Friday, August 30, 2013

It's My Prerogative

It's my prerogative.
I'll do what I want to do.
It's my prerogative.

Anyone remember this song from the 80/90's?? I don't know which decade it came out of because I wasn't aloud to listen to non-Christian music growing up and thus much of my "music experience" was mushed together into whatever tapes and records I could hide under my bed or listen to with headphones in. My older brother Daniel actually gave me a "Madonna tutorial" a few years ago after he heard me admit that I had never listened to the album Like a Prayer. My world was never rocked by Nirvana or Pearl Jam, I didn't get angry with Alanis or fall in love with Boys II Men. I tried to memorize all the lyrics to Ice Ice Baby last year because it seemed like the right thing to do for a child of the 80's. I gave up and content myself to smile proudly whenever the familiar electric guitar intro starts when my Ipod is set to shuffle...because Grant can't help himself and raps the entire song. One person in a household should definitely know how to shout out

Rollin' in my 5.0
With my rag-top down so my hair can blow


I learned just enough of the chorus or refrain of popular songs to be able to join in with my friends while we sat on the rock wall outside the school and talked about "life".

But this isn't about music or junior high days or even Bobby Brown, surprisingly.

It's about this day, August 30th and the brilliant ability of my 33 year old stay at home Mama self to exercise my prerogative. I woke up at 7a with a smaller bedfellow then usual- Grant had snuck out early to hit the gym before work and Pursy had stumbled in and was taking up more than a decent share of my pillow. Knox was in his crib hollering repetitively "Mama! Poop! Mama! Poop! Camel!". We took care of bodily functions then snuggled together and read a dinosaur book.

Usually at this point I take a fast shower while Knox flushes items from my bathroom drawer down the toilet and Pursy pretends our bathtub is a balance beam. I get them dressed and we all head downstairs for breakfast and coffee. I know from experience that if showering and putting clothes on does not happen before we go downstairs, we not only will not leave the house until the afternoon but pajamas will stay on until after lunch and naps. It has to happen before the first feet hit the first step.

But today Pursy and Knox were both wearing my favorite pajamas- shorts and t-shirt sets from Carters with ladybugs and monsters on the front. They were so snuggly and cute that I decided today would be a pajama day. We went defiantly downstairs without showers or getting dressed. We ate breakfast together on the floor picnic style, and I had a second cup of coffee.

Because the day started so early, by the time 11a rolled around we had:
1. Eaten breakfast and cleaned the kitchen
2. Picked ripe vegetables from the garden
3. Boiled and shocked some roma tomatoes and had them ready in a gallon baggie to stick in the freezer for sauce making
4. Mowed part of the lawn
5. Painted
6. Colored
7. Cut paper
8. Made pictures with Elmer's glue and rainbow bowtie pasta
9. Watched two episodes of Curious George
10. Played airplane
11. Vacuumed the dining room rug with the dustbuster (Knox)
12. Played Dinosaur Land
13. Read 14 books about dinosaurs
14. Pretended to have T-Rex babies running around the house
15. Played with a super ball
16. Cleaned up broken glass from playing with the super ball

All in our pajamas. Without leaving the house. Without formal activities, a schedule or a plan. We just played. It's my prerogative. I'll do what I want to do.

Next year at this time when I am taking Pursy to preschool and wondering how I went from being pregnant with her to packing her lunch, I will know that I may not have enjoyed every minute of being a stay at home Mama but we had days like this.

Thanks, Bobby Brown.





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