Tuesday, December 13, 2005

Evidence I'm an unfit mother: one tale of many.

I wanted to throw Little Man out the window yesterday. There is something wrong with the stupid washing machine in the basement, for some reason it's not doing its final rinse cycle, and my clothes are staying SOAKED. Haven't told the landlord because frankly, he just doesn't give a shit. (We're hoping to move by January anyway...anybody have an apartment for rent where I wouldn't have to give a security deposit right away cause we're dumb broke?) So I bring the very heavy laundry basket up to the third floor hell in which we live, and put it on the floor in the bathroom so I could wring the clothes out in the sink.
**Little Man has been playing peek-a-boo with towels/shirts/pants anything that will cover his face and get you to say "Peek-a-boo!"**
So into the bathroom he comes, carrying his towel which he took off the rack over an hour before all this, and holds it up waiting for the "Peek-a-boo!". I'm a horrible mother, I didn't notice because I was too busy freezing my hands wringing out clothes that should have been wrung IN THE GODDAMN WASHER. (and don't even get me started on the fucking dryer down there! And they're coin-op!) So he "eh!" at me getting my attention.
So I said it, and went to hang up the kinda-wrung-out-but-not-really T-shirt. I come back into the bathroom and this boy is squatting in front of my laundry basket, throwing the clothes out on the floor. He was looking for a new Peek-a-boo face covering device.
Deep breath from me- these clothes were just washed I don't want them on the floor.
"Little Man, get away from there."
"Huh? Dis?"
"Yes, get away from this."
"Eh? Da-da?"
"No Daddy is not in here, and he is not in the laundry basket..."
"Get out of the bathroom."
and I'm thinking "Why am I having this conversation with him?"
I grab his hand and walk him out of the bathroom, leaving him in the dining area next to the bathroom with about a gazillion of his toys.
And he comes back into the bathroom.
(Can I interrupt myslef to say that this guy at my job is REALLY annoying and he keeps coming by my desk to talk nonsense. And right now he is talking on his cellphone in front of my desk. GO TO YOUR OWN OFFICE BUDDY I DON'T CARE WHO THE FUCK YOU'RE TALKING TO OR WHAT YOU'RE SAYING!)
He starts lifting the toilet seat.
"Little Man stop it."
"Eh," and he lifts the toilet seat again.
He is never allowed in the bathroom unless I'm brushing his (4) teeth or giving him a bath- because he unrolls my toilet paper (and eats it) and he puts his hands in the toilet to splash the water. So the door is always closed...
The toilet seat fell on his finger... well not on his finger but it nipped his finger. And he tried giving me the little whine and the sad face, and I looked at him and said "Do you see why I told you to leave that alone?" No pity here, buddy. Stop touching shit I tell you not to touch.
(His finger was fine don't stone me.)

He stole my slippers before I could change into them when we all got home last night. I looked for them for a half hour before I found them- IN HIS TOY BOX. Apparently he put them there so he could play with them later. Daddy just bought me these slippers a few days ago, they are the cushiony (sp?) ones that are kinda fuzzy but not in a tacky way. Little Man loves them and actually takes them off my feet and runs away with them. I love that kid, even when I want to throw him out a window for throwing my clean clothes on the floor. Thank God I clean the bathroom every six months. (joke.)

He thought it was funny to bite his bottle, enlarging the hole, and holding the bottle upside down on my bed (but on Daddy's side hehehe) to watch the milk come out. And when I take the bottle away he takes his chubby little hands and goes over the milk, as if cleaning it up, but only spreading it. Little Man can I remind you about the screamfest I had about that damn washer, please don't get milk on my bed cause it'll take three days for my sheets to dry! (Has anyone ever tried taking a child to a laundrymat? It's impossible. Daddy and I tried it once and it was Grenadeso I'm trying to deal with the washer.) I think what I'm going to have to do is get Daddy or somebody to take Little Man for a couple hours so I can spend money on washers that actually work...and I could do six loads at once if I have to at a laundrymat. And my clothes will dry in the dryers! Oh the thought!

Crazy/Hip Blog-Mamas


Cattiva said...

Please don't take offense - but can I tell you how funny this post is?! It is the story of my life - unfortunately since we have started over again with a new baby, it is also my future.

Anyhoo - I love the Little Man and his adventures!

Dawn said...

Emily used to throw my birkenstock sandals in the garbge.

Sigh, and eat the cat food. Her coat was very glossy.