Mr. Monkeypants

There is an old saying that says “there is only one cutest baby in the world, and every mother has it”.  It is so true-my son is so adorable it almost hurts!

We have called my son monkeypants for almost his whole life.  It started with my parents who perferred to call him “Monkey Boy” rather than by his given name because A.) they hated his given name, and B.) when he was little he would cling to me like a little monkey and look at you curiously with his almost-cartoonishly huge eyes.  My parents still call him Monkey Boy and, as I was informed by my dad not two whole days ago, they intend to call him Monkey until they die.

So what was Monkey Boy from my parents turned into Monkey and then eventually Monkeypants from my husband and I.  We call him Monkeypants all the time [except when he's in trouble of course, then it's FIRSTNAME MIDDLENAME!!!] it was only a matter of time that he adopted the name for himself.

My son has a habit of calling himself out of his nap.  When he’s done with nap time he will lean his head out the door and call his own name.  He’ll say “Get up Firstname…..Fiiiiiiiirrrrrrssssstttnaaaaaammmeee!  Time to get up!”  Yesterday my son stuck out his head and called to himself “Firstname Middlename Monkeypants!  Oh Mister Moooonkeypants!  Get up from nap!”

I almost died laughing.  So I let him get up from nap and then I asked him, “Hey little boy, what’s your name?” and he looked me square in the eye and said “Firstname Middlename Monkeypants.  Nice to meet you.”

Nice to meet you too Mr. Monkeypants.

TV and Me

There are so many many people out there who tell you that it’s not okay to let your children watch tv.  They tell you that it stunts their learning, turns them off from reading, and messes them up socially.  They tell you that if you let your toddler watch tv you are a bad parent.

So what does that make me?

My child watches an hour and a half of tv per day-and I wouldn’t change it for the world.  Every morning at 10 am my son sits down with his morning snack [cheese and and a juicebox] and watches Blues Clues, Yo Gabba Gabba, and Wonderpets all in a row.  Sometimes, when I want to get rid of some especially pesky brain cells, I even let him watch Baby Einstein or Veggi Tales after nap.

What does that make me?

In my opinion, that makes me normal.  It makes me human.  I think a lot of people expect parents to have super-human patience and nerves of steel, but the fact is that just because I a mommy doesn’t make me Mother Teresa-or Wonder Woman [no matter what my son thinks].

I cannot make the house clean if someone else is simultaneously destroying it.  I do not possess the super lightening speed to do that.

I cannot make lunch, pay bills, call the doctor, clean the kitchen, and amuse my child at the same time.  Unless he is amused by multitasking….which he happens to find insufferably boring.

And finally I cannot spend 24 hours a day 7 days a week completely ignoring my own need for quiet time.  I have already forsaken alone time [every mom knows you cannot even pee by yourself when you have a 3 year old]-I simply do not have the super-human mental abilities to stay sane without a break. 

So if making lunch, paying the bills, calling the doctor, cleaning the house, and enjoying some relatively quiet time while my son is entranced by superhero classroom pets makes me a terrible parent then so be it.  I don’t think I’d want to be different anyway.

My Many Accomplishments

It might be said by some [including myself] that I avoid people that I knew in high school like the plague.  Not because I think they are bad people-some of them are and some of them aren’t just like any other random group in the population-and not because I am embarrassed about myself, my family, or my life.  I actually like all of those things, and think that I have done an exceptional job in all three categories so far.  No, the reason I hate running into people from high school is because they almost always have the same questions and the same reactions to those questions.

What have you been up to?

Oh….really….isn’t that….nice.

And they mean “nice” like ”I not-so-secretly think you’re an idiot”, not nice like awesome.  While these people that I run into tell me about their accomplishments-graduating college, getting some type of out-of-the-home career [I believe SAHM is a career too!], some of them buying their first homes and/or traveling the world, I always nod politely and tell them how wonderful it is that they did so well.  I always knew they would-etc. etc. etc.  But when it comes time for me to tell them about my life they always have a problem with it.

Most people are at least silent in their contempt and disapproval, which I suppose is better than nothing, but I have actually had people tell me that I could have “done so much more” with my life.  I happen to think I did exactly what I wanted to with my life and so that makes my accomplishments just as wonderful as theirs-even if it isn’t as glamorous and doesn’t pay as well.

I am a mom-that means I work 24/7 for no pay.  A lot of people wouldn’t do that.

I am a stay at home mom-that means that I have enough dedication to live in the land of my 3 year old.  That’s like living in a house run by an angry taxicab driver who speaks only broken english.  I have enough guts to spend my entire day rubbing PB&J out of the carpet, wiping poo out of his hair [he's still pottytraining!], making him 3 meals and 2 snacks, cleaning the house twice, and generally chasing him around while trying to simultaneously teach him morals, manners, reading, writing, numbers, colors, shapes, songs, and basic life skills like how to brush his teeth and drink from a cup without a lid.

I am pregnant-While that’s not an accomplishment in itself, it does make my daily life just that much harder…somedays getting out of bed is an accomplishment, depending on how sick I am.

I have many accomplishments, and I accomplish many things every day, but those accomplishments-having dinner ready on time, getting my three year old to take a bath without a fight, teaching him a new song about animals, my son going in the potty once or twice that day, how much my son and husband love me, and how happy my husband is at the end of the day-are not generally the type of accomplishments people my age care about unless they have families of their own.  Most of the people from my high school don’t have families-so they don’t think my accomplishments “count”.   They very rarely even understand them. 

It is a little disheartening to tell someone about accomplishments that you are so proud of and have them look back at you blankly or tell you straight out that they think your accomplishments are unimportant.  Especially when those little things are what you are most proud of and apart of your lifelong dream.

That’s why I don’t talk to people from highschool-our definition of “accomplishment” is just too different.