energy vampire

I swear, my kid is a succubus.

I wake up in the morning and from the moment I lift him out of his crib, I am serving him. I am devoting every waking moment - save for one or two on the toilet - to his needs, wants and whims. Yesterday was a whirlwind of activity and I spent even more time attending to him than I normally do. I didn't get my quiet two hours in the early morning when he plays with his trains and I drink coffee and read the news. Yesterday we had his Kindermusik class at 9am and from there the day unfolded in a long string of outings, public bum-wipings and debit card swipings. I got a little less than two hours while he napped and then it was back in the saddle. He was a good boy, but he really did become an energy vampire.

At 4pm we were in his room, the evidence of his tornadic activity all over the floor. I was lying in a pile of his dirty laundry, which he'd removed piece by piece from his hamper. I had 16 crayons at my feet and several pieces of paper on which were drawn bunnies and balloons and anything else he wanted to see. Many of the crayons had been beheaded by his teeth. There was yet another pile of Q-tips in the corner - I have no idea where he's getting these things but he throws them everywhere. And as I was reading him a story he toddled over to his bag of pizza-flavored Goldfish (the snack of champions) and held it upside down and shook until they all came out on the carpet. And of course we have a plethora of toys too, generally little wooden ones that are just the right size for ankle-spraining.

So this is the scene.

I put on his Kindermusik cd and we listen to some music. By and by he brings me a book. "Dr. Duck" to be exact. (I picked it out at the library for him last week while he ran up and down the shelves throwing books on the floor. I of course had the pick them up and re-learn the Dewey Decimal System, which schooled my ass. Anyway, after almost a week I want to freaking kill Dr. Duck because I've read it so many times.)

So I'm lying on my belly in the dirty laundry pile and he's sitting next to me. We're reading, and then my favorite little Kindermusik song comes on and I stop for a moment, turn my head 90 degrees to the left to look at him and sing to him.

And he frowns, reaches out, shoves my head 90 degrees back to the Dr. Duck book, and says, "Read".

Ah, gratitude.