Maybe it was all in my imagination?

Okay, clearly something is wrong here. Please bear with me, while I go through my ridiculous hysterics.

Saturday: I found a note that Agent X called (the note was on my grocery list). Being as it was 6:00 a.m., I wisely chose not to call. I sent a polite e-mail asking when it would be convenient to call. No response.

I figured, no biggie. Who checks their work e-mail over the weekend anyway? Not me. (I pretend that those parent e-mails don’t exist. No, no. Johnny could not possibly be eating paste and yes I KNOW he did his homework and is too scared of me to turn it in. Right.). Ahem.

So, I wait on tenterhooks for further instructions via email.

Monday: I realize that I don’t have access to my home email at work, and what if Agent X wants me to call at 10 a.m. and I can’t because I’m in the middle of teaching the Cuban Missile Crisis? What if I miss a call? No, no, this can’t happen.

Monday night after I get home. No email. No voice mail. Then I think…what if the message isn’t what I thought it was? Maybe my husband wrote down the name of a person who called long distance who coincidentally has the same name as Agent X. Maybe it was really an insurance agent working for Geiko. Yes, that must be the reason why Agent X hasn’t responded. Because she really wasn’t intending to call me. It was just an innocent mix-up.

Excuse me while I go look up insurance rates…:whistle:

The nutritional needs of toddlers

About the time my son turned one, our pediatrician reminded me that because his nutritional needs had decreased, he would start eating less and growing at a slower pace. My son was nicknamed “Bruiser” by the daycare staff, seeing as he was in the 90th percentile in height and weight. He inhaled anything we put on his plate and asked for more. He also would eat two breakfasts–one at home and the other at daycare. We rubbed our hands with glee, anticipating a football scholarship.

Now, at age three, he’s of average height and weight (darn it, we had to start one of those 529 college saving plans), and his eating habits have changed dramatically.

Me: Honey, eat your chicken.
Him: I don’t like chicken. I’ll just have peanut butter and jelly.
Me: That’s nice, but we’re having chicken. Come on, eat it.
Him: I don’t want it.
Me: (thinking–eat the darn chicken already!!!) Here, take a bite (shove bite into his mouth).
Him: (Frowns, and spits it on the plate) Can I have a treat?

The child, in his warped toddler logic, believes that by consuming a molecule of chicken, he is thereby entitled to milkshakes, chocolate, and cookies. I made a vow to myself that I wouldn’t become a short-order cook. I would make dinner and by God, the kids would eat what I served.

This is before I learned what Mommy guilt was. When your child puts on those tear-filled eyes, mouth quivering, saying, “I’m hungry, Mommy”:cry: –sometimes they just won’t eat the chicken. Then you feel like a horrible person :loser: because you are clearly STARVING your child by not making a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.

I’ve given in once or twice. Usually when I was making something I knew he didn’t care for (spicy foods, usually, like chili). But mostly I’ve stuck to my guns, beaten myself up over sending my child to bed without eating dinner, and then consoled myself by the fact that he still eats two breakfasts. Thank goodness for that!