As soon as he finds himself conscious, he lets out a little cry of indignation, then quickly sets about the work of kicking the bejeebus out of the wall next to his crib.
He goes through his repertoire:
"Mama"
"Da-DEE!"
"No"
"Mine"
"Ball"
"Obama '08"*
Meanwhile, in our bedroom, the P-Dawg and I feign sleep. Who will be first to give themselves away?
The J-dog throws Doggy, Monkey, and Blankie out of his crib.
"Buh-bye buh-bye buh-bye!"
Then starts crying, 'cause, frick! Toys are gone!
He kicks on his low-on-batteries-since 2005 Fisher-Price Aquarium.
Twinkle, twinkle little whaaa-wha-wha-wha-wha-whaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa.
After a few laps around the crib, he's ready to call in the troops.
MAMA!!!!! Da-DEEEEEEEEEE!!! BWAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!
In our bedroom, the power play continues. When it sounds as though the J-dog has taken up a sledgehammer and is mere inches away from bashing a hole clear through the wall, I say:
"J-Dog's calling you."
P-Dawg: "He said "Mama."
Me: "He said Da-DEE."
(Crickets)
Me: "I would go get him, but my eyes are glued shut. "
P-Dawg: "Ooof! My back is killing me."
Then the sound of the V-meister scrabbling at the doorknob before bustin' out of her bedroom in S.W.A.T. team fashion.
Little footsteps padding into the bathroom.
The sound of tinkling.
The sound of silence.
The sound of a roll of TP being unraveled in its entirety.
Then, "Maaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaamaaaaaaaaaaa! I POOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOPED!!!!"
And we're up.
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Saturday mornings ain't what they used to be.
But they're not half bad, either.
One day, when the decades have passed like a bullet train, I will surely yearn for cartoons and coffee on the couch among a jumble of limbs in assorted sizes, cozily intertwined.
And as the P-Dawg and I absently do the crossword over a breakfast of Sanka, oatmeal and prunes, the jangle of our stirring spoons will ring too loudly in a half-empty house.
We'll likely still rise early, unable to to linger in a lazy morning haze.
Because we'll know, as we suspect already, that time is not ours to waste.
*While the J-Dog is impressed with Barack Obama, he is as of yet an undecided and wholly ineligible voter.
*********************************************************************************
But, wait! I have bling to pass on.
The lovely and ubiquitous MamaGeek (the blogger formerly known as Works for Mom) thrilled me to pieces with the "Daily Dose Award," which I've since learned is like saying "Your blog is a drug I cannot live without."
(I like to think of my blog as a Sudafed. Small, pretty, sugar-coated, it can clear your sinuses and give you a wacky little buzz, but is relatively harmless when dosing instructions are properly followed.)
And so without further ado, I would like to pass the Daily Dose award on to Slouching Mom, who has it all - a healthy dose of introspection laced with a bit 'o humor, all wrapped up in gorgeous prose.
The next piece of bling, the Sassy Mama Blog Award, is from Jennifer at Faking It. I recently discovered Jennifer's blog and am really enjoying her beautifully articulated and often humorous insights into motherhood and life in general.
I would like to pass the Sass Award on to Amy at Milkbreath and Margaritas. Just look at her profile pic - "sass" is her middle name.
Slouching Mom recently gave me this:
I KNOW!!!
I am asked to pass it on to ten bloggers, and they are:
Melanie at BeanPaste
Jennifer at Faking It
Beck at Frog and Toad Are Still Friends
Jen at Get In the Car!
Loralee at Loralee's Looney Tunes
KC at Where's My Cape?
Melissa at Domestic Irritation (who hasn't posted since November, but I'm still hoping she'll return because her blog is, indeed, excellent.)
Painted Maypole
Ruth at Ruthless In the Suburbs
and
The Shotgun Investor
