Navigating the sticky, jam-covered road of life.  

Monday, March 30, 2009

Whimpering

There's something about raising small children that instills in you the hearing of a super hero.   You hear it all.  The muttered protests of your preschooler at bath time.  Your child's cry from across the playground.  The small thud your toddler makes when she falls out of her newly converted crib.  (No worries.  It's less than a foot of the ground, and there's a comforter on the floor to soften the landing.)  The whimpering of a child, well past bedtime, from the top of the stairs.  I do think though, that it only applies in parenting situations.  I still can't hear my cellphone when it rings inside my handbag.  

It was the whimpering that we heard last night.  I was engrossed in the  Sex and the City movie.  I've only been waiting a year to see it.  But then I heard it.  Actually I should say that we heard it.  Now, my kids are sleepers.  Heavy, heavy sleepers.  So when one of them is whimpering at the top of the stairs almost three hours after they went to bed, there's a pretty big problem. 

 Todd, who has a far better back than I do, practically leapt up the stairs and had Sunshine in the bathroom before I made it to the top of the stairs.  I went to check the bedroom, and sure enough, everything needed to be changed.  Unfortunately I had just changed her sheets and duvet that morning.  But because I was on top of things, I had already washed and dried the extras.  Thank goodness I was productive this weekend.  

The speed with which Todd managed to get Sunshine showered and changed was matched by the speed with which I got her bed stripped and remade, and the carpet cleaned.  It astounded me.  Fast reflexes.  Add that to the list of skills that parenting sharpens.  

Poor Sunshine.  She did enjoy staying up a bit with us last night though.  Just needed to make sure that the situation wasn't going to repeat itself.  I was all out of clean sheets.  She was crushed that I had to cancel the play date we'd scheduled with one of her friends, but I think she's enjoyed being home today.  

***

In other news, the rigmarole that the Sate of Georgia puts you through in order to register your car is astounding.  We've put this off for this long just because the sheer amount of paperwork is astronomical.  And we can't even procure some of it because our bank wants things done differently from the DMV.  Lovely.  Neither side is willing to budge.  I love being caught in a lousy bureaucratic circle.  I'm hoping it's resolved soon.  I have no desire to drive to Virginia with expired Virginia tags.  

***

I'm so ready for March Madness to be over.  I can't stress enough how much I truly hate basketball.  Just have no patience for it.  And it drives me insane when I think about how my wonderful husband must watch EACH AND EVERY GAME, even though he doesn't watch basketball at any other time during the year.  It can't end soon enough.  

 

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Dear Ang:
It's a guy thing...guess there were too many girls at home when you were growing up!
Luv,DAD