Wednesday, December 5, 2012

A Day In The Life

As I sat down to my morning bowl of breakfast skillet (it's delicious, yo), I had a sudden realization.  I would really like to enjoy my food without someone right up in my face.

For the past 6+ years I have had little people hanging off me all day, every day.  For those of you who don't have kids, imagine your boss coming home with you at the end of the day and continuing to demand things.  Oh, and you no longer get weekends.  Oh, and sometimes he cries in the night and crawls in bed with you.  I don't get breaks.  Like, ever.

My lunch hour consists of making meals for my two sons (I've already made my daughter's lunch that morning to send to school with her) who complain and cry over whatever it is I'm cooking, even if they ask for it.  Then they usually don't finish it (the 4 year old) or throw it on the floor (the 1 year old).  They refuse to eat anything I might find appetizing, so I have to make at least two different meals, although more often it's a different thing for each person. 

So anyway, I quickly make myself a meal and then right about then the boys finish up and want to go play, so I put my food down and clean them up and clear their plates while my food gets cold.  Then I yell "GO PLAY!" and procede to stuff my face as fast as possible because they can't be unsupervised for more than a few minutes before all hell breaks loose.  But I need not have worried, because they have seen my food and aren't going anywhere. 

"Bite?  Bite??" Despite being so full they couldn't even finish their food, they are suddenly ravenous for what they considered "icky" five minutes ago when I offered to make some for everyone.  "Bite?  BITE!!!" They are now sitting on my lap or jumping up and down next to me, demanding at least every other bite of my meal.  "BIIIIIIITE!" If I don't give in, a full tantrum will ensue and I just want to enjoy my damn food. "Mama, BITE!" I've now forgotten that this was MY meal and I'm enjoying feeding the "baby birds" the rest of my lunch.


Many of you are moms and are sitting here reading this thinking, "yeah?  So?  Quit complaining, that's what happens when you're a mom!"  This story wasn't for you.  I KNOW you know this scenario.  It was for the child-free people out there who may not understand.  Just creating a visual.  You may also be thinking, "well bitch, you wanted kids!  Deal with it!"  Don't get me wrong, I love being a mom and I love my kids.  But until you become a parent, you really have no concept of how much work it is.  It's the same as any job- you can read the job description, but until you've been working there for a while you can't be 100% sure what it's going to be like.  I am allowed to not like certain aspects of parenting (hello poopy diapers!) just like the person in retail doesn't enjoy dealing with mean customers or the IT guy doesn't like dealing with morons who don't know how to turn it off and then back on again.

Unfortunately, there are tons of other activities I can no longer do now that I have kids.  Some of them are obvious (no more sleeping in or swearing like a sailor), but some aren't.  Like going to the bathroom.  "You can't go to the bathroom??"  Of COURSE I can still go to the bathroom.  As long as I take less than 10 seconds and don't mind someone trying to peek in the crack between the seat and the bowl to see where the noise is coming from.  Forget taking a shit.  That's how houses get set on fire and CPS is called.

I didn't take this, but I feel for whoever did

We also have this great living room with a fireplace.  How awesome would it be to lay down a fake bearskin rug and drink champagne and eat strawberries and make love all night?  NOPE.  Not gonna happen.  Because chances are I'll roll over onto a Lego or my kids will stagger out of their bedroom to go potty and be scarred for life. 

Look at this gorgeous thing, looking all romantical-like!

I could go on, but I'll save you the rant and finish with this- the next time you take a bite of food, slow down to enjoy it for all the mothers out there.  I haven't tasted food in 6 years, let me know how it is.  Also, call your mom and thank her for putting up with you.  You were most likely a pain in the ass.