Tuesday, March 17, 2009
Stretching My Patience
He's not this tiny, but this is the only image I could find. Remember this guy? I wish I had one right now. Mr. Wapkaplet is finally walking and with that new stage, comes another round of separation anxiety. Help. I would like to stretch his little arms out and then tie him to the banister until he turns 3. Why the banister? Why the hell not, I say.
Seems as if he's always there, all day long, pulling on my pants legs, wanting to be picked up. Go figure. He's mobile now but still doesn't want to use his legs! Little people are so strange. And whiny! Geez, I hear it in my sleep. It'll pass, these phases always do. Only problem is by the time it passes, I'll be on the verge of ripping the hair out of my scalp.
Whoever said Grandparents have more patience is full of crap. Oh, wait...maybe that applies to grandparents who can actually spend small increments of time with the precious ones instead of raising them. Sometimes it's a strange place to be.
I love him, of course, I do. And I would literally kill anyone who tried to take or hurt him, he's my joy. Most of the time. But today, not feelin' the joy people.
I suppose I could start drinking early in honor of St. Patrick's Day, huh?