We Have Standing

I was really very tired. The kids didn’t sleep well on vacation because of the different routine and different beds. We had been on an airplane most of the day - at the kids bedtime we were still in Atlanta. J. screamed most of the drive from the airport to the house. I can’t say that I blame him; if I weren’t a civilized, mature adult I probably would have been crying from exhaustion too.

We get to the house, bring the kids inside, get their diapers changed, get them into PJs. It is about one in the morning. I put J., apparently asleep, to bed and nurse F. J. is not asleep, and starts crying a “don’t leave me alone in here, I’m tired and cranky and I WANT MY MOMMY NOW NOW NOW NOW NOW” cry. I finish with F. I put her in her crib. I turn to look at J. Sure enough, he is standing in his crib, holding on to the top railing, leaning forward, screaming.

Now, as I survey the developmental leap my son has made what words of joy do you think escaped my proud lips? How do you think I commemorated this momentous occasion? Come on, guess.

I said, “Oh, shit.”

Mother of the year, ladies and gentlemen, mother of the year.

Stumble it!

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