Lazy Bones

I have a wonderful friend who has an adorable son just about Bubba's age and another almost 4 weeks. Today, we met up for the first time since the arrival of her new bundle of joy. And yes, I inhaled that new baby deliciousness. Oh yes, yes I did. (It's contagious, right? RIGHT?!) Mmmmm....new baby yumminess.

It was tarnished only by the lunatic at the swings next to us.
Lunatic might be a bit strong. But the other word (spelled with the following letters, in no particular order: B, I, T, H, and C) is not family friendly.

Let me back up.
Bubba and I met our friends (We met them "first", which is Bubba speak for "Mommy is not allowed to trick me into going to the mall or Target by promising me a trip to visit my buddy") at the park this morning. It was really a beautiful day. (No bugs. Which, these days, is my only requirement for a beautiful day.) Bubba and I were running late. Par for the course. The line at Dunkin Donuts is always unbelievably long. One must wonder: does everyone have a sleep adverse toddler at home?

Anyway.
As we pulled in, there was another mother and her twin daughters. I held the gate for them as they followed us in. Bubba had, naturally, waved at his "bud-dy" as he sprinted to the location furthest from my prying eyes and out of reach of my full-name calling yells to get him off the equipment from which he will instantly fall and break something. I sat and watched my friend's epically well behaved child eat his snack sweetly at the picnic table. (Note to self: discuss this with friend later. I think there's something wrong with her kid. Or mine. I think mine. I hear sweet and well behaved is the goal.) We chatted a bit, but eventually both kids had abandoned parental control and we decided it was best to find them. Long story (and yes, I have an amazing knack for making even the shortest stories long. I'm creative. And bored a lot.) short, we chased them around for a bit, but toddlers often like to do their own thing. Playing with mom isn't a lot of fun. Especially when she's such a buzz kill (Hey, Hey BUBBA! I said NO SCALING THE FENCE INTO THE PARKING LOT. and GET OFF THE BACKHOE. NO YOU CAN'T TURN IT ON. TURN IT OFF. TURN IT OFF. Ok, I'm going to count to three. GET OFF THE BACKHOE RIGHT THIS SECOND. Some of this is made up for effect. Not telling which part.).

But, like any good boy, eventually even mine wants to hang in a swing and have his doting momma push him. For 35 minutes. And so my story begins.

Bubba was in the Lazy Boy of all swings. A veritable recliner on ropes. I want one.
After noting that the kids in other swings (even the baby ones) had to hold on for dear life, I commented to him, "Hey, Bubs, you get to be lazy bones in this swing!"
Remember the mom from the beginning of my post? (Unlike most of my yammering, her presence here was not pointless.) She actually said the following, "You're the lazy bones."

I did a cartoon look around. Double checked. Looked around again. OMG, she was actually talking to me.

At first I was annoyed. Then I was angry. Then I was defensive.
I was defensive because I felt like she was probably right. I feel lazy. A lot. Right now, as I blog, there is a pile of clothes (yes, clean. Geeze. Judgey much?) waiting to be folded and the play room, in which my lazy bum sits, is overrun by Little People (I think they're actually The Littles and build stuff out of my trash in the middle of the night. Or at least I wish they would. I'm tired of taking it out.). So yes, it's easy to feel defensive.

But you know what?
I also woke up at 5:30. Did two loads of laundry. Unloaded the dishwasher. Made a lunch for the Husband Guy. Read 134 books. Fed and walked the 65 pound lab that adopted us. And posted 68 status updates on Facebook. All before breakfast.

Then, after taking my little dude to the park, I took him to a restaurant. (I know. I know. I took a toddler to a restaurant. I'm out of my mind.) Moved him from the car to his bed on the second story of our house. Posted 183 status updates. Discussed the 1/2 marathon I'm aiming to complete in T Minus 19 days. Napped. (Ok. You caught me. I'm lying. I didn't actually nap.)

Then I navigated 234 post-nap meltdowns, had a tickle war (I never win those.), read 294 more books, tormented (er, I mean, played with) the dog, went shopping (I KNOW!), and then race walked 5 miles. (No, I'm not lying. I really did.)

So we watched some Happy Feet during dinner. Let me point out, said dinner consisted of homemade chicken strips, diced cherries (which I pitted all by myself. Go me.), fresh corn cut off the cob, and a delicious cup of coconut milk. So I let him play with his trains quietly in his room until he fell asleep. So I'll have to get up early and fold laundry.

I'm so not a lazy bones.
So there.

(Just so you know, this post was going to contain a discussion of the latest activities we've engaged in, complete with pictures, but I can't find my camera. Again. Don't tell the husband guy. But, stay tuned. Once the camera is no longer AWOL, I will wow you will pictures. I know. You're excited. Try to sleep tonight anyway.)