Tank Chew

Another guest post from the Mrs.

______________________________________________________________

Yesterday, Darcie posted about how it melts her heart every time Loren says thank you.

My first experience with her saying it to me was a bit of a mixed bag.

Let me start off with saying I’m a little crazy. I like to make my own life harder. (This is a tough thing to admit, but my actions clearly dictate this.) Each day after a long day at work I come home and wait for Loren to be returned to me by her Aunt Kitty, typically about a 2 to 5 minute wait. In two minutes in Mommy time is close to two hours. I could get laundry going, start dinner, or build the Eiffel Tower in two minutes. I could most definitely take the dog out to pee, but I don’t.

I always wait for Loren and the three of us (two begrudgingly) walk to the mailbox. Typically, Loren DEMANDS to carry the leash, the mailbox keys ,or both and sometimes a sippy cup or a toy, or her cozy coupe. This is never an easy trek because it involves crossing the parking lot part of the apartment complex, which is basically just like crossing a street. It is always a production. (So much so that Kitty has even taken pictures.)

Once we make it to the grass near the mailbox it becomes a free-for-all. Loren drops the leash, Boston goes one way, Loren starts going another dropping all her prized possessions along the way, and there are always a few by-standers staring at me like I’m the world’s worst parent.

One such fateful afternoon, I was standing near the poop bag dispenser (because well it’s inevitable that I’m going to need one) waiting on Boston and Loren starts tugging on me and talking gibberish.

She clearly thought she was speaking English and that I’m dumb or mean or a combination; because, she was quickly escalating from talking to speaking loudly to almost yelling. I have no clue what she wants and Boston is clearly not ready to go back to the apartment. Out of desperation, I handed her the only thing in my hands, the mailbox keys. And that’s when I heard it the first time. Clear as day my little girl said, “Tank Chew.” (I must now remember that gahhhhaac eeee means “keys”)

I should have been proud of her manners or her ability to say a new word, but my actual though was “who the hell taught her to say thank you.”

This is mommy guilt creeping in. Loren is constantly doing new things, impressive things, which I would never have thought to teach her. I guess, Loren’s lucky to have so many wonderful people around to fill in the gaps that I’m clearly lacking in. But each time the kid shows me something new and unexpected, I have a moment of anxiety knowing that so many people will influence her life and I can’t control all of it.

Darcie said just because she’s not posting today doesn’t mean you guys are excused from clicking the banner and voting for our little corner of the world! She also muttered something about giving you guys free ponies in exchange for votes – but I know she doesn’t actually have any ponies to hand-out…so, vote at your own risk!

Vote for me @ Top Mommy Blogs - Mom Blog Directory

Advertisements

One thought on “Tank Chew

  1. I truly felt that kind of Mommy guilt when I went back to work. I felt horrible that I didn’t know what she had eaten that day or how much she had drank. I began to understand about why some parents choose to be stay at home moms. Now I also understand why some decide to home school. It’ll be fine, they say “It takes a village” One person can’t really be expected to teach another EVERYTHING, can they?

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s