Miracle of miracles, EVERYONE in my house napped at the same time today. Sadie (3 mos) is no longer projectile vomiting, but Emma(2) has been running a fever so we skipped ballet class for Aubrey(4). I decided I would give Emma the luxury of sleeping until she woke up. My kids inherited their horrendous morning time disposition from me. So I understand when they wake and are grouchy or crying because someone is looking at them. I get it. I feel that way every morning.
Aubrey wakes up screaming and crying, wallowing in the floor, just generally actin‘ a fool. Ah, I think, she needs food. She screams something about a peanut butter and jelly sandwich in the midst of her writhing fit. I am ON it. Even though I have a headache, am dying of thirst, not wearing any pants (I was jerked out of the bed by Emma and not allowed to dress) AND I realize that all I’ve eaten all day was half a chicken salad sandwich. (On the heel, gross.) But my baby is hungry and she wants a sandwich, and all that other stuff can wait. My headache, water, pants, motrin….it’ll all be there after I make a quick PB & J. I am a mother, a martyr, I will sacrifice for my children.
I make the sandwich, generous with the jelly and cut into squares. Just the way my baby likes it. And even though I know she’ll only eat half, I make her a whole sandwich because to do otherwise would insinuate that she is “a baby.” Done.
Me: Here baby, here’s your sandwich.
Aubrey: Thanks Momma.
Me: Can I have one bite?
Aubrey: (Totally aggravated and annoyed with me…) Make your OWN sandwich.
AS IF she had just worked so hard to make that sandwich herself. The nerve of that child. Whatever, I’ll eat the other half once it ends up on the floor. At least I swept yesterday, that should cut down on miscellaneous debris that will get stuck to it when she drops it in the floor. I am after all, a mother, a martyr…I can sacrifice for my children.