Breakfast Dishes

Breakfast is over, 3 bellies full and all are happily playing in the playroom.

Grammy begins the kitchen cleanup, so she can get started on the dressing and the hair: ponytails and braids: maybe a bow, maybe not.

Suddenly, there’s crying from the baby in the playroom. Grammy walks in; 3 pairs of eyes turn to her; one has tears streaming – 11-month-old Alexei.

“Why is Alexei crying?”

Silence.

So I ask again:

“Why is Alexei crying?”

From 3-year-old Lucy: “Cause Therese hit him.”

I turn to 2-year-old Therese.

“Did you hit him?”

“Yep.”

“Why did you hit him?”

“Cuz I want to.”

As Grammy walks Therese to time-out, she tries to explain that “cuz I want to” is NOT an acceptable reason for hitting someone.

Therese does not acknowledge the lesson; she’s preparing to sulk in her room.

Grammy walks back to the kitchen. Baby Alexei has moved on to the fake fruit and is busily chomping on it; Lucy is back working her puzzle.

Grammy can finally get the dishes done before the next onslaught.

“Grammy!” comes the stricken cry from the bedroom. Grammy walks back and opens the door. There is Therese, clutching her undies.

With a look of horror, she says, “I peed!”

Sigh.

Thank God for the carpet cleaner – which is kept stocked and ready to go for its daily pee, juice, mud – whatever – clean up. A mother’s best friend.

Although, this time carpet cleanup will have to go to the bottom of the list – we’re still just trying to finish breakfast dishes before it is lunch time…

Screaming breaks out in the playroom – someone is pulling someone else’s hair. Seems there is a dispute over fake food, and who is in charge of pouring the ‘tea’.

Perhaps we’ll get the breakfast dishes done by dinnertime.

But there is still hope for getting them done before lunch – after all, it’s not yet even 8:00 am, and Mommy is due back home after her appointment some time before noon. And so hope springs eternal in Grammy's heart - kind of like sibling fighting in the playroom...


God bless the stay-at-home moms out there: living patience, and teaching life - day after day after day... No parades for them, no trophies, no paycheck, no accolades - just well loved children; and well tended homes.
by Susan