This morning was a typical summer morning. Maggie, age 2, was the only one awake with me during my coffee hour. It’s bitter-sweet. I love when I have one-on-one time with each child but I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that I have a breaking point.
Mags: (wide-eyed with excitement) “Hi Mommy! Hi Mommy! Hi Mommy!”
Me: (I pick her up and hug her)”Good morning sweet girl! Did you have a nice sleep?”
Mags: (shaking her head yes and kissing me) “Yesh, Maggie sweep nice!”
Me: “Oh good! What would you like for breakfast?”
Mags: “Ummm? Waffle pwease!”
Me: “Ok, Mommy is going to make you a yummy breakfast!”
Mags: (claps) “Yay!”
Let’s be honest. 2 year-olds are cute as shit. They make you feel like a super hero for toasting a frozen waffle. I slapped the finished product on her favorite Elmo plate, cut it into pieces and watched her enjoy her early morning feast. She was so grateful I began to feel guilty.
Mags: “Tank you Mommy! Tank you! Nummy nummy!” (Then in her cookie monster voice) “Waffles!!!”
This makes me smile. Soon she will join the others and complain about having waffles AGAIN and I will need to remind her to say thank you. Then I will wonder where I went wrong and why they are all ungrateful little brats. But today I love the innocence of my 2-year-old.
Mags: “Mommy eat waffle too?”
Me: “No, Mommy drink coffee first.”
I don’t know why, but lately I seem to have slipped into cave man talk with her. It’s a very primitive form of the English language that toddlers seem to understand and actually respond to.
Mags: “No waffle?”
Me: “No. Mommy drink coffee. Mommy not eat waffle” (See what I mean? Me talk like cave man to toddler.)
Me: “Why what?” (Too many questions kid)
Mags: “Mommy why?”
Me: “Why are you asking me why?” (Someone make her stop!)
Mags: (Now she is pissed) “Mommy eat waffle!!!!”
Me: “Mommy no want waffle. Mommy want coffee.” (Now chill the fuck out)
Mags: “Oh! Mommy want coffee!”
Me: “YES! (trying to calm down) Yes…yees…Mommy want coffee. Now Shhhhhh.”
Mags: (She mimics me and makes the shhhh noise. There is a pause and then she whispers) “Mommy going to sweep?”
Me: “No. Mommy wants coffee in quiet.”
Me: “Because Mommy never gets peace and quiet”
Me: “Because Mommy had too many children”
Me: ” Because Daddy took me to Vegas for our 10 year anniversary and I came home pregnant.”
Me: “Because he was trying to impress me”
Me: “Because Daddy didn’t want me to bitch at him for the next decade about how lame he was for our 10 year anniversary so he avoided a conflict. It was actually a power move on his part.”
Mags: “Oh! Daddy?” (Looking around for daddy. Apparently Daddy is the only word that registered in that last little rant of mine.) “Where’d Daddy doh?”
Me: “He went to work”
Mags: “Daddy at wurt”
Me: “Yes. He went to work.”
Mags :”Daddy go bye-bye”
Me: “Yes but he’ll be home tonight.”
Me: “Because he will need to sleep at some point”
Mags: “Daddy sweeping?”
Me: “Well, no..not exactly.”
Mags: “Mommy! Shhhh Daddy sweeping”
Me: “Shhhh…yes, don’t wake daddy! He is like a sleeping monster!” (Toddler scare tactics= good parenting)
Mags: (wide-eyed and whispers) “Oh no Mommy. Daddy monstah sweeping. Shhh…be vewy quiet.”
I nod my head and reassure her that if she remains quiet, the household monsters won’t ever find her. I think I have finally satisfied her curious little mind. She leans over and gives me a big syrupy kiss.
My lips are sticky. My heart is full and my coffee is now cold but I wouldn’t have it any other way.