Momma Bear's Den

Do you remember the board game from years ago called 'Don't Wake Daddy?' 

Where the object of the game was to sneak into the kitchen, steal a snack, and, in the process, not make a sound that would wake up daddy?

Now, mind you, I never had the chance to play this game as a child. My mother thought it would inspire us to actually try sneaking into the kitchen without permission (as if we needed a game to be inspired).

But I can vividly remember the commercial.

I can remember the excitement I felt when seeing it.  The jingle that played (and that I always sang along to), how I'd get so nervous for the kids who were making a break for that kitchen. I can even recall being mad at the little girl in the end who said "by Parker Brothers" too loudly.

Well, this week, I find myself being reminded of this game and I find that after all these years I finally get a chance to play it.

But in my grown up version, I'm not trying keep daddy from waking, I'm trying to keep baby from waking.

You see, recently its come to my attention that my 8 month old son will only sleep for long periods of time if his bedroom door is open.

WIIIIIIIIIIIIIDE OPEN.

_
I'm not sure why this is.....probably because I'm is Mommy and he knows it makes my life harder.

Whatever the reason, I can't shut the door at night without him waking up.

It could be open for hours and he'll sleep wonderfully but THE SECOND you close the door that pathetic, ear splitting wail can be heard across town.

So last night (this is where my connection to the 90s board game comes in), as I'm heading for bed I catch myself tiptoeing past my child's bedroom.

I'm not talking about just a quiet step down the hall here. I'm telling you, this walk looked like something straight from a cartoon.

Arched back, bent knees, hands out for balance....everything.

Every step was perfectly placed. Every sound earned a glare. And every coo from my beautiful children had me whipping my head around so fast I worried about whiplash.

All the while the jingle from that blasted commercial was on repeat in my head.

♪ ♫ "Shhhh....Don't. Wake. Baby."♫ ♪

I'm not sure when I started playing this challenging (and sometimes deadly) late night game.

But I do know that every night I get to experience the same emotions my childhood self did when watching a television advertisement for a board game.

Right down to the pride and the high five given when you've successfully made it past daddy without stepping on a thing.

And people say the there's no thrill in being a stay at home mom.

While I was going through the check-out line at my local grocery store this weekend, I just happened (Ok, ok. I troll those tabloids like I'm getting paid for it) to notice this...

Now, usually, I try not to get too upset by what these tabloids say. I may troll them but I know that the majority of what they contain is rumor and hog-wash. But for some reason this really bothered me.

In my own life and the lives of most of my friends I'm all for taking the easiest (cheapest) road when it comes to baby things. After all, even the cutest little outfit and blanket set is just going to get covered in poop and spit up on the first time you put it on anyway.

And honestly? I would probably have it completely redone for every stage my baby went through (baby, toddler, etc).

I take my hat off to both of them.

They are only doing what every other parent in the world would love to do; blow billions of dollars on their children.

Over the last week I have learned a valuable lesson...we would NEVER get back our security deposit if my husband were in charge of cleaning. 

I never knew how fast a man and 2 young cubs could trash a house. You think a Fraternity party can get ugly? Nah. Swing open the door to my den and you'd think for sure that we hibernated through a killer party.

*Que explosion sound effects*  

A good friend once referred to this "messy man syndrome" as a tornado. Well, my Papa bear is exactly that type of tornado, he leaves little pieces of himself everywhere in his path. And (always the great role model) he has proceeded in teaching my boys this same art of mess making...which they have already perfected.

I wonder what would happen if I staged a strike? I picture it being exactly like the movie "Moms on Strike". Just a lot more confusion and a few messy diapers thrown in.

However, I can't dis dear ol' Papa Bear completely. When he decides to step up, the man can step up! You should see my bathroom, WOO HOO! I walked in and could LITERALLY hear the Halleluiah Chorus. The smell of Pine Sol was never so lovely...

The point I'm trying to make is that if it weren't for constantly going along behind everyone's back and picking up (Usually the items that were just picked up 5 mins ago...), this place would look like the day after a great kegger....minus the booze and naked women.

It's all good though. In the depths of my closet are some markers and a piece of poster board. If my dishes don't get done tonight, this may not end well...