Today Marilee slept until 9. I kid you not. So, while Adelle watched Barney, I slept until 8:45 – until Adelle came in and said, “Mommy, peez wake up! I want some bek-fuss!” And so I rolled myself out of bed and after we got Marilee fed, asked Adelle if she’d like to make some pumpkin waffles for breakfast.
Every once in a while I have a day where I don’t try to get things I done. I just let it be a day of playing with the kids and maybe making up the beds. The rest of the house suffers but at this point, there’s no helping our half-packed/fully chaotic home – so today is a sleep ’til 9, eat pumpkin waffles at 10:30, watch TV, work puzzles, shake rattles, play with tiny Bambi figurines, etc…kind of day.
Doesn’t that sound rose-y?
Here’s the truth: After we completed the waffles, Marilee started crying. In my rush to get Adelle’s waffle fixed so that I could put Marilee down for her nap, I smashed Adelle’s finger in the utensil drawer. I proceeded to let Adelle watch TV while she ate her sticky waffle at the coffee table so that I could rock Marilee in peace. In the midst of trying to get the TV on, Marilee spit up all over me and the floor. Adelle asked, “What happened,” over and over again until I asked HER not to ask any more questions. She didn’t like that idea and stood in front of me asking, “What happened,” while I tried to find her show AND not scream as loud as I could. Marilee sat in her swing and cried during all of this. Adelle proceeded to head butt me in my stomach because she was mad that I wouldn’t answer her. I sent her to her room, which made her really upset because she wanted to eat her pumpkin waaaaaffle!”
I know you’re probably all thinking, “Why didn’t you just tell her what happened? Choose your battles, Em.” I agree with you entirely except that she has to learn that she doesn’t always get to know the answer. I promise she asks one question every five minutes, and I usually answer them, but occasionally we just don’t get to know what we want to know. See what I’m saying?
After about two minutes of trying to rock a screaming, fighting Marilee to sleep, I gave up and put her in her swing. I fixed myself an egg to go with MY pumpkin waffle, and I asked Adelle not to talk to me anymore until her show was over because I needed some quiet time. She complied. Marilee is asleep. I am here telling you that we’re all just doing the best we can. I could have left out the spit up and the head butting shennanigans, but that wouldn’t be the truth. The triumph in this story is not that we made homemade pumpkin waffles as a glowing family. The triumph is that we all had breakfast and I didn’t yell at anyone. The triumph is that I’m going to get myself off of this computer and color with Adelle until Marilee wakes up. Then we’ll do it all again. The triumph is that the mere knowledge of this doesn’t send me running for the hills.
So cut yourself a break and look for the real triumphs today!