HAPPY APRIL FOOLS DAY

My daughter takes an exasperatingly long time to chew and swallow her food. It is f*cking nuts.

In fact, it's so annoying, I can almost feel a bitch-slap coming on whenever she's starting to sigh and I've been sitting with her for almost an hour and her mouth is not moving and you start to lose your voice and your mind from all the bargaining that I would let her have the videogame once she's done and the futile threatening of kicking her out of the house to get a job if she doesn't want to eat the food we provide her. You seriously start coming up with the dumbest sh*t to say when you're faced with that kind of moral dilemma. Now you might think me a bad mother for admitting that but I am just being unabashedly honest about it. (Though no, I've never done anything of the sort save for the occasional disciplinary slaps on her hand and yes, I still sit with her anyway sometimes even on the floor looking like a crazy person imploring madly to a 3-year old.)

But yeah.

Parenthood is HARD. It is FUCKING HARD. No thankfully, not ALL the time. But it is hard. I mean, it's not like there was an elective on parenting you could take up in college... though I swear, now that I think about it, they should've included it when I was studying Sociology of the Family.

I digress.

And I'm dealing. My husband is dealing. I mean... she's our first. And I guess that's why first children have it the hardest... because they get stuck with the newbies. The overzealous. The young-uns. The gropers-slash-play it by ear-ers. First children get the part in the parents lives where the parents make all the mistakes first before they can learn from them and apply them onto the second, third, fourth...

But then that's what makes these kids so special too. Because when they achieve something, they're the first. And the first time parents see it, it's absolutely fucking awesome.

So last night, Pao and I took Psyche to the STOKED Inc. 10-year anniversary party to watch Pao and the rest of his bandmates perform. She partied and danced and stayed up with us til we got home, me drunk and Pao hungry. By that time, I had gone on autopilot ---- got Psyche to her room, changed her clothes (I threw a spaghetti strap house shirt on her and didn't even bother to include any pants), and put her to bed in just a shirt and her underwear... after which, I ate and then passed out in a matter of seconds.

This morning I woke up and noticed that the light in Psyche's room was on (we leave the doors open since her room is just 5ft. away from our bedroom and she likes to sleep alone). Now I don't encourage anyone at our house leaving the light on when any of us are going to bed, so I got up to check on Psyche only to find her a.) sleeping with the bright ass light on (the same light I always keep off) b.) sleeping opposite the side I placed her (head where feet was, feet where head was) and c.) sleeping with a completely new set of house clothes (her spaghetti strap dress and new panties).

At first I thought Pao had changed her after I fell asleep.
Then I figured Psyche had peed on her bed (but she hadn't).
Then I figured she had climbed on top of one of her toy boxes and switched the light on herself because she was scared.
Then I began to look for her old clothes and couldn't find them... at first.
Then as I stroked her head, I felt one side of her head was sticky.

I couldn't make out how all of this happened so I woke Pao up and asked if he had changed her.

He said no.

He then found her clothes in the hamper. They were wet.

We checked her bed. The side where her head was supposed to be was a bit damp but didn't smell of pee.

We then began to wake her up to ask her if she had peed on the bed. She shook her sleepy head. We didn't believe her at first.

Then with her eyes still closed, she mumbled:

"I made suka."


...........................

And that's when we pieced it together:

She had thrown up on her herself in the middle of the night, probably from too much partying. Got up (in the dark). Climbed the box. Turned on the light. Took off her clothes. Walked outside to the mezzanine connecting our rooms. Threw her clothes in the hamper. Went back to her room. Opened the TOP drawer of her orocan shelf of clothes. Took out a dress and a panty. Dressed herself. And slept on the foot of her bed.

When I asked her why she didn't just wake us up, she replied, "I wanted to get the alcohol because beebeela is dirty."

She thought her teddy bear had gotten vomit on it.

I was absolutely humbled and proud of her at the same time. What an amazing, amazing child, I thought. Though Pao was kinda trying to demystify my life-altering moment by saying this probably isn't the first time she's done this before. But how the hell would I know that, right, it has been a while since Psyche was without a yaya and in our sole care... and sometimes I do feel guilty that the circumstances are the way they are... and I find I'm not as good and as patient as I should be. As I'm expected to be. As I expected myself to be.

I'm afraid to fuck up so I pretend not to care. But I do. So much.

But I guess...

The joke's on me.

Because today I got a first taste of Psyche's true independence. And I am so proud... in some sick, twisted, indirectly direct way (I mean, my parenting isn't exactly your orthodox model parenting but whatevs right), I contributed and cultivated that kind of independence in her --- the same independence I cultivated within myself and was always so proud of having achieved at such a young age.

I'm not fucking up after all. *pats back* And I have an awesome partner to prove that. Because knowing my smart and successful and super all around good guy husband, if he thought I was such a fuck-up or that I wouldn't be able to contribute anything more to this world than just mere physical existence, I don't think he'd have wanted to marry me. I'm lucky he saw my potential... to become a BIG O. But that's for another lovey-dovey time.

..................


Of course Psyche just had to be difficult come lunch and I realize how happy I am to be going to work and leaving her at my mother-in-law's house.

Aaaaaah.... the joys and woes of being a parent.


HAPPY APRIL FOOLS DAY!