We woke up early this morning because the baby decided we should all be up at 6:30. Groggy and feeling limbless due to awkward sleeping positions I stumbled about and got the two girls shuffled downstairs for their breakfast. The baby's hunger is always easy to satisfy with pre-made porridge, milk and fruit and I have some hot grape-nuts with cinnamon. The trouble maker is the eldest. Every morning brings me closer to an aneurysm from the frustration of her indecision. Yesterday she asked for cocoa-pops; we don't have coco-pops, in fact we haven't had those for months.
"I'll make you toast." I say, taking the upper hand to prevent my frustration.
"No Mommy, I'll just have bread. Bread with butter."
"No. That is not a breakfast, I would be a bad mommy if I let you go off to school with only bread and butter in your tummy." I say, perhaps a bit too firmly. "I'll make you some toast."
"Okay, Mummy." She says equally firm.
I'm there, feeling like I won that battle when I think about what I'm doing. What is the difference between bread and butter, and buttered toast? None! Why does toasting the bread make it any more acceptable as a breakfast? I suddenly felt suckered, and not by her cleverness but by my stupidity. Worse, what am I teaching my daughter?
"I'm putting some peanut butter on it." I say quickly.
"Okay." Thank you God. I was expecting her to whine and moan about the protein addition, but she acquiesced. "But tomorrow I want a boiled egg."
"You got it babe." Isn't she a genius.
I was shocked that I was so prepared to dismiss her suggestion of bread and butter and be satisfied with buttered toast. Am I a bad Mom?
Certainly a bit insane.