Morning
Every morning, EP and I go through the same routine before we can go to work.
630am. EP gets up to prepare the milk. She then wakes the beastie for his daily early-morning feed. The amount of fuss (and noise!) he makes at this point usually wakes me up. I wash up and change, while mummy continues her constant struggle against the raging beastie. Once I'm done changing, the icy stare from EP usually means I'd have to join in the battle, as she is fast losing out to the (by now) agitated and enraged little one. I grab a weapon of choice (usually an alarm clock, a remote control or any stuffed toy nearby) and jump into the thick of the struggle.
645am. Time is running out. Yet, the beastie refused to yield. He executes his power kicks and utters an unknown spell - his fingers aiming for the air-conditioning unit near the ceiling (well, sometimes he cast his spells at other objects too - like the fan, the lights, air-humidifier, etc.). We attempt to subdue him and break his spell-casting by activating an electronic gadget, which plays a loud jamming (and rather irritating, after hearing it for SOOO many times) music. It seemed to work, but only for a short while.
700am But now, we are both lying on the bed exhausted. We've only accomplished 2/3 of our mission. About 2 ounces of milk remained in the bottle, but we'd run out of time (and patience). The beastie, now fully awaken and looking stronger than ever, stands over us triumphantly and flashes his killer grin at us.
EP rolls her eyes and thrusts the bottle at me, saying "I don't care anymore. It's YOURS!". At the same time, the beastie also thrusts out his arms at me, saying,"eerrrr...errr...errrr.....". I usually give up feeding, and just give in to his demands (errrr...errr...errrr... usually means "I want to be carried!. NOOOWWW!"
710am The battle is finally over. Sometimes beastie finishes his milk, thought not without a fight. But most times, it ends with EP and I giving up and pouring away the unfinished milk. I pick up the little one and coax him to wear his shoes and carry his little haversack (nicknamed "Elmo" - because the Sesame Street character's face is imprinted on the bag face). After saying "mummy" & "bye bye", the little beastie happily trots off out of the house and my shouting after him.
730am We reach my In-law's place and he happily waves "papa" & "bye bye" to me, as he's being carried by my father-in-law.
After all that, I can finally begin my journey - to work.
ahhhhh......Blissful parenthood.
630am. EP gets up to prepare the milk. She then wakes the beastie for his daily early-morning feed. The amount of fuss (and noise!) he makes at this point usually wakes me up. I wash up and change, while mummy continues her constant struggle against the raging beastie. Once I'm done changing, the icy stare from EP usually means I'd have to join in the battle, as she is fast losing out to the (by now) agitated and enraged little one. I grab a weapon of choice (usually an alarm clock, a remote control or any stuffed toy nearby) and jump into the thick of the struggle.
645am. Time is running out. Yet, the beastie refused to yield. He executes his power kicks and utters an unknown spell - his fingers aiming for the air-conditioning unit near the ceiling (well, sometimes he cast his spells at other objects too - like the fan, the lights, air-humidifier, etc.). We attempt to subdue him and break his spell-casting by activating an electronic gadget, which plays a loud jamming (and rather irritating, after hearing it for SOOO many times) music. It seemed to work, but only for a short while.
700am But now, we are both lying on the bed exhausted. We've only accomplished 2/3 of our mission. About 2 ounces of milk remained in the bottle, but we'd run out of time (and patience). The beastie, now fully awaken and looking stronger than ever, stands over us triumphantly and flashes his killer grin at us.
EP rolls her eyes and thrusts the bottle at me, saying "I don't care anymore. It's YOURS!". At the same time, the beastie also thrusts out his arms at me, saying,"eerrrr...errr...errrr.....". I usually give up feeding, and just give in to his demands (errrr...errr...errrr... usually means "I want to be carried!. NOOOWWW!"
710am The battle is finally over. Sometimes beastie finishes his milk, thought not without a fight. But most times, it ends with EP and I giving up and pouring away the unfinished milk. I pick up the little one and coax him to wear his shoes and carry his little haversack (nicknamed "Elmo" - because the Sesame Street character's face is imprinted on the bag face). After saying "mummy" & "bye bye", the little beastie happily trots off out of the house and my shouting after him.
730am We reach my In-law's place and he happily waves "papa" & "bye bye" to me, as he's being carried by my father-in-law.
After all that, I can finally begin my journey - to work.
ahhhhh......Blissful parenthood.
posted by 北海道的大黑熊 at 9:48 PM
1 Comments:
surely we would have same routine soon. My mom is leaving and my boy would star day care soon. Given his eating habit, we have to give him breakfast at home. Phew! But, glad to know you guys are doing it everyday already! Pop by mostly to catch up! feel I can know more about your life here than lunch table :) sorry for missing some lunch as well.. Julia
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