search her closet bins in case the piece was in there (as it, and others, often are - I do enjoy how well they usually play together: the Legos, the Playmobil, the Pet Shops, and the Princesses in symbiotic harmony).

Soon, moans and cries wafted through the door and I returned to Dono's room to see him laid out on his bed, his despair clearly etched on his face as tears ran down his head and into his ears.

Impatiently, I told him to get off the bed. How many times have I said, "You can cry about it, and then clean it up, or you can just clean it up and have a lot more time to play. Either way, the cleaning gets done, but only one way does it get done with a Mom who is happy."

I sat down in front of his closet and began to sort toys according to type: Legos, Playmobil, cars, dinosaurs, bugs, Star Wars, etc. Donovan peeled himself off the bed and stomped around the room (which is actually kind of remarkable considering the limited floor space amongst the toys which have an uncanny knack of reproducing when I'm not looking), crying inconsolably.

I might have told him to cut it out.

I might have also told him he was in danger of losing a new toy if he kept it up.

"Ohhhhhhh!" he hiccup-squeal-cried, "You are the WORST MOM EVERRRRRRR!"

This is one of those ridiculous moments that you can't possibly be mad at. I looked at him, giving him my best wry "you're dumb" faces.

"Reeeeeeeeally? Because I thought I was in here to help you find your Lego piece so I could help you reconstruct your enemy outpost."

He paused and seemed to reassess the situation. Not quite as dramatically, but still with immense emotion, amended, "Well, I meant you are half the worst mom ever and half the best mom ever."

I think by the book of Moms, that's just about the best indicator that I'm doing my job correctly.


PaloAltoCougar said...

That's a great photo, with chiaroscuro reminiscent of Rembrandt's finest, although I don't recall "Legos" appearing in any of his works.

Glad you're batting .500

laura said...

I love everything about this post, up to and including the photo, but I don't think anything can top Pappy referencing "chiaroscuro" in a blog comment.

Annie said...

That is hilarious.