Nubletwatch, the Weekend

The weekend was the part of taking care of Nublet that I really was scared of.  No daycare, no backup, no nothing.  Just me, a chatty two-year-old, and two days to try and keep her occupied and happy.

In the end, that really wasn’t that hard.

Both days began the same way.  Get up, then feed her breakfast–one of Wife Unit’s homemade chocolate-chip cherry muffins, a banana, and juice.  Then, plant her in front of the idiot box watching some Disney pap (My Friends Tigger and Pooh or Mickey Mouse Clubhouse) whilst I snuck off and snagged a quick shower.

Saturday, we went to the Super Target for grocery shopping.  She’s getting too big to ride in the cart, so she walked the store with me.  STRESS.  PUPPY.  TIME.  I mean, aren’t all supermarkets and stores full of sexual predators just waiting to snatch a toddler when they get out of your sight for one second?  Fortunately, the Durham Super Target apparently wasn’t, and Nublet stayed close enough that I could keep eyes on her anyway.  She was a good girl so I shamelessly bribed her with a reward.  I took her over to the toy section and told her she could pick out either a beanie Tigger, or a beanie Pooh.  She picked Tigger.  Five seconds later, of course, as we wheeled away, she started screaming for a beanie Pooh.

Sunday morning was taken up with me trying to get a little weekend testing done from home, and then it was off to the local mall, which has one of those indoor playgrounds where, as befits modern child-rearing, everything is padded and vinyl-covered and there are no sharp edges to hurt a child.  Except that for whatever reason, the outside wall of the area is still faced in rough-edged uncovered brick.  Go figure.  (How did I survive growing up with metal slides and ladders and monkey bars set up over rocks and dirt?)  After the play session, it was time to introduce Nublet to the nectar of the child gods…mall pizza.  OM NOM NOM NOM HULK SMASH.

After both those expeditions, it was afternoon nap time.  Saturday, she refused to nap, as she often does.  This is a bad thing, because when she doesn’t nap, she starts kicking on the wall separating her sleeping area from where I sit at the computer.  This is not conducive to chilling out and getting my head screwed back on straight.  Fortunately, Sunday, all the play caused her to immediately crash out hard, and I got in a couple of hours of uninterrupted time where I sat at the computer in a daze and forgot exactly what I wanted to do.

I’ll save you the boring details of the post-nap experiences, except to say that we ordered food out far too much.  And that she’s still the most amazing little two-year-old ever.

I just don’t understand how stay-at-home moms with multiple kids do this.  My mom stayed at home to raise two of us, and I knew she had a hard job and always respected her for it.  I just never knew how hard.

I’m at work now, where I’m catching up on my rest.  And Wife Unit is home, catching up on her rest, before I deliver Nublet to her from daycare this afternoon, and see the Joyous Reunion.

Not a moment too soon, either.

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