HomeTHE LIGHT AT THE END OF THE DIAPER PAIL.
THE LIGHT AT THE END OF THE DIAPER PAIL.
A local author's life with two little ones and a book just out from Random House called, you guessed it, THE LIGHT AT THE END OF THE DIAPER PAIL.
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Do not disturb.
Late as usual. From Loca to just plain Lazy. Yoga Loca. Oh, to be four-and-a-half. 38. Only as far as your headlights. 6:43 a.m. For Reese, on her 13th birthday. Daddy's boy. April 08 May 08 June 08 July 08 August 08 September 08 October 08 November 08 Check out my personal blog at www.geralynbrodermurray.blogspot.com. 
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Do not disturb.
I'm on the phone with a good friend this evening, trying to fit a few minutes of catch up in between dinner, bath and bedtime, when I am spotted by my four-year old, the one who arrived on the planet equipped with a GPS radar on my whereabouts, not unlike her one year old brother.
I continue to talk while she too, continues to talk - to me. I ask for a few minutes to finish my conversation. No dice. Just a couple minutes, Reese. Go hang out with Dad and brother who are playing "Coo Coo" (an entirely amusing decidedly Murray version of Hide and Go Seek that is too complicated/embarrassing to go into here.) Not gonna happen. "Honey, I could really use some privacy." Reese, looking almost convinced, then righteous: "Then Mom, you should go in the bathroom." Yes, I should. In fact, should you call me in the future, please direct your calls to my private line. Make that my bathroom line. After all, if I can't go to the bathroom in peace, perhaps at least I can make a few phone calls. 2 comments from 2 users
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posted by
ThatTripletMom
on Sep 2, 2008 at 10:27 PM
I have been known to run into my bedroom and into the walk-in closet to make a phone call with no back ground noise. The clothing makes a great sound barrier. LOL!
posted by
creatress
on Sep 4, 2008 at 08:10 AM
That's funny! My husband told me that when he was that age and his mom was on the phone, you'd better stay out of "spoon whacking distance." Yup, if you bugged her, she'd grab a wooden spoon and give you a "do not disturb" smack. Oh what would Dr. Spock say to that! My sympathies. It never gets better I hate to tell you. Thank goodness for e-mail!
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