Sunday, March 11, 2012

What I Think About in the Bathtub

 So I’m trying to unwind in a nice bath but it’s hard when staring at me is a gigantic fireman rubber ducky on the faucet there to protect my kids from injuring their heads. I say fuck it and pour bubble bath into it’s head and watch luxurious bubbles pour out of it’s face. Calgon take me away. But instead I fall into “The Spin” that happens occasionally.
My kid just ate raw hamburger off the floor. Is that okay?
My kid talked to me through a kazoo for the entire day yesterday. Is that okay?
When my kid meets new people she serenades them with Biz Markie. Is that okay?
I tell my child, who will only wears dresses that a long shirt and leggings are a dress and tights so she’ll wear them. Is that okay?
My kid likes to sleep with an apple and a VHS tape. Is that okay?
My kids speaks as though English is her second language. (Ice cream, you want?) Is that okay?
My kid draws Tim Burton-esqe people with alien eyes. Is that okay?
My kid is deathly afraid of jumpy castles even though she is an Olympics qualified couch jumper. Is that okay?
My kid kept a shrimp in her mouth for a hour (until it became liquified) in an act of defiance because she didn’t want to swallow it. Is that okay?
 I take baths while leaving my children unsupervised. Probably not okay.
 I listen. It’s entirely too quiet in the next room.
 “Everything okay out there?”  I yell out to the girls. “Love Monster, is your sister okay?”
 “Yeah,” Love Monster says. 
 I’m pretty sure she’d say that if Smirker was bleeding out her eyeballs.
 I hear Smirker laugh. The eyeballs are intact for now.

 It’s the new year and I need some validation. 
 I worry that it’s not okay. Is it (dare I say this word) normal? Yeah I know. Who cares about normal? Your child is an individual. Like a snowflake. Blah blah. Whatever. But normal is comforting sometimes.
 I get out of the bath, put on my robe and check on the girls. Love Monster is playing with play dough and Smirker is feasting on it like it’s thanksgiving dinner. Great.
 “Mama, she’s eating my art,” Love Monster says.
 I remove Love Monster’s (non toxic)  sculpture from Smirker’s mouth. They look at me and smile. 
 “You happy, mama?” Love Monster asks. 
 Smirker licks her finger to get a last taste of play dough deliciousness. 
 “I can give you hug, you want,” Love Monster adds.
 Of course it’s okay. You know why? Because...Sing it with me Love Monster: “Oh baby you, you got what I need...”

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