Fired
If you're a client, don't panic.
I was fired from something much bigger.
I was fired from tuck-ins.
For 9 1/2 years, I have been the primary bed tucker inner. It's our time to read, talk, catch up. It's my favorite time of day.
And this week I got fired.
It started innocently enough. I thought it might be fun to do a double tuck- both my hubby and I tucking the kids in.
Well, guess who pulled out the Super Dad bag of tricks? The next thing I know there was a dog pile on my daughter's bed-- Shane, Zoe, Skip, Dixie the dog and I was the one yelling:
"Guys, guys, calm down.... someone is going to get hurt... hey, calm down, IT'S BED TIME!!"
Me.
I was the grown up.
What?!?!
I'm the one who taught the kids to hang spoons from their noses.
Not him.
I was also the one who got stuck calming the little buggers down so they could go to sleep. And I got to deal with them in the morning when they were tired.
So when the next night Papa Bean was requested, I tried to stop it.
Guess what? He loves to tuck them in.
MY children.
I mean, technically, they are his, too, but HEY- it's my job to snuggle with them.
Three days later, I'm still benched.
Dad is suddenly the fun one.
That is jacked up.
We're not divorced. We're not competing for affection. And the reason we're not competing is because they are supposed to like ME MORE! I'M THE COOL, FUN ONE!
Or at least I used to be.
Well, I'm not always the cool one. I do the morning routine- I make sure the homework is done, the beds are made, teeth brushed, hair in place-- the boring mom stuff. But bed times were different. That's when I got to be fun. And now, I've been replaced by Cool Daddy Bean. Whatever.
For now, however, I will sit on the sideline and be the mature one. The one who points out that all of them jumping on the bed is a very bad idea.
And it sucks.
I was fired from something much bigger.
I was fired from tuck-ins.
For 9 1/2 years, I have been the primary bed tucker inner. It's our time to read, talk, catch up. It's my favorite time of day.
And this week I got fired.
It started innocently enough. I thought it might be fun to do a double tuck- both my hubby and I tucking the kids in.
Well, guess who pulled out the Super Dad bag of tricks? The next thing I know there was a dog pile on my daughter's bed-- Shane, Zoe, Skip, Dixie the dog and I was the one yelling:
"Guys, guys, calm down.... someone is going to get hurt... hey, calm down, IT'S BED TIME!!"
Me.
I was the grown up.
What?!?!
I'm the one who taught the kids to hang spoons from their noses.
Not him.
I was also the one who got stuck calming the little buggers down so they could go to sleep. And I got to deal with them in the morning when they were tired.
So when the next night Papa Bean was requested, I tried to stop it.
Guess what? He loves to tuck them in.
MY children.
I mean, technically, they are his, too, but HEY- it's my job to snuggle with them.
Three days later, I'm still benched.
Dad is suddenly the fun one.
That is jacked up.
We're not divorced. We're not competing for affection. And the reason we're not competing is because they are supposed to like ME MORE! I'M THE COOL, FUN ONE!
Or at least I used to be.
Well, I'm not always the cool one. I do the morning routine- I make sure the homework is done, the beds are made, teeth brushed, hair in place-- the boring mom stuff. But bed times were different. That's when I got to be fun. And now, I've been replaced by Cool Daddy Bean. Whatever.
For now, however, I will sit on the sideline and be the mature one. The one who points out that all of them jumping on the bed is a very bad idea.
And it sucks.
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