Mother's Day Cereal Protocol
So, today is Mother's Day. I am mother to 3 lovely daughters, Pippa-4, Pippy-7 and Pippen-10. My mother's day starts with a four year old (Pippa) first pouncing me awake and then syllogizing on the virtues of my getting up from my warm bed to get her a bowl of cereal.
Which, mind you, she will NOT eat. Believe me, I know from experience (i.e. months of picking up soggy abandoned bowls of cereal from the table). She will take 10 minutes choosing the type of cereal, which I must witness or the world will end. I think it is a 'Mama! Mama! Pay attention to me!' kind of thing. Then we decide on the milk. You may think that putting milk in cereal is an easy task, however, if you do (think this is an easy task), then clearly you don't know the workings of the mind of the four year old. First, she must decide if milk will be included at all. If not, then the cereal is fine and ready to go. However, if milk is to be included in the cereal then there is a whole new set of protocol. Who shall pour the milk, Pippa or Mama? If milk shall be poured, from what container, Milk Jug or Cup? If a cup, which color cup? Where shall the milk be poured, Kitchen Counter or Dining Table? Once prepared, if prepared in the kitchen who will carry said bowl to the table, Pippa or Mama? Oh! And don't forget the spoon. Is the red turtle spoon clean, Yes or No? If no, is there another red or blue spoon available? And so on and so forth...
Now this may seem ridiculous but for those veteran mothers out there this is something we navigate with ease. The questions are born out of years of conditioning and most mornings are effortless. Part of the dance of life that is raising children. However, again back to my beginning statement, it is Mother's Day and something in me thinks that on Mother's Day, just perhaps, I can be spared the sleepy, bleary, pre-coffee task of navigating the cereal.
As it were, despite the artful syllogism that were presented by the four year old, I did escape such a task. From my sleepy haze all I wanted was to go back to sleep and although communication with the other body warming my bed is slow (low brain function) not to mention that he sleeps...soundly...and I do not, eventually, the other parental unit did awaken and the Pippa was taken, tearfully (apparently Mama is an important part of her cereal protocol and substituting Papa is just not acceptable) away for the making of the cereal. I was treated with dozing in bed and only the occasional violent awakening from the 3 Pips (Pippy and Pippen couldn't be left out of the Mother's Day festivities) to give me kisses, hugs, hand written cards and coffee.
I did at one point in the morning find enough quiet to even pull enough brain cells together to imagine what a Mother's Day would have been like in the Weasley household (pre-hogwarts) with all 7 children home. Briefly, I entertain writing such a story (charmed by the idea of baby Ginerva and young Gred & Forge!) but then reality struck and once again I was pounced and hugged and the moment was gone.
Now, at mid-morning I have emerged from my confinement (to get up to early is sacrilegious) to find a Nutella faced, pajama clad, Pippa. Cereal protocol apparently went fine but, as I said, she doesn't eat it; she simply enjoys making it, stirring it and then abandoning it. Pippen is outside, the pasture has just been mown and she is in heaven exploring. 'Now I can find the snakes!' she says. (Don't worry they are of a harmless variety and as enthusiastic as she is about finding them, she is just as enthusiastic about NOT touching them!) Pippy too is still pajama clad despite the fact that she's spent most her morning out with the chickens (who spent their first night in their coop).
Soon, Papa will take them out of the house so I might enjoy a quiet house (although, I fear all I will do is spend the time in guilt induced malaise - the house is way to messy and I refuse to clean on Mother's day!) and will return with lunch and groceries (and probably the token flowers/chocolate). I am dearly in need of shower but I think I will hold off until the house is empty, thus granting me one of those luxuries that few mothers get, an uninterrupted shower!
Anyhow, this is Mother's Day to me. And in all the silly, often irritating, habits of my family (kids who repeatedly plead with me to come see whatever amazing thing they have produced as I type this, "pleeeeaassssse come nooooowwww mmmmaaaammmmaaaaa!" ), I love them all and wouldn't trade them for anything.
~Meladara
Which, mind you, she will NOT eat. Believe me, I know from experience (i.e. months of picking up soggy abandoned bowls of cereal from the table). She will take 10 minutes choosing the type of cereal, which I must witness or the world will end. I think it is a 'Mama! Mama! Pay attention to me!' kind of thing. Then we decide on the milk. You may think that putting milk in cereal is an easy task, however, if you do (think this is an easy task), then clearly you don't know the workings of the mind of the four year old. First, she must decide if milk will be included at all. If not, then the cereal is fine and ready to go. However, if milk is to be included in the cereal then there is a whole new set of protocol. Who shall pour the milk, Pippa or Mama? If milk shall be poured, from what container, Milk Jug or Cup? If a cup, which color cup? Where shall the milk be poured, Kitchen Counter or Dining Table? Once prepared, if prepared in the kitchen who will carry said bowl to the table, Pippa or Mama? Oh! And don't forget the spoon. Is the red turtle spoon clean, Yes or No? If no, is there another red or blue spoon available? And so on and so forth...
Now this may seem ridiculous but for those veteran mothers out there this is something we navigate with ease. The questions are born out of years of conditioning and most mornings are effortless. Part of the dance of life that is raising children. However, again back to my beginning statement, it is Mother's Day and something in me thinks that on Mother's Day, just perhaps, I can be spared the sleepy, bleary, pre-coffee task of navigating the cereal.
As it were, despite the artful syllogism that were presented by the four year old, I did escape such a task. From my sleepy haze all I wanted was to go back to sleep and although communication with the other body warming my bed is slow (low brain function) not to mention that he sleeps...soundly...and I do not, eventually, the other parental unit did awaken and the Pippa was taken, tearfully (apparently Mama is an important part of her cereal protocol and substituting Papa is just not acceptable) away for the making of the cereal. I was treated with dozing in bed and only the occasional violent awakening from the 3 Pips (Pippy and Pippen couldn't be left out of the Mother's Day festivities) to give me kisses, hugs, hand written cards and coffee.
I did at one point in the morning find enough quiet to even pull enough brain cells together to imagine what a Mother's Day would have been like in the Weasley household (pre-hogwarts) with all 7 children home. Briefly, I entertain writing such a story (charmed by the idea of baby Ginerva and young Gred & Forge!) but then reality struck and once again I was pounced and hugged and the moment was gone.
Now, at mid-morning I have emerged from my confinement (to get up to early is sacrilegious) to find a Nutella faced, pajama clad, Pippa. Cereal protocol apparently went fine but, as I said, she doesn't eat it; she simply enjoys making it, stirring it and then abandoning it. Pippen is outside, the pasture has just been mown and she is in heaven exploring. 'Now I can find the snakes!' she says. (Don't worry they are of a harmless variety and as enthusiastic as she is about finding them, she is just as enthusiastic about NOT touching them!) Pippy too is still pajama clad despite the fact that she's spent most her morning out with the chickens (who spent their first night in their coop).
Soon, Papa will take them out of the house so I might enjoy a quiet house (although, I fear all I will do is spend the time in guilt induced malaise - the house is way to messy and I refuse to clean on Mother's day!) and will return with lunch and groceries (and probably the token flowers/chocolate). I am dearly in need of shower but I think I will hold off until the house is empty, thus granting me one of those luxuries that few mothers get, an uninterrupted shower!
Anyhow, this is Mother's Day to me. And in all the silly, often irritating, habits of my family (kids who repeatedly plead with me to come see whatever amazing thing they have produced as I type this, "pleeeeaassssse come nooooowwww mmmmaaaammmmaaaaa!" ), I love them all and wouldn't trade them for anything.
~Meladara