It’s barely 11:00 A.M. and I can hardly stand it. I can not get past how hungry I am. Does ravenous mean anything to you? All I can manage to do with my starving body is sit at my laptop and type. I am so famished and I don’t have any idea why. I mean, come on, I ate my usual Oatmeal mixed with Rice Milk and Brown Sugar with two cups of tea breakfast, just a few hours ago.
And for the past twenty-three minutes I have looked at the clock like a child on Christmas morning, waiting for the moment they can open their presents. . . 10:37 . . . 10:43 . . . 10:58 . . . trying to convince myself that if only I can wait until 11:00 A.M., I can eat something. Crazy. I feel crazy and seriously hungry. Have any of you ever felt this way?
I watch my laptop clock magically switch from 10:59 to 11:00 A.M., knowing that all my pain and suffering will shortly be over. Then I spring to the freezer, open my stash of raw almonds, shove a handful in my mouth and grab a few of the chocolate cookies my friend gave me for my birthday. As I type, I eat.
And, you know what?
I am still hungry. Oh man! I really don’t have anything good to eat. I am sick of my usual Corn Flakes and raisins and am just hoping I can hold on until after we pick Kyle up. (Then I can take the boys to my favorite Mexican Restaurant — Rubios — I Know. I am classy like that. Yum. Taquitos!)
Right this very moment, Eli has a friend over. They found the marbles and are having a blast filling the bulldozer with those little round glass balls. I hear their loud joy from the toy room. I have checked on them several times, but because they are past “choking hazard” age, I am letting them have a little bit of autonomy.
I hear them marching up the stairs.
“I am hungry!”
“We are hungry!”
[thinking to myself] “Now they are hungry. There is no way I am going to avoid stuffing my face with these two very hungry boys demanding some food . . . Why oh why am I so damn hungry today?”
Eli walks over, grabs my arm and says,
[penitent] “Mom, just come see. Come see.”
I will be right back. I need to go and see.
I am back (of course, I am back with a handful of almonds).
Am I bad that I made Eli’s accident seem a little worse than it was? He knocked a shelf down from our lovely IKEA toy room shelving unit.
Upshot of our conversation:
“Eli, if you knock the shelving unit down, it could fall on you and then, YOU COULD DIE!. Seriously, if it falls on you, you could be killed. Please don’t sit on it again, ok?”
“Ok, mom, I won’t”
Presently, the two boys are sitting at the table with me. They are giggling and enjoying their processed food. I must go. Eli needs me to shove another cheese cracker in his mouth. (He is pretending to be a slot machine — not that he knows what a slot machine really is . . .)
P.S. Just this morning I realized that I had forgotten Eli’s Music Program this past Monday. How lame am I? I would like to say the slip was due to my concussion, but seriously concussion or not, I shouldn’t have missed it. And besides, it doesn’t take away how sad I felt or Eli was when he told me,
“Mom, I was the only one who didn’t have a parent there. I had to walk around the train all by myself.”
Before I had children, I swore I would never be one of those parents. You know, the parent, who blows off their children. I am much more sympathetic now. And after spending the morning with just Eli (before his friend came over), I am hoping he feels how much I love him and that he knows that I will try never to miss his music program ever again.