Against all better suggestions I signed Zach and I up for Gymboree and Fundamentally Music classes each week. One on Tuesday and one on Thursday with our playgroup meeting in between. This was a desperate move stemming from being cooped up in the house with a very mobile, very verbal, busy little man. I just had to GET US OUT. And as is my nature, I took it a bit too far.
Three days of activities is too much. Three days of activities plus work is waaaaay too much. I am exhausted and we have only done it 1.5 weeks. We have 10 more to go. I am not kidding, unfortunately.
So last week after I flew out of work to scoop him up and hustle over to 45 minutes of Gymboree (where all he wanted to play with was the basketball hoop, PS) I was beat. All I wanted when we finally got home was a snack and some quiet. Ha, ha, ha, ha. So I pulled one of my mother’s techniques and closed myself in my closet (which I naturally thought was crazy years ago when she did it). I would like to break with this caveat – my closet is not that big. Yes, you can technically “walk into” it, but then you just circle in place.
I had left Zach in the kitchen digging through my purse and grabbed a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, told him I was going to change and snuck away. What? Our house is baby proofed, worse case he would fall down and really he does that all day. Plus it is not like we are in a two story house, I can hear him if he screams.
So I am eating my sandwich, standing in my closet enjoying the silence, with one ear listening for him, when I hear a small creak. It is the doorknob turning. Next thing I know he is exclaiming “Mommy!”, closing us both in the closet and wanting my sandwich. Which he does not normally eat. Ever. Nothing sticky. At. All.
After I stopped laughing, I gave him the rest of my sandwich and tried to leave the closet. This was unacceptable, he wanted to eat sitting in my lap. In my closet.
I guess we both needed some quiet time.