Mom Tip #55

Should a mom attempt to take a day (or even a few hours off), she should be prepared for the consequences of her diminished vigilance.

Now it is the Christmas season and between decorating, cleaning, cooking, laundry, and making gifts things are a little hairy here at Zoo Suburbia. I've been up at 6 and going to bed at 2 and lather, rinse, repeating for three weeks straight. I'm a little tired and more than a little punchy. So I thought I would cut myself a little slack and take a break today. I have been at this for five years - you would think that I would know by now.

We put the tree up last night and the Lion and I put the lights on and then he supervised while I put the basic decorations on. It was beautiful with the dried grapefruit and oranges, the homemade cinnamon clay and baking soda clay ornaments, the white twinkling lights and the candy canes. I just sat in the glow for a while last night and looked at it.

(Last year, just learning to crawl and explore)

This morning after everyone was distributed to their proper places I took a time out with my coffee and the blogosphere and just relaxed. I was happily reading along and commenting on friends posts when suddenly there was an EXTREMELY sticky hand on my arm. I really didn't want to look. I tried for the longest to ignore what I knew was inevitable. Then the thought occurred to me that the longer that sticky hand stayed there without moving the more it was going to hurt when it came off taking even the smallest armhairs with it.

I peeked out of the corner of my eye and my worst fears were confirmed. There beside me in all of her curly headed glory was my beloved little Marmoset, bright pink from her nose to her chin and grinning from ear to ear. In her other hand a remnant with a few faint red and white stripes left on it.

(This year, learning how to be sneakiy while maintaining the cute factor!)

What's a mom to do? I heaved a little sigh and scooped her up. But the fun wasn't over. There curled up in a lttle ball under the coffee table was a certain S.M. Rhino trying to shove the stepstool around the corner out of sight. I shooed him out from under and hustled them both to the bathroom to clean up. There were no canes on the bottom three feet of a nine foot tree. None. When interviewed about how many he had consumed Rhino assured me that he and Marmoset had only had two a piece. So what happened to the rest of the canes?

He had tucked them away in a secret stash under the coffee table. You have to give him some credit. He was smart. He was fast. And he was honest.

But the crash from that sugar high took me out! Last time before Christmas I take a day off!!