Unless you have a two year old, or any child who naps in your household, you have no comprehension of the stress involved when noise is made during those naps. It's the kind of stress akin to running from a bomber plane aiming a huge machine gun at you with bullets bouncing at your feet. It's the kind of stress that happens when you go to chase a 120 pound rottweiler out of your yard and, after he turns to run, stops, sizes you up and realizes he weighs as much as you. And he has muscle. And big teeth. And he takes off running at speeds that would break Mach 1 - twice - and you're running for the door keeping your hips thrust in front of you at least 3 feet because you know he's going for your butt and there's nothing else on your mind but getting in that door, both cheeks intact.
When a child naps, it's the only time we have to relax. When I say relax, I mean I get to clean the bathtub without the house midget leaning over me, asking 50 questions and trying to touch the green cleanser, which always ends up in his hair, on his face and all over me.
The mornings that Liam sleeps in, I quietly rise, make the coffee and sit on the couch in the dark to meditate, pray, and think about what I'm going to make for dinner.
This morning was one of those mornings when he slept in and I, instead of bouncing out of bed and making the coffee, thought I'd just lay there awhile and doze. I got up, went to the bathroom, tiptoed back toward the bed and saw that Druck had flung the covers off of himself. "He's not up yet," I say. "I'm gonna lay down for a few more minutes."
"But I need to get going," says the frumpy mass on the bed, rubbing his eyes and looking pathetic.
When this occurs, what I would like to do is put my hands on my hips and SCREAM, "Then go make the damned coffee YOURSELF, FOR CRYING OUT LOUD!"
Instead, because he is the main bread winner and has enough stress in his life to fill the Rose Bowl x 4, I sigh quietly, march to my bathrobe, fling it on and, with an annoyed huff, quietly slip out to the kitchen to QUIETLY make the coffee. And, like clockwork, when the coffee stops gurgling, working man emerges and gets his pre-dawn elixir.
This morning, like the other rare mornings when he sees his wife sitting peacefully on the couch, in the dark, and there is no angelic chatter going on in stereo around us, he rummages through the cupboard as if there were but one coffee cup amidst 5,000 plates. "What the HELL is going on out there?" I say in an increasingly loud whisper. Working man says nothing and closes the cupboard. Loudly. As if the latch is on the other side of the wall and the only way to close it is to get a running start, leap through the air and ram his shoulder into it.
Throwing my hands up in the air and rolling my head from side to side, I throw out a loud "Tch! Tch!" which sounds like a less than amused cricket giving its prey a pre-murderous warning.
When Druck walks past, hair plastered to the back of his head and not even glancing my way, I say, "I wonder how many years I'll get if they can't find you." Which is followed by a quiet close of the bedroom door as I sit there. Annoyed.
And now the little darling is down for his nap. And despite the fact that no one, absolutely no one, called me or rang my doorbell when he was walking, talking and singing, now that it's naptime, the mother of the neighbor lady who is visiting from out of state has come by, rung the doorbell, talked my ear off in a loud voice because she can't hear, and I am all but sweating adrenaline because I just need some time, ok? And her rambling about the dentist is killing me, making me want my own root canal NOW. And the UPS guy, who normally drops off any kind of packages at 5:30 pm, has already been here by 3 pm, and, of course, rang the bell and left faster than I could open the door and yell, WHY ARE YOU HERE THIS EARLY, so loudly that he will never ever need dermabrasion NO MATTER WHAT.
The phone hasn't rung since yesterday afternoon (at naptime) but now it's gone off 3 times. And those blasted trains, that usually only come by once an hour, have come by three times in 40 minutes, blaring their warning signal non-stop.
Trains, helicopters, UPS men, neighbors, politicians, pollsters, long distance reps, scientists and cable guys are apparently required to take a prerequisite before being hired: IDIOTS 101 (Ignoring Daytime Importance of Toddlers Sleeping). I'll dedicate the reference to the Idiot UPS guy to KSP, who knows who he is. Scientists, you ask? What do they have to do with IDIOTS 101? Ahem. I'm married to the scientist.
As for that rottweiler story (you thought I'd leave that one hanging?), he never got a taste of my butt, but instead, as my young children (at the time) looked on, I took those 36" legs and leapt from the ground to the top of the porch (five steps, I'll have you know) in one bound. As I scurried inside the door, he came to a screeching halt and slammed into the steps, apparently unable to hurl that large mass up five steps, even though he thought he could. Maggie: 1. Rottweiler: 0.
Copyright 2010 liamsgrandma
