Category Archives: Humor
Summer Lovin’, Havin’ Some Fun….or not.
Morning rising, usually by my 3 yr old (Scooby) climbing into bed with me, and insisting on watching Mickey Mouse Clubhouse. Mickey Mouse and the Neverland Pirates later, Jellybean is awake. Even without my hearing aid in, I can tell when she is up because she doesn’t know how to walk anywhere. It’s always a stomp, clunk, stomp, thunk, clack-clack-clack down the stairs, and a wham, my bedroom door is reopened. She will dive down beside me, bouncing both me and Scooby almost completely off the bed, and say “I’m hungry.”
Not “Good Morning.” Not “I love you.” Just “I’m hungry.”
She’s 11. I send her up to fix herself a bowl of cereal and get a few more minutes of peace and snuggles with Scooby before climbing out of bed. I can hear her stomping overhead, cabinets flying open and slamming closed, and I wonder how much milk actually makes it into the bowl with all the noise she makes. (She’s never spilled the milk. Knock on wood. It just sounds that way.) I hear her stomp to the table, the chair sliding across the floor. Two minutes later, I hear her stomping to the sink, a stop at the fridge, and more clack-clack-clack as she races down the stairs to the family room to watch tv.
I shuffle into the family room, her meds in hand, and she swallows them. First round, done. The morning has been easy so far. I shuffle back to my bedroom, turn on the computer, and run upstairs to make coffee. Screams break my still asleep reverie, and I race down the steps (and almost break my neck) only to find Jellybean on my bed, blocking the tv from Scooby’s view and wailing that he did a karate kick on her back. Scooby is gleefully engaged in challenging Tigger to a bounce-a-thon on my unsuspecting bed, so I know he probably did give her a karate kick and a good “hi-Yah! hi-Yah” behind a fist full of 3 yr old power too.
Jellybean is sent back to the family room, Scooby escorts me back to the kitchen. I’m treated to the soothing smell of fresh brewed coffee as I ascend the staircase. A half smile decorates my face, and I dance Scooby all the way into his booster seat and strap him in. Ahhh. Bliss once mo…no! no!!
Stomp, stomp, clack-clack-clack, thunk, stomp, stomp, slide, silence.
“Mom!” “Mommy!!” “Mom!” “Mooooooooooommmmy!!!!” and that’s when the fire alarm goes off. Shrill, ear shattering, and amplified in my aided ear 1000 times. My hand stings from the force of the counter that smacked it. My nostrils flare with fire, quickly quenched as my teeth draw blood from my lip. My chest swells, my eyelashes meet, and I slowly shrink and turn, my coffee cup barely filled with cream, let alone coffee.
“Stop teasing your brother! Stop screaming, Scooby!” Giggles from one side of the table, screeches from the other. “You will both go to your rooms and stay if you don’t stop.”
Silence. My feet spin on the floor and my hand grasps the packets of Splenda that had been carefully counted and laid to the side. Shwip! The packet is opened and more whiteness joins the powder at the bottom of the cup. Repeat. The cup is raised, pressed against the button of the coffeemaker. The dark amber liquid streams down.
“Mom!!” 1. 2. 3. “Mom!!!” “MOm!!!” “MOM!!!!!”
The cup is full. A little tremble causes a teeny bit of the amber liquid to sail over the side, but the cup is full.
“What?”
“I’m hungry.”
I glance wistfully at that full cup, sweetened just right, just there, right in front of me, but oh, so far out of my reach.
There’s A Pill for That…
Obviously I spend more time on Facebook than I thought considering this week’s post is inspired by yet another link I found on Facebook…
This one caught my eye more because I am diabetic than for any other reason.
Diabetes drug hope for rare disease. (Prater-Willi)
As I read over this article, one sentence caught my eye and made me think about my daughter and her never ending appetite, and how binge eating…
“Parents would be much happier for having to do less policeman’s work when it comes to food.”
Oh, yes, yes I would. Food is a never ending battle here as you know, and the more we battle, the more discoveries I make.
Then I wondered, if we could invent our own pills to help cure those things that bother us the most about our children’s conditions, what would we be inventing a pill for?
If I were a scientist, I would develop a pill to cure disrespect. Seriously. That is the #1 thing that bothers me the most. It is closely followed by sibling aggression, so I would mix in a little something for that too.
I’m okay with keeping the lock on the pantry. 
How about you?
XOXO
Dear Cappuccino,
Image via Wikipedia
Related Articles
- Life Before Kids: We Used to Be Like That Couple at the Movies (blogher.com)
- (Finally) Getting Some Sleep (parenting.blogs.nytimes.com)
Homework Helper?
So, I’m sitting at the table with DD9, helping her work on her homework. After zipping through her math assignments, it’s time for…dun dun dun…spelling words! What will it be? Three times each? Use each word in a sentence? Or, the dreaded, ABC order?? Nope, it’s a study day. So, as she waits patiently with pencil poised above a clean sheet a paper, I begin the monotonous task of reading each word out loud so that she can print it. I get to word number 5 and decide to have a little fun (insert devilish mommy laugh here). For your reference the word is: ‘what’ and the conversation went as follows:
