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A typical morning…

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April 11, 2013 by Dadinator

The Wife was not feeling the best. She had it on strong authority from her stomach that if she moved this morning before eating she would throw up/dry wretch. In light of this situation she decided it was best to remain in bed till after breakfast.

The cats were threatening to report us to the RSPCA for animal cruelty because I couldn’t break the laws of physics and feed them the very instant they decide they want food.

The Lad actually stayed in bed till after 6, which was amazing. He had stirred at around 4:30 or something like that, and I had brought him into bed with us. This usually buys an extra hours sleep, this morning it got us 2!

The Lad got up as the Wife and I lazily chatted about dreams.

He then took the wife’s full drink bottle and tipped it upside down, shaking it to get the water out. I may have swore. But I cleaned it up with dirty laundry from the basket and decided that he wasn’t wet enough to change him at this stage.
While I was cleaning it up he got hold if my sunglasses and popped both lenses out fr the umpteenth time.

Realising it was futile to think of lying in, I got up. From this point, things got a bit harder.

Our malcontent cats had managed to tip over a litter tray. Fortunately it had just been changed last night, so it was a bother but not a calamity. I fixed it, remembered at the last second that the cats needed feeding and took care of that. I then found Hector spreading the other cat litter from a bag I had left lying around the house. Again it was fresh so it was not the end of the world. It was also entirely my own fault.

I plonked him on the couch while I cleaned up. Miraculously he stayed there without the aid of the television. Then began operation breakfast.

Porridge was on the menu, at the request of The Wife. Not just porridge but LSA infused porridge. You don’t ask questions about why a pregnant woman wants a certain kind of food at a certain time, you just get on with making sure she has it ASAP. This wasn’t a difficult undertaking in any case.

The bit that takes the longest is getting the ingredients together, after that I can just set it going and walk away (we have a doodad called a thermomix that makes life somewhat easier in this regard). So I gathered almonds, linseeds, sunflower seeds to grind. After that was done I gathered porridge stuff – oats, milk a variety of dried fruit and honey. The difficulty was that the whole time I was doing this The Lad let it be known that he was most disappointed in me. Not only was he annoyed that I was not carrying him everywhere (“Up UUUUP UP” he cried), he was especially indignant at the fact that i had left him stranded on one side of the kitchen safety fence while I was in the other.

He protested. Constantly. And very vocally.

The whole time this was going on: I was working to get us all fed; his mother was calling him from bed asking him to come join her for attention/cuddles/affection/books/playing etc…; and I was also reminding him, perhaps a shade forcefully, that he had 2 parents and one of them was busy at the moment. He clearly thought the busy parent was the only one who could help him at the time (funny the way they do that…).

So we endured. Then I got the porridge on.

Things got easier after that. The wife ate her breakfast in bed and started feeling better. The Lad munched through his with great enthusiasm along with the better part of an apple, and all was well. As recompense for the earlier bad mood I was offered cute babble and big grins as he ate through his. I felt more than duly compensated. He informed me he was “Appppyyyyy” as well.

As vomitingly cliched and corny as it sounds a smile fixes pretty much everything when it comes to dealing with The Lad.

So if I am asked “what did you do this morning” and I respond with “I pottered around”, this is generally what I mean. This is what most parents probably mean. And for those with more than one kid, they mean this multiplied by n, where n=the number of children they have. Or possibly they mean this raised to the power of n… I’ll let you know in September.

Just another morning in paradise.

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