Tuesday, January 20, 2009
ah, to be single again...
I'm not cut out to be a wife or mother. I lose my touch with projects more demanding than watching snow fall or drinking coffee, although I think I could manage drinking coffee while watching snow fall.
This afternoon I fell asleep after buckling Ike into his bouncy chair in front of a Baby Einstein DVD. I had originally thought he might fall asleep on the bed with me, but he seemed more interested in whimpering while attempting to eat my hair. So I decided, despite the dire predictions of Neil Postman, to raise my child in front of the television. At least in front of Baby Einstein, C-SPAN, and the sleazy 1970s crime movies that Charles keeps bringing home.
Ike cooed while purple zebra puppets painted Monet scenes, and I fell asleep thinking worried thoughts about the laundry I'd left in the laundry room. When Ike started crying, I was behind the glass wall of sleep. My limbs were too heavy to move, and besides, I was involved in a dream where my neighbors were rummaging through the sheets in my laundry basket. A xylophone version of Vivaldi's Four Seasons was playing over and over. I don't know how long Ike cried, but I must have finally got up and brought him back to bed with me, because when I woke up an hour later he was there, still crying and tugging on my hair.
The sun had set, my laundry was hogging all the dryers in the laundry room, xylophone Vivaldi trilled from the menu page of the Baby Einstein DVD, and Charles has sent a text message saying he was staying late at the office. Something had to be made for dinner.
I think I was a lot better at being single.