Not My Ideal Lazy Sunday Afternoon

Lately Bonhomme’s been role-playing more – doing the voices for his stuffed animals, having his little construction action figues have ennui. Playing out loud what goes on inside.
It’s adorable, it’s hilarious, it’s heartwrenching.
“Mumma, so, this guy? This guy has to go lie down because he has a bad cough.”
“Mumma, I had a great day today with you. But Penguinny’s not feeling so good. He has a headache.”
“Let’s do pretend-nap! That will make you feel better, Mommy!”

It’s killing me. On the one hand, I don’t think it’s a bad thing that children learn that their parents aren’t, in fact, invincible; that other people’s batteries do indeed occasionally run out. On the other hand though – this isn’t the Mom I want to be. The one who can’t chase my son around the house playing Megamind vs. Metroman with lightsabres and drills. The one who says it’s OK to play videogames for an hour, two, despite knowing how nuts it will make him later, because I desperately need to stay sitting down for that long. The one who is scanning the phone list to see who I could call to come over and play with him because the very thought of eight hours hours straight of one-on-one is exhausting. The one who says yes to bad food choice after bad food choice all afternoon because real cooking is way outside my energy envelope, and handling the inevitable arguing/whining/negotiating/pleading routine would be even worse.

None of this will kill him, I know. I did teach him to play Yahtzee today; a game I have my own fond childhood memories of. I’m not sure which of us was channelling my super-competitive-Yahtzee-crazy mother more. He could use a few more quiet-time activities in his arsenal. When Economicus told me today that both his girls will do puzzles on their own for four hours non-stop at daycare, I almost cried. Videogames are the only thing we’ve found that I consider even quasi-qualifies as play that will give us any breathers with Bonhomme – and even so, I usually have to field a running commentary (if I’m lucky), or a unending list of instructions (if I’m not).

“Mummy, why did you have a bad cough yesterday? Why are your lungs sore? Will you feel better after a good night’s sleep?”
These days, I can’t make many promises. But I can kiss Penguinny’s bumped chin, and somehow, to my son, that little bit of pretend makes love real.

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3 comments so far

  1. moosilaneous on

    Continued –
    with any luck the kids will turn out unscathed. I don’t think I do much better when well, come to think of it, but hey, I’m there, and they’ll have that.

    • mindofgrace on

      They sure will have that. And so much more.

  2. moosilaneous on

    Economicus is full of shit.
    I should know.
    Those girls, J and A, are capable of playing puzzle together for hours – but there has to be other diversions available, grown-ups to intercede in the battles and discuss every possible thing with them while they do it. Yes, they’ll go get another puzzle until every box they can reach has been emptied and constructed, and/or every piece of available floor is covered. But, then, at daycare there are at least 3 girls in the room. Not one.

    Also, you will get better. I had to make many of those same choices last year when I was ill, and


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