The grass is always greener on the other side(or, The Food is Always Better From My Brother's Bowl)

Shaun is away this week. He left Friday morning to go to Seattle, and won't be home until next Friday morning. Considering the trouble that we have been having with both kiddos lately, I am already feeling overwhelmed--usually my weekends are my times that I get to have a helper or get a couple hours away! I cannot sleep well without Shaun here, so I am running on very little sleep and not a break in sight from my ADORABLE kids.

I am not complaining. There are so many who have it worse, and really, it's a handful but not un-do-able and not impossible. I am the Kim Possible of Mom-dome. Yes, we've been watching Kim Possible movies. Joshua loves her.

I explained this situation to use my Get Out Of Jail Free card on this: I'm not doing dishes as quickly as I should. I mean, I'm on it and there's not mold growing on anything and nobody is eating dirt or anything, but without a helper, we've gone from dinner table to bathtub to living room(to say goodnight to the cars on the street before closing the curtains) to bed without me taking a moment to clear the table. Which wouldn't be so bad if I got up bright and cheery in the morning but I'm sooooo tired at the moment I'm dragging my butt.

So this morning I hear....wait for it....drum roll, please...... "MINE FOOD! MINE FOOD! MINE FOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOD!" as I rush out of my bedroom where I was begrudgingly getting dressed back to the kitchen, the thought did cross my mind... Have I fed them breakfast yet today? Answer: no. They'd only been up for five minutes.

As Joshua is standing in the kitchen acting as though someone just cut of his leg and he's drowning in blood, I see Holley has gone to his side of the table, climbed up the chair just enough to snatch his plate from dinner last night that still had the mac n cheese he refused to eat sitting on it. Now, usually when Joshua refuses dinner, the plate sits there until bedtime because that's the only food he's allowed to have until he eats it. No exceptions. Last night I didn't clear the table after bedtime. I got out sewing instead. I'm just cool like that. So Holley sits on the floor chowing down on old mac and cheese and just revelling in Joshua's misery. Don't forget, she's lactose intolerant. Sigh.


Take away the old plate and give them each a nice fruit and cereal breakfast that is fresh and clean.

Later, as I'm sitting on the couch with Joshua, who incidentally had just finished a big bowl of pineapple and had asked for me to read him a story, who should walk into the living room but baby Holley. What does she have? The empty fruit bowl. Licking the leftover fruit juice residues. Laughing her head off and refusing to take the thing off her face.


At this point, all I can ask is.... Really? Really? At ten months old, she won't eat much of anything placed on her high chair, but the second her feet hit the ground, she will go to Joshua's chair and eat same food, only as his droppings from his meal. Really? REALLY, HOLLEY?