Jake does not like breakfast proteins. You know, eggs, bacon, sausage... So lately I've been giving him a spoonful of peanut butter at breakfast to get a little protein in him at the beginning of the day.
Yesterday I asked Jake to put the peanut butter away for me. Now, remember, he's 4. I didn't think about the peanut butter at all until this morning at 6:30 while I was making his breakfast. I looked in the pantry...no peanut butter. I looked in the pantry again (I was tired, it's unorganized.)...still no peanut butter. I thought, "Hmm, maybe he thought the linen closet was the pantry." Nope, no peanut butter. I remembered hearing him open a cabinet. Nope, no peanut butter. I casually glanced into the trash can...maybe he thought I said throw away instead of put away? Hmm...nope. I gave up on the peanut butter, thinking I might find it someday along with this one ice cream bowl we've been missing...
I opened the refrigerator to find the peanut butter, right beside the orange juice. Of course.
I have a new favorite author, who seems to write columns mostly. Here she is. She wrote a column in this month's American Baby magazine called, "A Mother's Day Wish." I'm tempted to type the whole thing right here, but I don't have that much time and I don't think you'd appreciate it. But the article got me thinking about what I want for Mother's Day.
Mother's Day is important for different reasons at different times in a mommy's life. Pre-baby, it's exciting to get that first Mother's Day gift for the "Mother-To-Be." As a mother of older children, it's wonderful (I'd imagine) to get gifts from the adorable grandchildren AND the appreciation of your own children.
As the mother of small children; i.e., children who still live at home, Mother's Day is important because it's a day during which other people (namely, the husband and the kids. Ok, maybe just the husband.) spend some time focusing on just how much you do AND do that stuff for you.
I love, love, love my children. But I have those days (like yesterday) where I feel crazed. Why did I do this child-rearing thing? Did I think it would be fun?? As I go from wiping one baby bottom to wiping a preschooler bottom, I wonder just how far my college degree got me. While the baby is crying and the preKer is yelling, "You love her more than me," I have to wonder if Figi would be so bad at this time of year... Figi. Alone. Or maybe one of those resorts where children aren't allowed?
I have those days. And if you're a mother and say you don't have those days, stop reading my blog. You filthy liar.
But then...I also have those days (incidentally, this was also yesterday) in which I get to cuddle up with both kids in my bed while they giggle and hug each other and me. A rainy day in which my son and I take the portable DVD player to my room and watch a movie, just the two of us. A day in which my daughter falls asleep while nursing, and instead of putting her down to do something else, I sit and rest with her. A day when my husband says he loves me and he's amazed at what I do.
I love these days. Sometimes, I also hate these days. But I wouldn't give them up for all the freedom of Figi.
What do I want for Mother's Day? My perfect day: I want breakfast in bed, cooked by my husband and son (frozen waffles will be fine, just don't skimp on the coffee). I want my children cuddled in bed with me, so I can enjoy them just the way they are. I want some time in the evening to spend with my husband, maybe outside on our deck or inside watching a movie. I want to read the paper, somewhat uninterrupted. And I want to always remember this time in our lives.
I don't think it could get better than this.
Yesterday I asked Jake to put the peanut butter away for me. Now, remember, he's 4. I didn't think about the peanut butter at all until this morning at 6:30 while I was making his breakfast. I looked in the pantry...no peanut butter. I looked in the pantry again (I was tired, it's unorganized.)...still no peanut butter. I thought, "Hmm, maybe he thought the linen closet was the pantry." Nope, no peanut butter. I remembered hearing him open a cabinet. Nope, no peanut butter. I casually glanced into the trash can...maybe he thought I said throw away instead of put away? Hmm...nope. I gave up on the peanut butter, thinking I might find it someday along with this one ice cream bowl we've been missing...
I opened the refrigerator to find the peanut butter, right beside the orange juice. Of course.
I have a new favorite author, who seems to write columns mostly. Here she is. She wrote a column in this month's American Baby magazine called, "A Mother's Day Wish." I'm tempted to type the whole thing right here, but I don't have that much time and I don't think you'd appreciate it. But the article got me thinking about what I want for Mother's Day.
Mother's Day is important for different reasons at different times in a mommy's life. Pre-baby, it's exciting to get that first Mother's Day gift for the "Mother-To-Be." As a mother of older children, it's wonderful (I'd imagine) to get gifts from the adorable grandchildren AND the appreciation of your own children.
As the mother of small children; i.e., children who still live at home, Mother's Day is important because it's a day during which other people (namely, the husband and the kids. Ok, maybe just the husband.) spend some time focusing on just how much you do AND do that stuff for you.
I love, love, love my children. But I have those days (like yesterday) where I feel crazed. Why did I do this child-rearing thing? Did I think it would be fun?? As I go from wiping one baby bottom to wiping a preschooler bottom, I wonder just how far my college degree got me. While the baby is crying and the preKer is yelling, "You love her more than me," I have to wonder if Figi would be so bad at this time of year... Figi. Alone. Or maybe one of those resorts where children aren't allowed?
I have those days. And if you're a mother and say you don't have those days, stop reading my blog. You filthy liar.
But then...I also have those days (incidentally, this was also yesterday) in which I get to cuddle up with both kids in my bed while they giggle and hug each other and me. A rainy day in which my son and I take the portable DVD player to my room and watch a movie, just the two of us. A day in which my daughter falls asleep while nursing, and instead of putting her down to do something else, I sit and rest with her. A day when my husband says he loves me and he's amazed at what I do.
I love these days. Sometimes, I also hate these days. But I wouldn't give them up for all the freedom of Figi.
What do I want for Mother's Day? My perfect day: I want breakfast in bed, cooked by my husband and son (frozen waffles will be fine, just don't skimp on the coffee). I want my children cuddled in bed with me, so I can enjoy them just the way they are. I want some time in the evening to spend with my husband, maybe outside on our deck or inside watching a movie. I want to read the paper, somewhat uninterrupted. And I want to always remember this time in our lives.
I don't think it could get better than this.
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