If I Hear Mommy One More Time…

I adore being a mother. It is the one thing in my life that I have always wanted and the one thing that provides me the most satisfaction. It is hard in a way that nothing else is hard. Seemingly easy tasks become battles of physical and mental exertion. Having content babies sleeping soundly after a day with nutritious food, developmentally appropriate play and even outside time is the real definition of winning. Charlie Sheen needs to get with the program.

However, there are days… You know the kind of days I mean. Nothing goes right. Everything you do is wrong and forget making anyone smile. If you read a story it is the wrong book. Which one is the right book? They either can’t tell you or you can’t find it. Food is another story. Sometimes it isn’t that you can’t do it right and more that they just don’t seem to appreciate it.

Today, H stated, “Mommy need ench toast.” For those of you not fluent in H speak, he said Mommy I need french toast.” In our house these days everything is need not want. I asked him to “ask nicely,” and he replied, “nicely.” Come on you have to laugh. His manners are very good for a toddler, but the whole idea of asking nicely for something hasn’t quite taken hold yet.

Since I had the time today I made him french toast. He was excited. He wanted it immediately. He proceeded to yell at me as if I was a short order cook. “Mommy ench toast, ench toast.” I calmly explained how we have to cook our food and showed him the steps to make french toast. Once the toast was ready and even sprinkled with a tiny amount of brown sugar I placed it on his plate. He grinned and said, “Ank You!” It melted my heart. He ate about half of the toast and then the rest of my homemade, whole grain french toast ended up on the floor as a feast for the dogs. Awesome…

My demanding two year old continued his dictator tirades the rest of the day, interrupting Baby C2s feedings and even dumping a cup of water over in a store. I was tired. Somehow he knew I was weak. They can always smell it. Weakness to a toddler must be like blood in the water for a shark. At one point screaming “Mommy, no,” and “Mommy, not yet,” became a game.

I honestly felt like if I heard the name Mommy one more time I was going to gauge my own eyes out.

Andy, my hubby, is a little under the weather today and going it alone is not easy. As I was juggling both the kiddos for bath and bed, H says “Mommy, I need hold you.” Whenever he says that my heart melts. He followed it up with, “Mommy, rock.” That sweet baby voice. I am a sucker. It is worth every tirade, every unfinished piece of french toast and every purposely spilled bottle of water. As I rocked him he said for the first time, “Mommy, sing.” We usually sing lullabies, but he has never asked for one before.

“Of course baby, of course I will sing you a song. I love you,” I said.

He snuggled in and I sang. I might end up singing for the rest of his childhood, like Alexis, but it is more than worth it. After all I am Mommy.

Wishing you lots of toddler tirades and snuggles,




Image credit: banner – bluftontoday.com


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