Dadness

[slipjig3]

And so, Adam's Grand and Glorious Parenting Adventure goes onward, ever onward.

Nik's got himself a lovely virus going, which means it's going to be a long night, methinks. He has a habit of coughing himself awake when the respiratory nasties come a-callin', and call they have (I don't call this house "the giant petri dish" for nothing). Nik's coughing sounds particularly nasty, one of those phlegmy, wheezing jobbers that sound like he's dislodging his thyroid. Mind you, this ahsn't affected his mood in the slightest, since he still bounces around like an otter in a Chuck E. Cheese ball pit. The only time he's in a bad mood is when we're trying to administer Motrin for the fever; at this stage, tattooing him would be easier.

Abbey, on the other hand, is her usual chipper self, more so now that birthday party plans are officially under way. The party in question will be held at the Fun Spot, formerly Skateland, and Abbey is soooo looking forward to it. (The grownups, less so.) Daddy's job today was handwriting 15 Finding Nemo invitations, which he was glad he got done quickly because if his manager at work had caught him he'd be a dead man.

I actually had some catching up to do, because yesterday I managed to commit several heinous and unforgivable crimes in the space of about 45 minutes:
1) picking Ms. Abigael up from the after-school program early, before she got her snack;
2) saying that the happy meals we'd be buying would be purchased at the drive-up window, thus depriving her of valuable crazed-lunatic-sugar-high time in the McDonald's Playroom;
3) telling her that Grandma was sick (not something you want to tell a 6-year-old drama queen who has already been weeping over lesser crises for 30 minutes);
4) playing a CD other than the one I burned for her last Christmas;
5) not handing over all the money in the change sorter in the van, as is her Daughterly Right.

*sigh* I can say with authority that Mariah Carey's handlers have it easy.

Comments

[yendi]

Sin #1 is one of those unforgivable ones. Because nothing we can (or are willing to) serve them at home can compare to the high-nutrition stuff aftercares serve (ours often serves vending machine quality stuff).

and "6-year-old drama queen" is very redundant (as is "8-year-old drama queen")

[slipjig.livejournal.com]

Thou speakest truth, kind sir. The thing that I loved about the picking-her-up-early crisis was that the brouhaha started while we were still walking to the car; I offered to let her go back in for the snack (since we weren't in a big hurry), but she refused, ferociously. I guess at that point it was more desirable to be the Injured Party.

[irisira03.livejournal.com]

The only time he's in a bad mood is when we're trying to administer Motrin for the fever; at this stage, tattooing him would be easier.

Well, would YOU want to take that stuff???

I was the worst when my mom tried to give me medicine. Although, now, I must say I am a fan of Vicks 44 when I'm sick. I brought a bottle of it to my summer job last year and took a shot an hour ... it was better than calling in and listening to my boss whine that I would only be working 38 hours that week, instead of my usual 45. :-)

FYI - everyone else worked about an average of 25-35 hrs/week.

[chiara607.livejournal.com]

You have inspired me to call my parents and apologize on behalf of Elizabeth and myself for being, at one time, six-year-old drama queens. (Well, her more than me, but that's really irrelevant.) I thought you'd be interested to know this.

Take care of yourself, Adam. :)