Cookie Monster's Got Nothin' on Me

I spent many years looking forward to having children, now I spend all of my time trying to get them to go to sleep or tyring to find someone else to watch them.  Fortunately I’m armed with a long list of teenage babysitters from my teaching days.  I recently used a former student, now 18, as a sitter.  There is approximately a zero percent chance a long, rambling anecdote is not about to follow:

I came home one afternoon with bags and bags of groceries, the kids were napping so the sitter, let’s call her “Allison,” since that’s her name, proceeded to take the groceries out of their respective bags, arrange them by formation using a mathematical equation not even Matt Damon in Good Will Hunting could have solved, then promptly put them away for me.  I couldn't find a darn thing in the pantry for a week!  I finally realized she had strategically used alphabetization as an organizational tool.  Unfortunately, we had incompatible systems.  I couldn't find the Milano Chocolate Delight Cookies because she had filed them under "C" for cookie and I looked for them under "H" for Holy crap, Crusher won't take a nap, Bam Bam hit herself over the head with a plastic golf club, Crusher had a blow-out in a number four diaper, but he should've been wearing a number five...dangit where are my Milanos!?!?


Please don't misunderstand, I love spending time with people who pee in their pants.  However, my need for some time to myself increases exponentially when we hit new milestones such as their ever increasing need to be conscious more during the day.  And thus the nap negotiation lives on in our happy little household.  Bam Bam feels rather strongly that she is at peak performance with one mere nap a day.  Bam Bam's mom feels she needs two naps- loooong naps- to perform to the best of her ability.  Current negotiations are on-going, but in the meantime I've filed a grievance with the union.  I took this position with the expectation that two naps per day were standard until age 14.  I will wait patiently for due process to takes its course before I start walking the picket lines. 

In the meantime, I have an appointment tomorrow with my gynecologist to discuss my new and improved method of birth control.  I'm getting my tubes tied in a double-knot, then having them removed, irrigated and otherwise disposed of, and am getting an IUD because it's harder to get pregnant if you have an acronym in your cervix.

 

 

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