The Day I (Finally) Sat on my Toddler

Those of you who know me (and know my toddler) knew this day wasn't long in coming. To be honest, I'm surprised we've made it this far. But today it finally happened: I sat on my child. But at least let me explain.

Will and I have a system. It's a good system, especially for one who craves order and routines as much as I do. I wake up before Will, shower, dress, do my hair and make my bed. Then, when Will wakes up around 7 and after he plays in his crib for half an hour with the toys and books I bring in to him, we head downstairs for breakfast. We usually eat a breakfast of oatmeal, toast and fruit and then Will gets to have a "show" (usually Curious George on PBS at 8:00) while I finish cleaning up and getting ready to head out the door. I then dress him while he is watching his show, which is key because getting this child dressed is no simple task. But while he is in the TV-zombie zone, changing his diaper and getting him dressed is no big deal (as long as I don't get in the way of the television). Then we take off for a morning activity and come home around 11:30 for lunch and a nap. It's not a perfect process, but it works for us.

Well, today was a little different b/c it was a Monday and on Mondays I wake up early, start the laundry, clean the bathrooms, mop, vacuum, dust, etc., etc. And most Monday mornings I just let Will run around in his jammies and do basically whatever he wants so that I can get the house cleaned for the week. On this particular Monday, though, I was supposed to help an elderly lady clean and organize her newly moved-into apartment at 10:30. My neighbor had kindly agreed to watch Will while I did this task. So at around 10:00, I realized it was time to get the kid ready to go. And this is where it all went wrong. I should have listened to my gut and turned on the television to get the task quickly and efficiently accomplished. But no, I bravely dared the task sans television. I got him undressed when he slipped out of my grasp. He ran around his room, behind the rocking chair, then under the crib, then shut himself up in the closet all within 3 seconds. I chased him, but to no avail. Finally, I caught him and lay him down to attempt to diaper him. But he literally is stronger than me. He squirmed away and off he went again. Discouraged and now running late, I grabbed him again. I tried to hold his feet down, while once again attempting to diaper him. But again I failed. Off he went. This process went on for another few minutes until I was REALLY running late. Finally, at my wit's end, the next time I caught him, I sat on him. What would you do? He squirmed and wiggled and screamed but there was no way he was getting away again. Not with the weight of me on top of him. So off I went to my neighbor's, with a fully clothed child. And then off I went to help a lady in need, a lady who WASN'T EVEN THERE. And then off I went to rescue my neighbor from my child, a child who had thrown up all over my neighbor's home, a child who had taken half an hour and one sitting incident to get dressed. And all for what? For naught. So the day I finally sat on my child, it was all in vain. I guess I learned my lesson: trust your gut and turn on that PBS (or at least wait for the perfect occasion when it would be appropriate and justified to sit upon one's child).

Please tell me that you've succumbed once or twice and sat upon your child. Please tell me that mine is NOT the worst child to get dressed in the mornings. Basically, please tell me that I am not failing as a mother since my logical and seemingly only option was to, in fact, sit upon my child.