Aurora Magazine 2020

Aurora

when three won’t eat this and the others won’t eat that, what the hell am I supposed to make for dinner? I’m tired all the time. After a screaming parade of unintelligible whining about going to bed, Josh runs his fingers through my hair. My very own Smee looking after me. It isn’t long into my relaxing time and pampering and there is a knock at the door. “Mommy, I’m still hungry.”The same comical shiver goes up my spine. My eyes are different sizes and my mouth curves into a mad smile. “You weren’t hungry thirty minutes ago. You just don’t want to go to bed!”My son screams, “I’m going to starve to death!” A phrase I have explained a multitude of times is completely inaccurate, but one he firmly believes. The tears are rolling. He’s kicking the wall. The screaming echoes in our tiny house. Josh looks at the madness creeping into my face and assumes the Smee position. “I’ve got him. Come on, buddy, it’s bed time.” He picks him up and takes the screaming thing to bed calmly like none of it is happening. Again and again this happens. My voice gets louder and louder. I’m crying, too. Josh puts a hand on my shoulder and moves me to the side each time. He’s not nearly as stressed since he only got home from work about thirty minutes before. I, on the other hand, have been dealing with this irrational mentality at every turn: shower time, story time, dinner time, no-more-video-games time. People joke about parenting being one step from being locked up in a looney bin. That sounds really nice right about now. I get it. I understand why Captain Hook had such a grudge. Peter Pan is just the child’s view of a parent’s inner monologue. Captain Hook, my poor, over-stressed friend, I salute you.

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