Why is there no time that is sacred to a mother? There is no such thing as "personal time" or "alone time" (except for those moments when I go to the store without the kids, making my husband a very unhappy man.) When at home, the mom seems to be the go-to person for tattling, asking the location of items ranging from toilet paper to the belt that he swore he left on the dryer, to that pink shirt that she got two years ago, you know the one...the one she wears on Tuesdays? Oh...and the favorite Dora sippy cup. Why does Dad never have to know these things? Or help to locate them?
And why is it that I cannot even go to the bathroom and be alone for five minutes? Within seconds, the toddler is banging on the door, wanting to come in and "help." Or have a deep conversation on why my butt is bigger than her's. Or I have preteens knocking on the door, tattling on each other...or asking for the location of various items (see above.) My husband, on the other hand, can take his laptop into the bathroom and sit peacefully for a half hour.
My husband has the option of a variety of breakfast foods, limited only by the time he decides to crawl out of bed in the morning. Even then, there are the drive-thru options at McDonald's on his way to work. My breakfast consists of a variation of leftover Gerber Puffs...a taste of baby oatmeal (to make sure it's not too hot for the babies,) left over Toaster Strudel crusts from the toddler (wouldn't want it to go to waste)...and some reheated coffee that sat out because I had to take care of some random incident concerning a toddler that wanted to be a little too helpful with the babies. Who would have ever thought I would be jealous of someone having McDonald's food?
Well, while the toddler is decorating her Toaster Strudel, I am going to go reheat my cup of coffee...and maybe call my mom. Maybe we can go visit her today...and I can get some "alone time" in her bathroom....see...even as a grandmother, your kids will still rely on you for silly things. I wonder if she knows where my fat pants are?
I have extreme envy toward anyone who gets McDonald's breakfast! I am slightly embarrassed to admit this, but when I was pg with Benjamin (and working outside of the home...meaning I had both money and lots of "me" time), I had an Egg McMuffin and orange juice every weekday morning. And on Friday's, I treated myself to an additional cinnamin roll. Oh, those were the days! : )
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