Stirring the pot

Okay, that title is misleading. It makes you think that I have something controversial to say, which I don't. Unless having a toddler that sleeps in on weekends is controversial. 'Cause guess what? I got that, suckas! After four weekends in a row, I think I can safely proclaim my parenting success to the world - my kid sleeps past 8 am practically every Saturday and Sunday! It is just as glorious as you might imagine. And thankfully I have relished every lazy moment because now I have most certainly jinxed myself.

The Peanut had quite a rough patch when he was an infant and now Chris accuses me of hoarding sleep. Like crazy ladies can never have too many cats, I can never have too many hours of sleep. I will take it whenever I can and will stockpile it. You know how your grandmother, the one that lived through the depression, has an entire freezer full of butter? That's like me. Except the freezer is my body and the butter is TEN HOURS OF SLEEP. I don't really need that much but you just. never. know.

In other parenting news, I was riding home on the Metro last week. Same as usual, except this time I'd forgotten both my book and my headphones so I had neither literature nor music to get in the way of some serious eavesdropping. At some point a couple get on, about my age but much hipper. In fact, the guy was entirely too hip for his own good, with a douchey little hat, expensive glasses and skinny jeans that did his PBR-induced (I assume) beer belly no favors. Their exchange went something like this:

Jerkhat: But you really have to read this article. There are a million reasons why you NEVER introduce television before the age of two. [Goes on to list multiple things about retarding social development and whatnot on his fingers]

Hip but Sensible Girl: What do you mean never? What if I have a bad day and I'm tired and I just need to keep him occupied for a few minutes? Sesame Street won't hurt.

Jerkhat: Sesame Street is the WORST. This study showed it. You gotta read the article. You just can't let him watch tv.

Girl: Well, then you'll never be able to leave me alone with him. Ever. Because at some point I'm going to turn the tv on.

After a bit more of this exchange, I figured out that the girl was newly pregnant with Jerkhat's offspring and I felt really badly for her. Not only because her Baby's Daddy wore skinny jeans in public but because his sanctimonious attitude made me, a mild-mannered stranger, want to punch him in his Elmo-hating face. And I didn't even know him. And I don't even like Elmo all that much. The Peanut doesn't watch a ton of tv and often chooses a PBS cooking or home improvement show over Curious George (we've moved from Jacques Pepin to This Old House). Everything in moderation, dude. Including that PBR.