On Wednesday night, Erajh had an alumni event at his law school, which left me home with the girls by myself during the dreaded bedtime crunch. The two busiest hours of the day, and I was doing it alone. Things started out pretty crazy, but I was able to lure both girls into their seats and get them coloring before it got out of control. Thank goodness, coloring is their new favorite thing in the world…well, until Hazeline starts eating the crayons. She gets pretty pissed off when she discovers that the crayons are not a tasty snack.
Anyway, I made them dinner, got them served, and felt like Super Mom as I started to tidy up the kitchen and load up the dishwasher. But naturally, that couldn’t last for long, and Hazeline asked for seconds. I re-filled her bowl and decided to take a bite of the mac n’ cheese myself – right from the pot. I turned away from the kids so they wouldn’t see what I was doing, but despite my best efforts, Greenleigh saw me. “Mommy, you need to sit down. We sit down to eat.”
Oh, really? Since when?
Don’t get me wrong, for years I’ve chased Greenleigh around, insisting that she sit at the table. I’ve begged, pleaded, and bribed to get her to sit for the entire meal. I’ve resorted to timeouts when she won’t. It’s always a fight with her. Always. And yet, here she was imposing my rule. Against me.
It took everything I had not to point out that she’s the reason I no longer sit while eating. I mean, those sippy cups aren’t going to clean themselves (if you have tips on how to make that happen, please let me know). And every time I have tried to sit for a meal she almost instantaneously needs something – more to eat, a drink refill, dipping sauce, something. Anything. God forbid I get to sit and relax while eating. I wanted to tell her that before she entered this world, I always sat to eat. I wanted to tell her about all the blissful meals I ate prior to April 2009 in the sitting position. I so badly wanted to pull the mommy card and tell her that the rule didn’t apply to me. I birthed her and therefore, I’m exempt.
Yet, I did none of these things. Instead, I agreed, put the pot of mac n cheese down, and went back to loading the dishwasher.
All of this comes just days after she told me that I wasn’t allowed to say “I don’t care” when I was responding to Erajh’s question regarding where we were going to eat breakfast. Apparently, they can’t say it at school, so it’s now banned in my house. Along with a plethora of other words.
It’s like I’m living with a really annoying hall monitor. I suppose I need to be on my best behavior until this phase passes.
Besides, I need to keep that “I birthed you and therefore I’m exempt” card for later.
