The Phases of the Moon

I understand that a child goes through phases, preferring one parent over another. Little Man is no exception. He changes loyalties with the phases of the moon. When it is time to switch from mommy to daddy, mommy appreciates the break and takes no offense (OK, at times I've cheered maybe a little too loudly). When the moon phases, he comes back to mommy just as the twinges of jealousy start to rear its ugly head.

Daddy phase began last week just in time for the weekend. This means I get to gently nudge my husband awake at 6:30 to go get Little Man while I roll over and go back to sleep. Hmm, maybe I should adjust part of that last sentence or someone will be calling bullshit on me.

This means I can elbow the shit out of my husband until he jumps up crying "what the fuck?" while shooting daggers out of his eyes at me. I smile sweetly. Let him know that his son wants him, roll over and go back to sleep.

Saturday morning I elbow my dear sweet husband and without question (but not without a few choice and maybe well-deserved words for me. Maybe) he goes and gets Little Man who proceeds to walk into our room and have a very loud conversation with me. Loud conversation and sleep do not go well together so I ask the little munchkin with the lungs of a T-Rex if he's hungry; would he like to go downstairs.

Yes, yes, yes! If he nodded any harder his head would have rolled off. I didn't have my bowling pins set up so I told him to go with Daddy who would be more than happy to get him breakfast.

You would have thought I dangled his breakfast just out of reach and refused to give it to him. T-Rex decided to imitate a banshee. Has the moon phased that quickly? Does he only want mama again? Again with the head nod. So I drag my tired ass out of bed, take him downstairs and get him breakfast. Once he is content in his chair shoveling food in faster than a starving squirrel, I proceed to the espresso machine where I start on my first of two double-shot espressos. I need to prepare for the mama only day in front of me.

I don't even get my second double-shot down my throat when Little Man decides he is done so down and off he goes. To Daddy. To Play.

The moon hasn't phased. My son has not swung back to his mommy-only phase. He has donned his Robes of Justice (hmm, future Supreme Court or League of Justice?) and decided to put mommy in her place. Daddy's job is to entertain him, play with him, and make him laugh until he hiccups. Mommy's job is to feed him, clean up after him, change him, and what ever non-playtime related task he can think of. Think you are going back to sleep? Well before you do - let me fill my diaper first - all mushy and disgusting and a PITA to clean up. OK, now can you get me some milk? Nah, I want Cheerios. Nah, I want....

I apologize to my darling husband. I will fore go the elbow to the ribs. I will drag my tired ass out of bed and have breakfast with my son.

Until I can find a spa retreat I can afford...