Who rules the roost ?

November 24, 2007 by Dad.

We are now at that stage where Cezanne gets to decide what we listen to when we drive in the car and when we eat breakfast, lunch and dinner…

Cezanne also gets to call the shots downstairs in the basement when we put on the TV, here is how it goes…

Daybreak, no need for an alarm anymore, we both wake to the very VERY loud calls of “Da, Dada” followed by a short pause, some chatter, another couple of even louder calls of “Da, Dada” and then a very violent “crib shake”. If we dare lie in for a few minutes the alarm escalates and the “Da, Dada” gets more frantic, eventually if all else fails it turns to “Mama !” When it does we know we are in trouble…

Breakfast is typically my responsibility so I stumble out of bed, feel my way in the dark to Cezanne’s room where she is already standing at the rail waiting to be airlifted into the new day. We change the diaper which is now typically just SUPER wet, this I have to say is so much better than the stinky morning poop gifts I had been unwrapping for the longest time.

We make our way downstairs to the kitchen and I place Cezanne in her chair ( read throne - ouch just realized the double meaning - not only is this a place where the one who rules sits, but it is also the place from which much food is, well, thrown ).

After securing her in the seat and before I get the bib on her she is already pointing at the radio/CD player next to her and yelling “Ba” - translation - “Why is my CD not playing ?” If I dare just turn on the radio in the hope that some good Christian radio will sooth the beast, I am scolded with another few “Ba” demands. So the CD starts to spin and we get ready for “The wheels on the bus…”, “She’ll be coming round the mountain…”, “This old man…” - are all 96 songs on this CD equally annoying and equally pointless ?

I then work on getting food into the child and the day evaporates before my eyes.

When next I look it is 5pm and Lanelle is yelling from the basement that I need to stop working and take my child. Take her where ? It is -37 outside and all I want to do now is have a beer and watch some TV. So I make my way down to the basement where I find them sitting on the sofa. Lanelle turns on the TV and immediately Cezanne yells, “Bob” or “Nod” - Bob the Builder or Noddy are the only options we have to choose from. Being that it is late in the day and that we just want to avoid a fight we typically cave and end up watching either Bob or Nod. On the odd occasion that either Lanelle or I are feeling up to the fight, we say “No” and put on a show we have saved - we sometimes actually get to watch about 5 minutes of the show before Cezanne manages to make life so difficult - standing in front of you, licking you in the face, talking and yelling so loud that you can’t hear your show - eventually we shut it all down, move upstairs and the evening feed begins.

Repeat of the morning feed, but this time Mommy is around and she makes it fun by singing along. I think she is so worn out by this stage that she is on the edge - I stay far away from her and try keep her away from sharp objects. Cezanne “eats” ( read - chews and throws, do not read - swallows ). Finally the weakest link in our family trio breaks and dinner is declared “all done”, quick clean up and then I wisk her off to bath…

Oh my what has become of our peaceful existence…

Honestly, I love it !

p.s. Ruth - when you wake in the night with the tunes to “shoofly don’t bother me” spinning around in your head, let us know… all I can say is : been there - doing that !

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