I liken my marriage to a once-great civilization that was sacked when a horde of Viking dwarves came ashore and had their way with us. Since then, it's been a saga of trying to communicate while the barbarians are at the baby gate.Yup. I totally get it! (And the teething-but-still-charming Viking dwarf, by the way, is in large part the reason behind my recent disappearance from the Situation. That, and the necessity of finishing another dissertation chapter--not yet begun--by the end of July.)
Tuesday, April 29, 2008
By Request
Solon asked that I post this blurb from a piece I stumbled across at Wondertime (where I faithfully read the Dalai Mama every week). Apparently, it can be found in an anthology, Blindsided by a Diaper. The excerpted essay, "Harried with Children: Communication Breakdown," was written by Kermit Pattison:
This is hillarious! Duckling has recently learned that dinner time is for conversation and tries to get her two cents in while S and I try to carry on a conversation. She also decided that she had a lot to say at 5:30am today. At 6am I once again surrendered to the viking dwarf, put her in her crib to talk to herself, and left the room. She talked (no crying) herself back to sleep.
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Supa-D and I are not allowed to talk to each other--especially at mealtime. If we attempt to have a conversation that doesn't directly involve Supa-T, he starts talking over us as loudly as he can (which is pretty damn loud). Those babies are crazy.
ReplyDeleteThanks for directing us to this site--it's great :)
ReplyDeleteThe author's name is Kermit. And I dig it.
ReplyDeleteWild Man has recently decided it is more effective to get our attention by whispering rather than shouting. So while C and I try to have a conversation, Wild Man suddenly looks at one of us very intently and whispers, necessitating that we stop talking to determine what he has to say. It's quite ingenious really.
ReplyDeleteActually the more effective way the little one communicates is by throwing food across the room and going "OH NO!" just to hear daddy say shit, so that he can respond "Shit, Shit" as he wipes his crummy little hands on my shirt or in my hair.
ReplyDeleteYeah sure that was an accident you little punk! You were just looking for a reason to get daddio in trouble with mommio for cursing too much and you needed your hands clean.
Sounds like you're blaming a toddler, who has absolutely zero impulse control, for your inability to stop using expletives around said toddler. Perhaps you should take responsibility for your own actions rather than blaming your child. ;)
ReplyDeleteKermit. Classic, I say. Classic.
ReplyDeleteGod, I've missed you Oxymoron!
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