I am officially a bad mother. Here's today's reason:
We were at my in-laws' house to celebrate my father-in-law's birthday. Everybody was going to drive to Fredericksburg to visit the new grocery store. This wasn't just any grocery store. This was a Wegman's,where the floors gleam, the produce cures cancer, and the checkers poop solid gold reusable bags. Take the most rabid Trader Joe's fan, multiply the insanity by infinity, and you have a taste of the excitement this Wegman's has wrought onto my mother-in-law.
At least this is what I heard. I didn't go with the rest of the family to Grocery Nirvana because...(wait for it)...DING DING DING! I was home with the napping BABY! Again!
Disclaimer: In Paul's defense, he asked me repeatedly if I wanted to go, because he was willing to stay behind with Joel. I told him to go because he needed to buy some work clothes (as in DESPERATELY) while he was in town. I was fine, I said. Really. Fine. Goooooooo already.
"Don't bitch about this in your blog later," he said.
"I would never do that." I replied. "Give me some credit."
Ahem. Back to me being a bad mother. It was Joel and I, and we had about an hour to kill before his nap time. I watched him bang a Tupperware bowl on the floor. I watched him open and close a cabinet. Open. Close. Open. Close. I watched him chew on Goodnight Moon.
I was so bored I wanted to drill a hole in my head.
At home, Joel is "independent," and thank goodness for that. If he was needier, the house would look and smell like the abode of a crazy, cat-loving hoarder. Since he is able to entertain himself with toilet paper tubes and rugs, I am able to maintain a vermin-free home.
However, when we are away from home and I have no spills to clean or dishes to load, facts are facts: Joel can be kinda boring to watch.
I tried. I sat next to him and sang "The Itsy Bitsy Spider." He looked up from his cabinet-closing as if to say, "Look, Mom, I'm kinda busy here. Can we chat later?"
Nonplussed, I attempted to talk to him, creating that "language rich" environment the books espouse. "So, um, are you having fun banging that tube on the ground? That's good times. Yeah."
I talked to him like this for about three hours, except that all of the clocks in the house were broken, and they said it was only five minutes.
I put Joel down for his nap when it was appropriate to do so, although I considered doing it earlier once or twice. OKAY, A LOT.
Then, I sat in a chair and missed him.
I thought of his gleaming skin, his mind that will cure cancer, and his diapers, which produce solid gold nuggets. And I missed him.
I guess that's just how it works.