I Want My Privilege Back!

by

He screamed.

He could barely breathe.

He slapped me.

He kicked me.

He threw himself around the room.

He was naked.

No.

This is not a picture of any man I have dated.

Second thought.

Yes.

It actually could be, but not any one I have dated recently (at least not in the last fifteen years), I swear.

Just the little guy I work for, the big boss, the 2 and 3/4 boy who also whipped a metal fork so hard across the table that it bounced up and smashed into a window.

I pulled him up and took him out of the high chair and there was no more dinner.

I pulled him up and took him out of the bath after the three count.

“M………. please stop throwing water out of the tub,” I said.

“M…………second time, please stop tossing water out, I will take you out, I will.”

“M………..last time, dude, you can enjoy the rest of bath time or you can get out.”

“M…………you lost your privilege, let’s go, out of the tub.”

I had already asked his older brother to pull the drain plug up, bath time was about to be over anyhow, which was a blessing, I was about done in today, although not as bad as yesterday.

Despite the little guys nap being shorter today, I actually managed my time better and made myself sit down and eat and rest.

I have to be on point.

Tomorrow begins Spring Break.

Which means I have both boys full throttle, all things go, zoom.

For the next two days and then Monday through Thursday of next week.

The nice thing, though, the family is taking a long weekend next weekend, and yes, Virginia, there is a Santa Claus, I have next Friday off.

Three day weekend!

I haven’t gotten there yet, I still have a nice weekend a head of me and two days of two boys yet to go.

I will be going in a half hour early every day from tomorrow on until the family leaves for their mini vacation.

This is balanced by being able to leave a half hour early.

But I was a little resentful this morning and had a lot of chatter in my head about how it was going to go today and what I was being asked to do, some extra work, some extra time with the boys, all the marketing, cooking, laundry, etc.

You know.

Work.

So I did some inventory and sent it off in a voicemail and what do you now.

The chatter stopped and I was present.

Present to go with the little guy to BiRIte and get some really nice fruit to have around the house for the next couple of days.

Present to make a really nice meal for the family (marinated chicken breasts in my own marinade–orange juice, tangerine zest, grape seed oil, sea salt, black pepper, thyme, rosemary, garlic–with sushi rice and corn on the cob for the parents and for the boys toasted Acme bread with smoke whitefish salad and avocado plus fruit salad from all the nice fruit I picked up at BiRite).

Present to snuggle with the monkeys when they needed snuggling, to see the park from their eyes, to run around Dolores Park and ride the wiggly slide and sit by the sandbox and watch them bury dinosaur eggs (I mean, duh, the Easter Bunny brought them dinosaur eggs, not peeps, please) that I had filled with “special snacks” to lure them out of the house with and to the park.

Present to laugh and sing and be jolly and silly and do my job.

“You just get to practice telling the family that your priority is going to be the boys and being present and energized for them,” she suggested to me over the phone.  “Which means, that you take a break when you need to, you sit down to eat lunch, you let some things slide.”

Ack.

I don’t like letting things slide.

I always want to be on top of it all.

I want the dishes not only loaded in the dishwasher, but I want the timing to be so that it coincides with the sushi rice being made in the rice cooker, so that I can unload said dishwasher and have all the food wrapped and prepped and washed and chopped and managed.

I want the laundry folded and arranged, with towels ready by the bath and pajamas, tops and bottoms and little boy, er excuse me, “big boy” underpants, at the ready, so that after bath time I can transition them to be ready for their parents and go to bed as I am leaving.

No such luck tonight.

I had a banshee of a little boy, running naked up and down the hall screaming about wanting his privilege back.

“IWANTMYPRIVILEGEBACK!!!”

I finally got him settled down and though breathing heavily and wriggling like only a slippery two-year old boy can, I brushed back his hair and said, “M……….., I have something for you.”

I held out my hand, flat, offered it to him.

“This is for you.”

He looked at my empty hand.

He looked at me.

“Here’s your privilege bunny, you can have it back.”

He snatched it out of my hand and ran back to the bathtub and tried to climb back in.

My tactic backfired.

He wailed when he saw that all the water had drained out.

“I want my bath!” He yelled and cried, and I knew I was about done.

I only have to get through the next ten minutes.

That’s all.

And the dad came up and helped and the Meow Meow was found and the pajamas got in and then.

Oh.

“M………… can you tell Carmen thank you,” the dad said.  “Can you give her a hug.”

He launched himself at me, “thank you Carmen!”

He kissed me, both sides, European style, sloppy, wet, heavy, delicious kisses.

“I love you.”

Sigh.

Kid.

I love you too.

And you get all your privileges.

I promise.

I really can’t deny you a one.

Because, ultimately.

The privilege is all mine.

See you bright and early in the morning.

Sleep tight and don’t let the bed bugs bite.

(What a horrible saying, who still says this?)

Tomorrow is another day full of privilege.

Sunshine.

Love.

Adventure.

And boys.

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