Tonight, my mama friends had a fantastic idea. At 8:30 p.m., which gave enough padding after bedtimes to safely escape for a few hours, we agreed to meet up for coffee and Pazookies at BJ’s. Brilliant, yes. I wish I had thought of it.
As per tradition, the Hubs and I try to take our kids on a neighborhood walk after dinner. For exercise? Fresh air? Family bonding? Eh, maybe, but mostly to burn about 45 minutes between dinner and bath time. After trudging through 115% humidity, we parked the double stroller and sweaty babes in the garage with about 15 minutes to spare until bath time. Perfect! Just enough time to take a shower and not look like a sweaty mess for my mama friends.
I quickly stripped down while the Hubs gave Baby Girl a bath. My 2-year-old son took his normal, weird spot on our bathroom rug to accompany me for my shower. He likes to call me “naked baby mama” and laugh and laugh when I’m in said state. Thanks for the ego boost, sweetheart.
I noticed he had brought Dr. Seuss’ ABC book. I checked it out from the library today (even though we own two copies) because it came with an audio CD. I’m hoping for a new toddler hobby to begin where he listens to his books being read while turning the pages – on his own – at each ding. This would be happening while I clean, feed the baby, take a siesta, etc. But, of course, I still hear “Mama read it!” every time I hit “play” on our ancient CD stereo.
So, as I’m hustling through a hair-washing, he’s begging for me to read this book for the 56th time. He’s learned to use the word “please” to his devilish benefit.
“Pweese, Mama, pweese!”
How can a mother resist?
And so, I begin reciting the book by memory, talking loudly over the shower.
“Big A, Little A, what begins with A?…”
I get all the way to T, feeling quite proud of my amazing memory, when I stumble. What the heck does Big T, Little T rhyme with? WHAT BEGINS WITH T? I try to coax it out of my toddler while he just stares back blankly. Time to call in reinforcements.
“Ten tired turtles on a tuttle-tuttle tree!” the Hubs shouts back, while drying off Baby Girl.
After jumping out of the shower and into a robe (hair and eyeliner will be tossed together after bedtime), I hurry my son into his shower, yank on his pjs, and barter his bedtime request for five books down to two. After a quick read of Bob Shea’s “Unicorn Thinks He’s So Great” and Oliver Jeffers’ “The Day The Crayons Came Home” – which is NOT a fast or easy read thanks to the too-many words written in crayon – it’s prayers, a kiss, a hug, a kiss from his three dogs, stuffed star, and stuffed moon, a discussion about his blanket, and, finally, a song request. I croon the Alphabet Song to him for the 27th time today (while admiring the richness of my singing voice and wondering why I never auditioned for American Idol), and back out of the room.
If he comes out now, it’s on Dada, as Mama is heading out for a giant cookie, ice cream, coffee, and mom talk.
What book has your child asked you to read so many times you have it memorized?
Chicka Chicka Boom Boom