January 17, 2008

Human Volcano Eruption

9:00 a.m. "I vant milk mommy." (Mommy gets her milk.)

9:05 a.m. "I vant ‘ornange’ juice mommy."

9:05:01 a.m. "Lil C, I just gave you milk. Drink your milk first. Then you can have orange juice."

9:07 a.m. "I vant choc-it milk MOMMY."

9:07:01 a.m. (Mommy adds chocolate powder to milk.)

9:08 a.m. "I vant draw-bewwie milk MOMMY!"

9:08:01 a.m. "Lil C, please drink your chocolate milk first. You can’t have three drinks. Mommy is TRYING to make your breakfast."

9:09 a.m. "I vant egg toast."

9:09:01 a.m. "That’s what I’m making you Lil C. It will be ready in a minute."

9:10 a.m. "I VANT EGG TOAST MOMMMEEEEE!" (Repeat at 10 second intervals.)

9:11 a.m. "I VANT EGG TOAST MOMMEEEEEEEEEEEE!" (Mommy tries to keep brain from erupting with frustration. Mommy starts feeling like a chef at a 5-star restaurant, under extreme pressure to get things done right and get things done NOW!)

9:12 a.m. (Eggs and toast are served to Lil C.)

9:12:01 a.m. "Don’t vant egg toast MOMMEEEEE!"

9:12:02 a.m. "Tough Lil C. That’s what we’re having."

9:12:02-9:15 a.m. (Lil C eats her toast and then climbs out of her chair telling me she is "all done."

9:20 a.m. (Lil C crawls back up in her chair.) "VANT EGG TOAST MOMMEEEE." (Proceeds to eat ice cold eggs. Yeech.)

This is pretty much how every meal goes lately with my ~~downright pain in the heiney~~ agreeable little two-year old. I was on the phone with a friend while making breakfast and shuffling beverages; and I can honestly tell you that I started to feel like my head was going to explode. Lil C is high maintenance and SO demanding right now. She’s also fickle, in case you couldn’t tell.

As a Mommy who is still walking around in an immobilizer brace and is still having some discomfort when I overwork my knee, I choose my battles wisely. It’s not uncommon for Lil C to have three drinks at a time. Some would say I’m spoiling her; I say I’m insuring that I don’t have to get her another drink five minutes from now. Three should last her a while.

The demands of a two-year old are bad enough when you’re completely healthy and mobile. When you’re walking like a peg-like pirate and negotiating stairs 20,000 times a day, it’s downright exhausting.

I am also completely stressed out today for another reason. My aunt was recently diagnosed with breast cancer and is undergoing a mastectomy today. Only four weeks out from much more minor surgery, I feel like I’m reliving all of those emotions again: the waiting for your name to be called, the changing into a drafty gown, the stick from the IV needle, being wheeled into the OR, the waking up in pain. . .

I can’t get her out of my mind. I feel physically sick just waiting for news, and dealing with a high maintenance little person is not distracting me. It’s only making it worse. Is it just me or are children 10 times more demanding and impossible when they know you’re already stressed out?

Here’s hoping Mount BBM can avoid blowing her top today. My plan is to keep Lil C well hydrated with a different drink stationed at every table in five foot intervals. I am hoping this plan of action will help us both avoid an "eruption" of catastrophic proportions today.