The Butter-verse

I’ve asked M to write for my blog every once in a while. Ideally, he’ll do it once a week. When he writes, the posts will go up on Fridays.

Here you go.

This is Pop’s Perspective.

A long time ago my wife looked across the dinner table to me and blurted, “You should write something for my blog.”

“Yeah!” I exclaimed, “I’d love to.”

Since that time many moons have passed.

The small one affectionately called Little Bear is no longer sleeping most of the day, his big brother, Butter, is wearing big boy underwear, and Buster Keaton is no longer the hottest thing in Hollywood.

Yeah, it’s been a while.

Now, I have a promise to keep, but the last time I wrote anything the condensation from my beer bottle ruined the cocktail napkin. So, please excuse dangling participles, run on sentences and my complete, hardheaded, over achieving, use of commas.

Here goes…

My oldest son is the center of the universe.

Not mine or his mother’s; we’re too close to the truth to be fooled. But he is the center of a few others, including at least two of his four grandparents’ and of course his little brother’s. And, like any freshly anointed four-year-old, he is the blazing star which his entire reality gravitates toward and around.

It is his “Butter-verse.”

Every little boy wants to be him and every little girl wants to play doctor with him. Every childless adult wants to discuss art and the sciences with him. Every grandparent wants to add him to their already brimming collection. Cats and dogs form single file lines to receive a ceremonious ear scratch from my son. Shopping carts knock each other out of the way to be chosen so that he may ride their bows (with one foot dangling dangerously under rolling wheels).

And he likes it this way.  He loves attention, good and bad.  He even seems to want more.

As for the rest of his family?  We are mere accessories to compliment his existence.

I’m that old broken-in ball cap that he’d wear proudly to play with friends, comfortably to run a quick errand but never to meet up with someone he were trying to impress. My wife is the warm blanket to snuggle with on a cold night or lay on to watch a movie. His little brother, however, is that embarrassing car that goes from point A to B, but only owned because a better one is not in the budget.

This is how it is.

Last week there was a temporal shift in the “Butter-verse.” At dinner he asked politely for a glass of milk. As mommy poured the last of the gallon we had on hand he asked, “Is Little Bear going to drink milk, too?”

My wife explained to him that no, there was no more milk and Little Bear was getting water.

“Mommy,” said Butter, “maybe the Bear should get the milk. I’ll have water.”

Selfless pain-in-the-ass. no wonder we’ll do anything for him.


I was never dumb enough to assume parenting wasn’t an exhausting “job.”

I know there is a lot of work that goes in to being a parent. I realize that. I just didn’t realize being the mother of a preschooler and a toddler was going to be so exhausting.

This has been our week so far.

Monday, Butter started school. After LB and I went to pick him up, we all came home and had some quiet time. M got home shortly after 4 and we had dinner. Then we ran out to buy all the things! for Butter’s soccer team. [Cleats, socks, shin guards, shorts.] We got home after 8, and the boys were in bed before 9. I don’t remember what time I made it to bed, but it was probably later than I’d like. It usually is.

On Tuesday, I dropped Butter off at school, then came home to shower while LB hung out with Mickey for a few minutes. Pick up at 11:30, swimming at 12:15, to my in laws’ house 30 minutes away for lunch, home to clean sans kids for a few hours, back to in laws’ to have dinner and bring the kiddos home. LB was supposed to stay the night there, but plans changed. We’re flexible, so it was okay.

Wednesday, I had a workshop at 8:30, so M dropped Butter at school. I picked him up, then headed to the office to get a little work done. I was there about three hours and then had to rush to get the boys home in time to eat dinner so we could make 6 pm soccer practice.

Today, I had three interviews. I think they all went well, and I am hoping I have a big choice to make in the very near future. Fingers crossed, prayers said, all would be appreciated. This was on top of LB getting up last night and me being awake until 3 this morning. When the alarm went off at 6, I contemplated punching it. Then I remembered that my alarm is on my phone, and that would be bad.

Tomorrow, I feel like I get to breathe. Butter is off of school because of the holiday, and he’s headed out for the weekend to visit some family with Poppy. It’ll be just LB and me until M gets home from work. Saturday, my friend Rachel is coming in from Nashville. I’m so excited.

Even reading that schedule makes me [more] exhausted. I know it’s only just beginning, but how on earth am I going to survive roughly 16 more years of this?

[The answer is coffee.]

What do you to do to balance your time between work and your kids’ activities?

“I Won!”

(Butter is the one in the white t-shirt. Pardon the iPhone video quality.)
(Also, Noise with Dirt was recently listed on TopBabyBlogs. Scroll down a little & click on the pretty icon over there —-> if you want to vote for us.)