The Joys Of A Stay At Home Mom

So, it is true that God will not give us more than we can handle. But there is no real clarification in that verse.... does that mean without the aid of substances. My particular choice this morning was chocolate covered pretzels, pacifiers, and Advil.

Sam told me he wanted oatmeal for breakfast. So after the 20 minutes it took to fix, we all sit down. Happily at first, but once a bib is part of the equation all else starts to fall apart. First it is Sam's finger. Not quite sure what went wrong with his finger. I kiss it repeatedly but the sobs continue. I turn him around until he gets control. The offer of juice is a healthy motivator and he is able to join the table again. But it doesn't take long before that wears off and we are crying again. Why this time? Not sure. Maybe because he has spilled some of his juice on his shorts. So then a banana is offered. That is great at first, but I give it unpeeled (which was the way he wanted it yesterday... like a monkey). Well, this is a major crisis. Now, even though that banana can be peeled and re-offered it is somehow contaminated and is an unacceptable form of nourishment. It is refused again. He continues to sob. At this point I call a friend for moral support. She suggest Advil. I administer the medical advice in hopes (and fear that this is potentially only one of four) that it is teeth. We as mothers always blame things on teeth no matter the age really. I think I will say that until he is graduating High School, they are fussy... we see drool... it must be teeth. At this point my oldest informs me that he also needs medicine. "No you don't" I respond. To which he informs me he is also getting teeth.... um.... nope. So I offer a vitamin instead. This is a gummy goodness that often soothes problems. Sam gets one as well. This, as well as a cup full of medicine, stop the crying for a brief moment. The oldest is done and the youngest is back to crying. He is strapped in he'll be fine. I decide to email my husband so he can have a feel for the morning... in the background Sam starts screaming finger... finger... I ignore him because his original cry was for no real reason. I eventually turn to see there is oatmeal on his finger. The napkin AND rag he has in front of him are not good enough. At this point I'm done. I let him down, oatmeal untouched (other than by a finger evidently) and off he goes to his room to find his passy.... which should be up on a shelf only reserved for nap time. I head to the fridge to gorge myself on chocolate covered pretzels that I made two days ago. And in the midst of this I ask you... am I treating my children as souls or as animals who have desires that need to be kept at bay in order to keep my own sanity. I dismiss this question and eat some more chocolate as I prepare for departure for the park. At the park I'll have a run and they will be outside.... and we've talked about having another? WHAT?