It hasn't been the best week in parenting. I'm trying to wean off the Paxil and I'm edgy and a little depressed. Honestly, I drove home from work tonight planning to write a little bit about how depressed and unloved I'm feeling. Whether it's the drug weaning or sleep deprivation or maybe it really is that everyone around me has just gotten supremely annoying lately, I don't know. But it's not been my best week.
I got home from work wanting nothing more than some food and a little quiet time to read. (Reading "Gone Girl." HOOKED! no spoilers!) I came in and devoured some food while being equal parts amused and bemused that Robbie was still awake and talking to himself. I decided to go in and sneak a snuggle and try to get him to sleep before returning to my Kindle.
When I went in, he exclaimed, "Mommy!" like he hadn't seen me in a year. He sat right up and smiled at me. Then told me very seriously, "Mommy, I'm hungry." I didn't doubt that was true. He hadn't eaten much of a lunch and David said he didn't eat much at dinner either.
I suppose a good parent would have told him to live with it because he hadn't eaten his dinner. And we did talk about the fact that he was hungry because he hadn't eaten. But then we negotiated some crackers and cheese. Specifically, he wanted some Penguin crackers (One of Aldi's knock-off versions of Goldfish, which I happen to think are quiet delicious.) and some "yellow cheese." I retrieved both and we proceeded to have the most adorable 11pm picnic in history.
We counted the penguins. We talked about their body parts. He was very amused that penguins don't have lips, they have beaks. We compared penguin bellies to Robbie's belly. Then he informed me that my belly is "underneath Mommy's boobies." I laughed and laugh. He told me that a piece of my straw hair looked like an elephant trunk. We talked about the letters and numbers on the bag of penguins, and on his sheets.
At one point, I dropped a cracker and he picked it up automatically. I laughed and asked if he'd just stolen my cracker. He froze, looked very serious and shoved the cracker in my mouth. He's no thief!
Eventually he finished his snack and I asked if he wanted me to sing him a song before he went to bed. He asked for a song I don't know (I can't even remember the title now!) and seemed truly befuddled that I didn't know it. I gave him a list of choices and eventually he decided on Ants Go Marching In. He got a big kick out of helping with the "boom boom boom!" part. When it was done, he shouted "hooray! NOW WE CAN SNUGGLE!" and threw himself into the snuggle position.
I snuggled up to him and kissed his soft cheeks. I smelled his sweet (cheesy) breath and told him I loved him. We practiced the first verse of Ants Go Marching so he could learn the lyrics. Somehow we talked about shadows which lead to making shadow puppets until I finally said we both had to go night-night. I turned on the music in room and told him goodnight.
I haven't stopped smiling since. This may not have been the best week in parenting, but it's amazing what a half hour dimly-lit impromptu picnic can do for the soul. Suddenly I'm not so depressed after all.