In a world filled with attention deficit and a severe commitment issues, it’s a wonder anyone can stay focused on or comitted to anything these days. Keep in mind this is coming from the girl who has to check her Facebook account while waiting the whopping 90 seconds for her laptop to boot-up. It’s a wonder I get anything done during the day considering my attention span seems to decrease as my age increases.
I should be pleased to report that my children don’t seem to have this attention problem. They must get that from their father. No, my kids are loyal and focused to a fault. Well, I’d call it a fault simply because as of late their commitment seems to be to things meant to drive me batshit crazy- namely, repetitive conversations.
I understand there is a certain amount of innate repetition that comes along with parenting. How many nights did we all spend reading “Goodnight Moon” to our little cherubs? The seemingly innocent orange-covered book with simple pictures and a rhyming scheme that could lull even the most unruly child to sleep- or her mother. I learned during my years of reading it over and over and over that those cute little bunnies on those cardboard pages were not nearly as innocent as they seemed upon first glance- or the 2,000th. Am I the only one who breaks out in a cold sweat any time she walks into a great green room? And why am I saying goodnight to clocks and socks? They weren’t in the room according to the first 5 stiff pages of my board book! When did they sneak in there?
And let’s not forget the torture that was “Goodnight, Gorilla.” Sure, he was cute and who doesn’t love a sneaky gorilla. But did the author really have to write a book WITHOUT ANY WORDS!? Obviously she knew this book was going to be read to kids the world ’round. Kids who want to have the exact same book, read the exact same way every single night. Give me something to work with, lady! Do you honestly think I remember what text I created the night before as I sat in the rocking chair with dinner remnants caked in my hair, dreaming of the minute my own little naughty gorilla would go off to sleep so I could have a freaking shower!? If it weren’t for the fact that bits and pieces of it were stuck to my shirt, I’d have no idea what I served for lunch 5 hours earlier, let alone what creative text I conjured up the night before! Help a mom out, would ya?
|Gorilla in the bed, animals on the floor and a distraught zoo keeper?
What the heck am I supposed to do with these characters?
A little direction or text would be helpful here!
But we endured. We did our job. We’re parents, that’s what we do. We read those books like no one had read them before. We played endless games of “Where’s Luke?” and named every animal and its corresponding sound for years on end. But it had to end, right? There had to be a point when parenthood was not a perpetual loop? Can I get an Amen!? Sadly, no. I can’t get an Amen. And the endless piles of laundry and dishes that wave and smile at me each day prove that parenthood is, in many ways, an endless loop- a perpetual Groundhog Day, at times.
Currently, I’m missing the repetitiveness of bunnies and naughty gorillas because I feel like the loop has taken on a new pattern in recent years. We are no longer repeating storybooks. No, we are repeating our lives. One conversation at a time. And so I give you…