Down with Seuss

Written by Amy, a mom without a blog

Please. Hear me out before you start your protest.

Let me start by painting a picture for you.

It’s 8pm. The kids still aren’t in bed. At the last minute you’re rushing around trying to make sure all the teeth get brushed, jammies are on, faces are moderately clean before you get your few moments of silence in the house and actually get to finish a full conversation with your hubby, relax on the sofa, or polish off the bottom of the chocolate moose tracks ice-cream you’ve been fantasizing about all day.

“One book,” you yell to your kids (because it’s late and you’re already over the whole nightly routine.)

And then it happens … your son brings you Fox in Socks by none other than the legendary, Dr. Seuss.

Are you FRICKIN’ kidding me?

In my opinion, this is a book born right out of the burning fires of hell. Its 61 pages of pure torture. That’s worth repeating … 6 – 1 pages of tongue twisters that make your mind and your mouth spin out of control spewing complete nonsense like …. "When a fox is in the bottle where the tweetle beetles battle with their paddles in a puddle on a noodle-eating poodle, THIS is what they call ... a tweetle beetle noodle poodle bottled paddled muddled duddled fuddled wuddled fox in socks, sir."

WTF?

I can hear you now. You’re saying “Ah come on. That’s not too bad. Think of the creative juices it’s stirring in your eager youngster.” Oh yeah lady, well try reading 61 effing pages of that night after night. I’ve got some creative juices stirring on the thousands of ways I can dispose of this book (although I don’t have time to go there now). And besides, isn't there some law against throwing a burning book into a burning building while shouting profanities that DON'T rhyme? Ahh, how liberating. I digress.

Yes, our beloved Dr. Seuss has produced some absolute masterpieces. Oh the Places You’ll Go is an all-time, heart-warming best-seller. Although in that fine work of art, he could have been kind enough to warn us we might GO to nonsensical, tongue twister hell.

I do think he may have gotten just a bit of twisted joy out of writing Fox in Socks and thinking about the millions of parents around the world struggling night after night with reaching the end of this epic, nerve-wracking, bedtime story.

Thanks Dr. Seuss. That’s just what I needed at the end of my very long, zong, cong, mong, waddy, laddy, saddy, traddy, silly, willy, trilly very LOOOOOOOONG day.

Oh, just you wait.

Don't you just love it when someone comes over and judges you in broad daylight and then pretends they're not really judging you?  Oh yeah, I love that. As if I don't have enough crap rolling around in my head and now I need to add a heap of veiled criticism to the pile.  

We have these friends, you see, who have a kid whose not quite old enough to be destroying their house yet.  You know, the age right before all hell breaks loose?  Our 16-month-old boy whom we refer to either as  "Bam Bam" or even more often "El Destructo" is definitely at the age where all hell is breaking loose at all times.  

So on a recent visit, said friend saw the massive amount of toys I have strewn all over my living room floor and said all self-righteous and sh#t, "Have you ever thought of keeping the toys in your kids' rooms?"  

Whaattttt?

What a brilliant friggin' idea.

I guess I'm dumber than I look. 

Thank. You. Kind. Friend.

For PISSING me OFF!!

But of course I stood all calm and yet astounded at the same time. 

And I quietly said through clenched teeth and forced smile, "Oh yes, we've tried that."

Oh yeah, I've TRIED that.  Just like I've tried to get in the shower before noon, put make-up on at least twice a week, not let six hundreds pounds of laundry pile up, keep groceries in my fridge, not yell at my kids, expand my dinner menu beyond pb & j's, and have a smile on my face when my man gets home from work!!

I've tried so hard at all of those things and I think the trying will never end.  

So yeah, dear friend, I've tried to keep those toys all organized and tucked into bins in my kids' rooms.  But as they say you gotta pick your battles and with the war that rages daily around this household, this is one battle I will admit I have lost.   

And dear friend, maybe when you have more than one kid who barely walks, maybe when you have three imaginative, lunatic children who move from toy to toy and place to place faster than you can say "I give up", then maybe, just maybe, you'll come over and see my living room that is an ocean of toys and instead of giving me the wisest friggin' idea I've ever heard, you'll simply nod your head in understanding and we'll sit on the deck and have a drink.