Building Cathedrals
My daughter was up several times during the night with a fever and bad dreams, so I was exhausted this morning when my husband left bright and early for work. Hoping to sneak in a few more minutes of shut eye, I asked my oldest to get some breakfast for everyone. We usually have cheerios for breakfast, but when he innocently asked if they could have toast instead, I said yes. When they asked if they could watch Cyberchase, I also said yes.
When I rolled out of my room, bleary eyed, at 8:45, I saw five kids with chocolate from ear to ear — that toast had gotten a hearty schmear of nutella on every piece. The baby was on the floor crying with a cup in his hand, begging for milk, but they had all just turned up the TV rather than answer his cry. The TV was still on.
I got the baby some milk. I made a quick call to ask a neighbor to take the failed nanny to swim practice and sent him up to get dressed. Then, rather than face the mess of chocolate, which has probably made it’s way to the couch now, or the fight of turning off the TV, which has now been on for over an hour, I came in here to vent to all of you. Next, I will make a big pot of coffee and have some toast and Nutella myself.
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