"I am a policeman, dressed in blue. These are the things I like to do..." The chorus "It's my job! And I like it fine! No one has a better job than mine."
In the way kids songs do, this song has taken up temporarily permanent residence in my head. Yesterday's song was "Rabbit ain't got no tail at all, tail at all, tail at all! Rabbit ain't got no tail at all, just a powder puff." Sung to the tune of Mary had a little lamb. Classical music it ain't.
I would say today's song is an improvement on yesterday's.
The other day, I was talking to someone from an older generation, discussing changes in gender roles. I said "Some change is good!" referring to diaper changing daddies. And she said "No. It bothers me to see mothers handing off their babies to their husbands to go change a diaper." While I love her dearly, I high five all the diaper changing daddies of our generation. They are one of the best inventions I have ever met.
BUT, with Justin gone quite a bit, working out of town, I am without a diaper changing daddy. It is all my job. I have some pretty super sisters(in-law too!), cousins, and parents that give me a break here and there
BUT it is all my job. Not theirs.
The 3:15 AM consultation on burglar-in-our-house dreams that result in having four kids in bed with me. Which inevitably leads to me having just enough bed to sleep on, as long I do not wiggle.
The 3:30 AM poopy diaper. (She never poops at night... did I forget to change it last night? Does she have a rash? Is it diarrhea? Does she have a stomach bug?!?!)
The 3:45 AM laying awake in bed now thinking about stomach bugs/burglars in our house. Was that a footstep?!?!?!
The 4 Am laying awake still, due to no bed space, listening to Lily grind her teeth something fierce and wondering what on earth to do about that. (Any suggestions?)
The 6 AM sudden heart jumping bang in our bedroom. EEEK! Burglar! Or the book Gilbert had to take to bed with him falling to the floor....
The 6:01 AM Elsie fussing and needing to nurse.
The 6:15 AM giving up on sleep and blearily walking out into my messy, neglected house.
The 7 AM trying to decide if fussy, clinging Gilbert needs to be taken to the doctors for an ear infection or if I should just do pain management and let it take care of itself.
And that was just the past six hours.
Sometimes people say being a stay at home mother is the hardest job in the world. And while I agree that is the most unending job I know, and I sort of long for a different occupation while looking at the four loads of laundry that need to be done in my sleep deprived state, it has its perks.
Growing up babies
Scrabble games while holding a wiggling Elsie june-bug
Early morning babies
Kids that love each other
Grown up girl, writing letters to Pappa and Dawna, who she just "misses so much!" She spent time this morning looking for Gilbert's book that he was longing for. Which is impressive for Orianna. She is not a morning person.
All together, the sunshine, the babies, the nice warm house, the security, the love, oh the love! It is utter perfection. Or as our wise friend the policeman would say, "I like it fine."
No one has a better job than mine. Really.
A disclaimer. In case Justin thinks all this loving my job stuff means no more diapers for him to change, he has another think coming.
And just in case you are dying to hear the original of the policeman song, I just found a snippet of it on Amazon, here.
Rabbit ain't got no tail is here.