I tried to explain it as I was sprinting across the playground for the billionth time (approximately) this morning . . .
|an object set in motion stays in motion - until I force it to nap, that is (mildly relevant sidebar: I swear that collar popped itself up - have I somehow spawned a child even preppier than me?)|
It's the Momversation. You know those half conversations you sorta have with adults as you simultaneously attempt to have grown-up chat and keep your - ok, my - adventurous little child alive? I figure for every one toddler class or playground outing Master P and I attend, it takes at least two more outings with the same adult to actually finish whatever line of thought we were discussing.
Sometimes the Momversation continues during the blessed nap hour - assuming said nap happens - via email or Facebook chat, though many of us who stay at home need that time to run around the house cleaning and attending to other such unpleasantness (which is of course code for "taking a breather already sweetbejeesus").
It isn't that I want to be one of those interfering American "helicopter" parents. I'm still trying to give the wee CEO some "Bebe" space to explore while we're out, within the bounds of safety and courtesy to other people. Thing is, I have these dueling needs both to speak with other adults and to keep my child, um, living. A tricky balancing act, that one.
I hope this doesn't sound like a gripe - rather, it's just one of the many bits of This New Normal to which I'm slowly adjusting. If I can't return your phone call right away, or if it takes us three visits to have a coherent conversation, please bear with me & the Momversation. I like our relationship and my child both - let's keep both amongst the living, shall we?
Can I get a Smug Mummy amen? Failing that, want to watch my wiggly wildebeast for five minutes while I finish that conversation I started four days ago?