We often say that Gabe reminds us of the younger brother on Christmas Story. The one that is always whining and particularly difficult at mealtime.
It is getting better with age but he still tends to go straight to whining before even thinking about what it is that is upsetting him and dinner can still be the most painful time of the day.
So what happens when a slightly crazy mother has a bad day and then encounters ridiculous whining at dinner?
Ah the perfect storm.
Today I woke up dizzy. Really weird, spinning room dizzy. Just to clarify, no I don't think I'm pregnant and I can also assure you I was not drunk or hung over. The dizzy made me feel nauseous and the nauseous made me want to find my sweats and run for the covers. As the day went on I felt better but in general this girl needed a cup of tea and early bed time.
Matt agreed to take the boys to see the reptile man tonight at Gabe's school. Which equals my worse nightmare: After school events and snakes. No thanks.
So I was whipping together a fancy meal of GMO Free hot dogs and mac-n-cheese so they could be on their way when Gabe asked for a pickle. I told him he could have one with dinner. I decided to fancy up my meal of hot dogs and mac-n-cheese with a pickle spear on each plate. I was plopping the food down at the table when suddenly that storm started to pick up.
Gabe starts whining, like crazy high pitched baby whining about his pickle. The very pickle he asked for. I calmly asked "what is your problem?" He whined back "I don't like spicy pickles". And I respond "they are not spicy".
Here is where things got foggy.
I don't know exactly what he was saying but is was mumble, high pitched, crazy whining and so I marched (you know I did too....think wedding day stomp up the aisle) on in to the dining room and snatched up those darn pickle spears and ate them.
Just. Like. That.
I told you it was the perfect storm.
Let me just take care of those pesky pickles for you and have a little appetizer on my way back in to the kitchen.
I returned from the kitchen with the jar of pickles, Kosher Dill, and the condiments for the dogs.
The look on Gabe's face said it all "oops".
Yep. Oops.
He asked for a pickle. I took it out of the jar, cut it up so that it would be more manageable to eat, and placed them on his plate.
They didn't look like the pickles in the jar, but rather than trusting me, trusting that I knew what his heart desired, he instantly started throwing a fit.
All along the very thing he wanted, and asked for, was right in front of his face.
I thought this story would be about how I'm the crazy mom that snatched up the kid's pickles and ate them because he whined about them, but I think it is really about life and how we see it sometimes.
The very thing we want may be right in front of us, on our plate, but because it looks a little different than we thought it would, we reject it, whine about it and wish for something else.
Thank the Lord he doesn't snatch up our pickles when we reject them. He probably just rearranges them so we can see "oh four pickle spears make a whole doggone pickle".
It is getting better with age but he still tends to go straight to whining before even thinking about what it is that is upsetting him and dinner can still be the most painful time of the day.
So what happens when a slightly crazy mother has a bad day and then encounters ridiculous whining at dinner?
Ah the perfect storm.
Today I woke up dizzy. Really weird, spinning room dizzy. Just to clarify, no I don't think I'm pregnant and I can also assure you I was not drunk or hung over. The dizzy made me feel nauseous and the nauseous made me want to find my sweats and run for the covers. As the day went on I felt better but in general this girl needed a cup of tea and early bed time.
Matt agreed to take the boys to see the reptile man tonight at Gabe's school. Which equals my worse nightmare: After school events and snakes. No thanks.
So I was whipping together a fancy meal of GMO Free hot dogs and mac-n-cheese so they could be on their way when Gabe asked for a pickle. I told him he could have one with dinner. I decided to fancy up my meal of hot dogs and mac-n-cheese with a pickle spear on each plate. I was plopping the food down at the table when suddenly that storm started to pick up.
Gabe starts whining, like crazy high pitched baby whining about his pickle. The very pickle he asked for. I calmly asked "what is your problem?" He whined back "I don't like spicy pickles". And I respond "they are not spicy".
Here is where things got foggy.
I don't know exactly what he was saying but is was mumble, high pitched, crazy whining and so I marched (you know I did too....think wedding day stomp up the aisle) on in to the dining room and snatched up those darn pickle spears and ate them.
Just. Like. That.
I told you it was the perfect storm.
Let me just take care of those pesky pickles for you and have a little appetizer on my way back in to the kitchen.
I returned from the kitchen with the jar of pickles, Kosher Dill, and the condiments for the dogs.
The look on Gabe's face said it all "oops".
Yep. Oops.
He asked for a pickle. I took it out of the jar, cut it up so that it would be more manageable to eat, and placed them on his plate.
They didn't look like the pickles in the jar, but rather than trusting me, trusting that I knew what his heart desired, he instantly started throwing a fit.
All along the very thing he wanted, and asked for, was right in front of his face.
I thought this story would be about how I'm the crazy mom that snatched up the kid's pickles and ate them because he whined about them, but I think it is really about life and how we see it sometimes.
The very thing we want may be right in front of us, on our plate, but because it looks a little different than we thought it would, we reject it, whine about it and wish for something else.
Thank the Lord he doesn't snatch up our pickles when we reject them. He probably just rearranges them so we can see "oh four pickle spears make a whole doggone pickle".
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