To be nobody-but-yourself -- in a world which is doing its best, night and day, to make you everybody else -- means to fight the hardest battle which any human being can fight; and never stop fighting. ~ e. e. cummings
Wednesday, February 25, 2009
Hand me my trophy, please...
I am so ready for my trophy today. Mmm-hmm. Hand it over, will ya?
Why today, you ask? By which, of course, you mean today specifically, more than any other day, since I *always* deserve such accolades? I'll tell you:
Because today, the 101st day of full-day, eating-lunch-at-school school for Kiddo, I forgot to make her a lunch.
For the 100 days prior to this morning, I have gotten up, gotten Kiddo up, fixed her breakfast and then, while she sits at the table eating/picking at/staring at/utterly ignoring her meal (depends on the day), I fix her lunch and get her backpack packed with everything she needs (sneakers, notebook, folder, homework, snowpants, library book etc). Then, when that's done, I head upstairs to squirt some toothpaste on her Lion King musical toothbrush and get her clothes laid out and *then* I sit down at the computer for a few minutes and go through my morning internet routine (email, news headlines, People and E! headlines, blog reader list).
This morning? I got up, got Kiddo up, fixed her breakfast and............... got totally distracted by how I was constantly tripping over things that should have been in the laundry room but instead were everywhere in my kitchen. The counters, the floor, the stovetop, the table. Hubby finished painting the laundry room trim late last night and reassembled all the shelving in there, so instead of fixing her lunch, I decided that first, I'd put everything back into the laundry room. So I did, marveling at how nice and tidy it looks, with its fresh coat of Tear Drop Blue paint (we didn't have enough Soft Ecru, so we wound up killing off the leftover bit of the gallon we used for the downstairs bathroom, which is right next to the laundry room anyhow). I got a wee bit carried away by the beauty and wonder, and thus, when I finally emerged from the laundry room, I looked at the clock on the stove (which I could actually see again, now that it had been cleared of laundry room things) and thought to myself "Crap! Must get toothpaste on the toothbrush, stat!" and off I went upstairs. Kiddo came up a few moments later and we went about the rest of our routine ("I didn't hear Hakuna Matata play TWICE, Kiddo... Brush again!" "Moooo-oooom, I *did* brush two times already!" "No, you didn't, brush again NOW please!" ... "Why aren't you dressed yet?" "Mooo-oooom, I'm thinking!" "Well, could you please multitask and think while dressing?" ... "Stand still so I can comb your hair, please." "Mooo-oooom, I don't like it when you comb my hair." "You know, Bindi always stands still when her mom combs her hair, that's why it looks so nice on TV...") and it wasn't until 8:02, after the locating and proper placement of boots on feet, mittens on hands, coat on bod and hat on head that I reached down for Kiddo's backpack and realized that I hadn't made her a lunch.
Crap.
"Moooo-oooom, we don't say that word - it isn't nice or appropriate!"
Whoops, I thought I just thought it. Thank goodness "crap" was the only word I thought. I actually did swear aloud in Kiddo's presence the other day, but fortunately it was only the S word and it was under my breath after dripping paint on the stairs, and she was so enthralled by Happy Feet that she didn't hear me anyhow. I made it five and three quarter years before actually swearing in front of her - not too bad. But that was Sunday's award-winning moment, so I'm digressing.
Anyhow, I looked at the stovetop clock - 8:03. We need to be at the corner in three minutes. I briefly ponder how quickly I can throw some stuff into her lunch bag and as I'm standing there, empty lunch bag in hand, thinking "crap, crap, crappity crap" on the inside only this time, Kiddo figures out the situation and her face lights up.
"Mommmmmmmmm? It's okay, I am not sad that you didn't make me a lunch. We all make mistakes, don't worry. Accidents happen.
....
I can just be a buyer today, okay?"
One pair of very hopeful, big brown eyes looking up at me, breath held.
A-ha! (No, not aha, though I do love me some aha. Especially Magne. Sigh........ Whoops, digressing again.) A-ha! I can totally spin this, can't I?
"Hmmm, well, I don't know, Kiddo. It is a pretty big treat to buy your lunch........."
"Oh pleaseohpleaseohpleaseohpleaseohprettyprettyplease, Mom? I'll do SUCH a good job today and I'll listen and cooperate and I'll clean my room and I won't bother the cat and I'll scratch your back for 130 minutes after school oh please Mom can I buy my lunch?"
"Hmmmmm."
I pretend to think about it for a few seconds.
"Okay. I guess that just for today, you can be a buyer."
And thus, I threw some white cheddar Cheez-Its into a baggie for her snack, tossed them into her Disney Princesses backpack and we exited the house for the bus stop, Kiddo loudly proclaiming Huzzah! and Hooray! and doing everything but throwing confetti. I texted her teacher to give her the scoop as Kiddo pondered aloud what she would buy for lunch. Toasted cheese? The entree of the day (which I don't even know, as I tossed the menu at the beginning of the month since, you know, Kiddo doesn't buy her lunch)? Ice cream? (I wouldn't be surprised if that's all Kiddo eats today....)
So, I am Mom the Hero for allowing Kiddo the rare treat of buying her lunch instead of bringing it (and buying milk, which thus far has been the only thing Kiddo has ever bought in the cafeteria) and I've got promises of good behavior and endless back scratching as well! So, gimme my trophy, please - Kiddo at least thinks I deserve it!
I'd like to say this will never happen again, that I've learned my lesson and that henceforth, I shall never neglect to pack a healthy, nutritious, cost-saving lunch for Kiddo from day 102 until the end of her school career.
I'd also like to say that George Clooney and Hugh Jackman are having a serenade-off outside my window right now, each proclaiming their undying affection and admiration through song.
I do have a great spot for that trophy, though - right on the stove top. It's all cleaned off and ready.
I'll leave you now, to get back to my cleaning and packing (the carpet cleaning dudes arrive tomorrow, so they have to actually be able to get to the carpet...) with a little of Kiddo's current toothbrush tune and a little Hugh and George, though sadly, I can't get any video of their serenade duel uploaded just now. I packed the cord for the video camera already, you see. Yeah, that's the ticket........
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9:55 AM
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13 comments:
"Did you ever knooooww that yooouur'reee my heeeeeeeeroooooooo."
Excellent job, Mama. Excellent job.
I do love a good spin. And, if you get really, really good at it - there's always politics:)
I always wished my mom would pack me lunch for school! Isn't it funny how we always want what we don't have? " )
wow what a morning.... im exhausted. you deserve a trophy AND a week at a spa! :)
Heather, you seriously need to read this http://www.amazon.com/Sweet-Potato-Queens-Big-Ass-Novel/dp/1585479160/ref=sr_1_9?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1235610165&sr=1-9 And then we'll get us some tiaras and cruise on down to Jackson one of these years!
Smooth move, sister!
Way to save it!
So, what did she get for lunch?
And, why are little kids allowed to pick what they want to buy for lunch by themselves? Is there no one telling them they can't buy ice cream?
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Way to milk the situation to your advantage mom. Nothing like thinking on your feet!! I had to wipe a tear from my eye at your wizardry of manipulation...BRAVO!
You texted her teacher? Wow, that's convenient!
Next year train her to pack her lunch, and you won't have to worry about it. =)
You're such a clever one, aren't 'cha!? ;-)
WOW! You texted the teach! OMG! LOL. Nice move. So what did she get to eat? I'm dying to know! Good for Kiddo!
Heather, Heather, Heather ... make the lunch the night before and stick it in the fridge. Lay out her clothes the night before as well.
This is coming from someone who constantly ran around the house every single morning trying to get both girls dressed and fed and out the door without killing one or both of them in the process.
By the way ... everybody is wondering why my youngest daughter's first words were not "shit, shit, shit" ... good for you for not having a potty mouth.
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