Get on Your Ass

Sit down, Mommy!

That’s what he says all the time, my two-year old. He doesn’t mean it in the “stop and smell the roses” sense, he means it in the “sit down next to me RIGHT HERE MOMMY and read me this book / watch Bob the Builder again / tell me a story one more time” sense.

And I try, I really do. I usually say, “I will, honey, I will. As soon as I finish washing this dish / unloading the dryer / paying this bill / wiping the counter / checking my email / changing your brother’s diaper / finding your father’s cell phone…and so on.

But you know this, because you’re a mom. And you also know that you’re supposed to savor these moments when your children want you and need you, because later on, even if they do they won’t admit it. My secret fear is that my kids will grow up while my back is turned washing dishes.

So I’m telling all of us today – stop. Sit down. Sit down, Mommy. Take the time. It’s a cliché but you know what they say about clichés. LA is shallow. Men driving expensive sports cars have small penises. The more money you have, the more you need. Clichés are clichés because they are true. So here’s a cliché for you. It’s later than you think, and the harsh truth is….the laundry police won’t confiscate your hamper if you wait one more day.

Sit down, Mommy. You’ll be glad you did.