A question to which I generally respond, in typical parent fashion, "spare time? What's that?"
My "spare time" generally consists of short moments where Jules is distracted with Blues Clues, his art easel, or something else. In those quick 2 or 3 minute spurts of "spare time" I'll read a paragraph of something, post something on Facebook so I feel like a part of the world, or maybe type the first 3 sentences for a blog/writing idea. That is, if I don't have some household chore to go and take care of first.
Typically those household chores relate to the center of my universe. And what, you ask (my dear, imaginary friend), is the center of my universe? Is it my lovely wife whom I've turned into an expert on being pregnant over the past 3 years (you're welcome honey)? No, it is not.
What about my son, the boy-who-hates-sleep? Do I spend my spare time plotting against the bane of my existence, which is in fact his sleep schedule? Do I use my finely tuned brain to create skillful calculations and algorithms to determine how to fix this sleepless situation? If we get him up a 'x' time he'll surely be tired by 'n' at which point he ought to nap for 'a' hours and then be ready for sleep by 'b'
-- You see, once upon a time, my son slept a whole night in his crib (more than one actually) but then he got a little sick. He then had a nice long series of colds and what-nots that kept him from sleeping well. It just so happened that these illnesses occurred at the exact same time his sleep habits were forming. Now, he has ALWAYS fought sleep, and more so than any other child on earth (I'll stand by that statement) but after the sicklies, he ONLY falls asleep on Daddy's shoulder. if you "awwwwwww", I'll slap you. Think of the reality of this situation as I sit here typing, wondering if I should sell myself to IKEA as the prototype for a toddler bed...out of context, that joke could be very pedophile-ish.. not good.
BUT no, that is not the center of my universe, nor is my son in general, sadly.
No, my world revolves around one thing. One horrible, stinky thing: poop.
Poop is the center of my universe. Has been for years.
Started out when I worked at a group home for the mentally challenged/disturbed. You can imagine what my poop dealings were like there...on second thought, you probably can't. *shudder*
I left that job to put up with middle schooler's shit, and their parents shit, and the Education System's shit, etc. etc.
Then came the baby poo and my family's shit.
Then there's this group: shit to do around the house, 8 cats in my house that mostly use the litter box, and a puppy being housebroken ( who managed to somehow pop off, and chew up, the 'down arrow' on my netbook -- not sure if I'm bitching or bragging on that one. This all counts as my wife's shit. However, in exchange for 3 nights of not having to take an extra 5 minutes in the shower *wink wink* over the past 3 years, these are my responsibility because pregnant women aren't supposed to handle certain shit. Considering the disappointment she had to put up with on those 3 particular nights, and the whole 'creating life' thing, I figure its a fair enough trade.
So yeah, my life, shit; you get the point. But that isn't to say that I'm unhappy, or don't give a shit (couldn't resist), that is very much the opposite of my situation, but in regard to free time, well, I've got shit to do. (okay, that one was on purpose)
I do like talking about zombies though...maybe next post.........what the fuck kinda zombies do you talk about on a DB blog? eek!
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