Weekend - Lazy Parents vs. Toddler

Weekends are for sleeping in, decompressing, and perhaps recovering from a previous night's activities. 

There's just no denying this irrefutable, immutable, irrepressible fact of life.  It is not a fact, however, that all fully appreciate or accept.  Morning people, youth sports league directors, and "weekend warriors" all, to some extent, have failed to grasp the overall purpose of the weekend.  But no one, no matter how happy in the morning, besieged with soccer games, or intent on hitting the trail head before sunrise misunderstands weekends more than toddlers. 

Mimi, of course, is no exception.  During the week Mimi usually wakes up sometime between 7:30 and 8:30.  This is perfectly acceptable behavior and while I'd appreciate a little more rest on a Saturday or Sunday morning, I'd still take it.  My darling Mimi, though, likes to get an early start on most weekends.  This morning we got a reprieve (being summed to her room a little after 8:00am), but most weekends begin with yelps for attention at 6:30 or 7:00.  This is cruel and unusual parental punishment.

Yes, yes, yes, I know I used to do this to my own parents.  I remember waking up at 6:30am to watch Mr. Ed on many a Saturday morning.  But it was Mr. Ed.  What four year-old wouldn't wake up early to catch a talking horse on a surfboard?  Mimi, though, wakes up early simply so that she can jump back into bed with us.  It's cute, granted, but if you happen to innocently fall back asleep while she's watching, she'll sit on your head. 

After being pummeled in our own bed until 9:30 or so, Sumie and I finally got up and started getting the house ready.  We were having friends over for lunch at 1:30 and we had to cook and clean.  Normally this wouldn't take all that long, but with Mimi on the prowl, the most basic tasks can become almost insurmountable.  As an example, let's take a look at fundamental and relatively mindless morning routine: brushing teeth.

For those without toddlers, this is a doddle.  You stumble into the bathroom, grab a toothbrush, put a dab of toothpaste on it, wet it, shove it in your mouth and brush.  A minute later you take it out and then rinse with some water.  An amoeba could do it.  But throw a toddler in the mix, and the whole operation goes to hell in a handbasket.  As soon as you put the toothbrush in your mouth - and no sooner, mind you - the child will ask for her own toothbrush.  This you give to her, along with a dab of training toothpaste.  By the time you begin to slurp up the inevitable runnel of toothpasty-spit slurging from the corner of your mouth - the one still crammed with your own toothbrush - your child has swallowed the training toothpaste and is now demanding juice in high-pitched wails.  It takes you 4 minutes to find her juice cup, which she left under your desk in the guest bedroom, 2 minutes to wash it, and 1 minute to fill it.  7 minutes isn't all that long, but it's plenty of time to ensure that enough goo has dribbled down your chin to require changing your shirt.  This you do and then look down at your, for the time being, satisfied toddler.  

Face sufficiently mopped up, you put new toothpaste on your brush, and a new dab of training toothpaste on your little girl's, and finish up your brushing.  If you're lucky, the toddler will play along.

Cleaning is another challenge.  When we had friends over pre-Mimi, it would maybe take us an hour or so to make sure the house was spic and span.  With Mimi, quite simply, one of us has to kidnap her and head for the park, store, or other diversion to let the other clean in peace.  We've learned this the hard way.  Take a look at the picture below.  You'll see a neat and orderly kitchen and dining table.  The floor is also freshly vacuumed.  There's just one thing out of place.  Can you spot it?

Today, to let Sumie clean, I took Mimi down to the shopping street to get her a pair of safety scissors.  The way down went well.  We got what we were looking for and Mimi, as a reward, got a pinwheel.  On the way back, though, she got a little fed up sitting in her stroller.  Here's another situation in which toddlers turn a task that should take 5 minutes into an endeavor of epic proportions.  Not only was Mimi no longer content with being in her stroller, she was now refusing to let me push it!  "Get away, fat man!  This one is mine!"

 Amazingly, she actually made some progress.  Sure, her rate of travel was about 1/167th of my own, but she was moving forward.  Thankfully, toddlers tend to tire quickly.  After 10 yards Mimi handed me back the reins and we waddled our way back home. 

When we got home the house was clean - thank you, Sumie! - and Sumie was free to distract Mimi while I cooked.   By the time our friends arrived the house was still relatively clean and lunch was almost ready.

Spending a weekend with a toddler is a bit like tag-team wrestling.  Even now, as I'm writing this blog entry, I had to tag in Sumie so that I could use my computer in peace.  As soon as I'm done I'll have to tag Sumie out so she can have a little peace while I bathe Mimi.  But after that will come sleep, I hope, and the main event will be over.  At least until 6:30 Sunday morning.