Wednesday, April 8, 2015

Trading my fake job for my real job: Day 2

I awoke to the sound of the TV pumping out some horrendous noise at 6 am. It was time to get up and work my breakfast magic for a second day in a row. I must have fallen asleep with the TV on last night.

The kids awoke at 7 am, after I had a chance to feed the dog, cat and myself. One kid wanted toast. Can't get any easier than that, I think to myself. The other one wasn't hungry. I've seen this movie before. Where the mom gets upset as the daughter continues to say she's not hungry. And the more the mom insists that the little girl can't go to school on an empty stomach, the more upset the girl becomes. It always ends the same way with two people angry at each other. Not wanting to be the protagonist or antagonist, depending on perspective, I make a conscious decision that the girl will go to school on an empty stomach today if it means avoiding a conflict.

The boy gladly eats his toast making sure not to ingest any of the dreadful crust. He asks if he can have a yogurt and a glass of water. Happy, he plops down and watches the sports highlights from the night before while slurping his vanilla yogurt.

Shit, I forgot. Duke was playing a team with a bunch of white guys when sleep creeped into my head last night. Wondering who won, and forgetting about the stubborn little girl at the breakfast counter, I raced to the nearest chair to get a glimpse of the championship game. Duke won! The only person I know who likes Duke is Joel. Joel was a university friend who liked a lot of the same stuff I did in my early adulthood: sports, alcohol, girls, and raising a lot of shit. Joel and I borrowed a Burger King garbage can one drunken evening. Ripped it right off the pole it was chained to. Some said it was stolen but I returned it three years later.  Joel is a university professor now at Eastern Kentucky I think. He must be so happy with his Duke Blue Devils this morning.....

"Can I have some cereal?", a quiet voice breaks my thoughts.
"Sure. Do you know what kind?"
"Frosted Flakes and Rice Krispies".
"Together?"
"Yeah, that's how mom makes them".
"Ok, sure, Frosted Flakes and Rice Krispies coming up".

The rest of the morning was uneventful. The kids went to the education factory to produce new thought synapses while I returned to my home office to work for the rest of the day.

At 3:20, the front door welcomed home two little factory workers. I had a conference call at 6 pm that was going to last 3 hours. With only two and half hours, supper had to be cooked, dishes washed, kids cleaned and changed, I didn't have a lot of time. Oh and then there was the homework. Our daughter is really good at doing her homework alone. But our son hates everything school related except physical education and recess. Homework is like ripping his eyes out. No, homework is like ripping my eyes out. It's that painful some nights. If this was gonna be one of those nights that I'd rather go blind for the rest of my life than live another moment of homework, there was no way I could get on the conference call on time.

Supper is another fight most nights. I have witnessed too many painful "idontlike" moments.
"I don't like mushrooms"
"I don't like tomatoes"
"I don't like onions"
"I don't like cheese"
You can pretty much insert any word after "I don't like" and it will have been relevant at some point in my house.

My parents would have said, don't eat it if you don't like it. But don't ask for anything else after supper. I've tried that angle with my kids before but our beloved Queen Hen has always food blocked me. With the Queen gone, I am in charge. If they pull this "idontlike" crap on me, I'm gonna use the same strategy my parents used. I'm willing to dig my feet in and fight to the death.

The death fight doesn't happen.  They eat everything on their plate. They thank me for the great meal and they put their dishes on the counter next to the sink. I'm either getting Punk'd or they are as afraid of me as I am of them. They rush upstairs and take their showers singing their favourite songs. They both happily do their homework and ask if I can set their alarm for 6:45 am for tomorrow. Being early to school tomorrow means they get their bribe I promised them yesterday.

They were angels. They were ready for bed at 5:55 pm, which let me get on the conference call at 6 pm. With everything done, I let them watch TV and play on the iPad. When the conference call started, I warned everyone that I may have to step away at a moments notice if the kids acted up. Halfway through the call, someone asked me what I did to my kids to make them behave so well. Proud as I am, I know that this feeling could be fleeting as quickly as it entered my brain. I'm really not sure what I did to make them behave so well. I know I didn't bribe them on this one, but maybe they aren't the terrorists I've come to love.

Kids went to bed a bit late because the conference call went until 9 pm. Despite that, they still wanted me to set their alarm clocks for 6:45 am, which I gladly did. I walked down the lonely hall to my royal bedroom, minus its Queen, to read for an hour.

As the last words read started to flutter around my head like a butterfly on a breezy June morning, I laid down the book to fall asleep. Day two is in the books, only 13 more days to go...

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