Laurel Snyder

I was informed today at “school” that Lew does not eat his lunch.  Evidently he steals strawberries and chunks of cheddar cheese from others, and ignores his own food.

“But I packed both fruit and cheddar cheese today myself!” I said.

“Yeah, I asked the other kids if they wanted to share his banana,” explained Lew’s teacher (whom I adore) apologetically.  “I asked if they wanted to swap, but nobody did.  And I guess he likes his cheese cut up into smaller chunks.” She shrugged.

And I laughed.

OF COURSE he wants to eat strawberries all day. Who doesn’t?

OF COURSE he wants what he can’t have.  He’s my son.

Nevertheless, to avoid any further bad-mommy gossip about me (there is plenty already I’m sure, what with the cheap shoes and the un-cut-up grapes and the fact that my sons don’t own helmets or wear sunscreen every single day) I will send him off tomorrow with strawberries. I will mince his cheese.

But good lord– she asked them?  They’re ONE!

Oh, did I mention I also like to spank my kids all day long? In public whenever possible!

 

Mothers’ Day is very very dumb, but…

Oh, I had a nice day!

Slept until 10 (10?). Yes, 10! 

NYTimes on the couch, and coffee NOT made by me.  Brought to me in a cup. Sweet homemade card. Muffin.

Picnic at the park. Kids on swings. Blanket in the sun.

TV on the couch during naptime. Hubby and I zoning out. 

Dinner at the new Mexican place.  Yummy brisket and guac and margaritas.

Banana split! From the new place nearby.  Watching Mose dig in.  Feeding Lew bits of banana with drips of sweet.

And now, quiet house, at a reasonable time.

I am lucky, lucky lucky.  And though I am lucky everyday, I am also distracted by so many little tasks everyday, and I am often frustrated by the lack of thank yous everyday (nobody says “thank you for wiping my ass” or “thank you for mashing my pears”).  It’s nice to feel focused on my herd, thanked by the members of my wonderful filthy herd.

It’s nice to be present, able to see the lucky through the diapers and dishes.

If you are feeling unlucky, I’m sorry to gloat.  I don’t mean to rub my good fortune in.  I just mean to be extremely grateful, now when eveything has this golden sheen.