Fun Mom, Mean Mom, Tired Mom
Friday 
in mid-afternoon 
Mystie
I decided to be a Fun Mom today. Actually, I’d been planning this Fun Mom experience all week for today and I didn’t let the morning — in which Hans was his own version of Curious George and I was Grumpy Mom — get in the way of my plan. All three of us together made sugar cookie dough and each of the boys got their own portion of rolled-out dough (I have come to love the flexible cutting boards I purchased last month! They made perfect “trays”) and 3 mini cookie cutters each.
Well, the cup and a half or so of dough that I gave each boy turned out to be just about right: the cookie sheet was full right about the time my Fun Mom limit was reached. However, it was also right about the time Hans got the hang of the cookie cutters (”push them down all the way” “don’t overlap the lines” “wait for me, please”) and about the time Jaeger needed a nap. Jaeger couldn’t emotionally handle Mommy re-rolling his dough scraps for him. He had reached his limit as well by the time the pan was full and began a full-on fit that resulted in his nap time beginning right then instead of waiting 7 minutes and one cookie later, as had been the plan. He went to bed while Hans monitored the baking cookies. Jaeger wailed. Hans got his cookie and then began to go up the stairs to his quiet time of his own accord. Jaeger heard Hans’ ascent and changed his tactic, perhaps thinking Mommy had come to check on him and offer him a cookie, which she had not. I’m a Nice Mom about as frequently as I am a Fun Mom.
“Mommy, I’m cheerful now.” I can still hear the tears behind the voice.
“Mommy, I’m cheerful now.” He sounds like he’s trying very hard to make this true.
“Mommy, I’m cheerful now!” He now believes that he’s not getting a response because he has not been heard.
“Jaeger, I’m glad you’re cheerful. But it’s nap time. You need to take a nap.”
*Wail*
“Mommy, I’m cheerful now.”
“Good. You can take a cheerful nap.” See, most of the time I’m a Mean Mom. Yes, this is what I told him without even opening his door.
*Wail*
Silence then prevailed for all of about 30 seconds when I heard:
“Mom! I had a cheerful nap.” I put the last of Mommy’s sugar cookie cut-outs in the oven and prepared a treat to take downstairs for a little alone and silent computer time.
“Mom! I had a cheerful nap.” He really sounds cheerful. He’s been in his bedroom for all of 10 minutes.
“Mom! I had a cheerful nap.” No need to tell him the parable of the widow and the judge.
“Mom! I had a cheerful nap!” Again, he believes his problem must be volume.
Mean Mom then takes her refreshments downstairs so she can recharge before having to turn on Fun Mom again for the frosting fiasco she is anticipating.
“Mom! I had a cheerful nap!” resonates from the monitor. *Click*
–An hour later–
No one made any blog posts and no one emailed me, but I still found things to browse for an hour. I remembered thepioneerwomancooks.com! :) I click on the monitor again, expecting the hear the sweet sound of silence. No, Jaeger is crying. Apparently his cheerful nap really was over. He’s been awake and crying for an hour. Either he will fall asleep soon and be out like a light all afternoon or we’re going to have a winner of a frosting fiasco.
I take my things upstairs, try closing my eyes on the couch a bit because 20 minutes of Fun Mom has left me still exhausted — as has not having had enough water and having had too much sugar. Jaeger is still crying upstairs. I get up after about 5 minutes and as I fill a glass of water I hear…..nothing! He has stopped as suddenly as if I’d flipped the monitor off again.
So, now it’s an hour after that, Hans has been awake — and out of his quiet time — and is restlessly awaking the promised frosting, although 30 minutes up and around has stabilized his initial emotional unsteadiness. I might let him have frosting.
I have had too much sugar today. Ilse is going to end up being 9 pounds. Now I am craving protein and sunshine, and Matt has decided to head home early and grant me both wishes. In return (and as per another wish), he will consume the remaining sugar cookies, which were — after all — an attempt to fulfill his dream of a thick, soft sugar cookie like the kind you buy at the grocery store bakery that I find disgusting. I believe these fit the bill. The secret was making them at least twice as thick as the recipe (just from Betty Crocker) called for and yet baking them for the same amount of time. They still looked doughy when they came out and were not even browned at all on the bottom — at all! — but once fully cooled they are firm to pick up yet melt in your mouth. Time to frost them before Matt comes home, solves the boy problems, and whisks me away. Frosting will probably ruin them. But I promised another session of Fun Mom, so I must fulfill my promise. No matter what else I am, I do try to be an Honest Mom.
(MCL)
with 
(personal library)
