Monday, November 3, 2008

...and candy bars for breakfast.

I have three kids, three boys that is. My oldest will soon be nine years old, which including pregnancy gives me almost a full decade of parenting experience. I have cleaned vomit out of carpet at 3:00 a.m. I've changed diapers that would have left some veteran parents weak in the knees. I have dealt with and conquered almost every dreaded parenting situation imaginable.

But, and you knew a but was coming, I am starting to get tired. While I have overcome the "ewwww" factor to parenting, I have yet to learn to deal with the exhaustion which only seems to multiply with each child. I think I now understand why oldest children are classified as the most ambitious of the bunch. By the time their parents have given into a more relaxed parenting, they have safely made it through their formative years.

So, poor little Michael is my third. I am trying to raise him with as much diligence as the rest. I'll confide though, that it just isn't going to happen. I love my sweet Michael as much as any mother could love a baby. This has nothing to do with favoritism. I just don't have it in me to fight his two year old ways like I did with my other boys. At this point in family life, keeping the peace seems so much more important than making sure he wears what I want him to wear or eats every last green bean on his plate. This means that sometimes he still has his pajamas on during afternoon carpool and more often than not, the vegetables are thrown on the floor (and stay there until the cat finds them).

So, this morning, I get the older boys off to school, change Michael's diaper and then begin the search for breakfast food. I knew I should have made it to the grocery store on Saturday, but between Brigham's obligations and my own, the day got away from me and it didn't happen. We did have some yummy bread that Brigham made yesterday, but yummy as it is, Michael isn't a fan. Not only was the breakfast cereal long since depleted, but even the canister of oatmeal was gone. Then Michael brought me a miniature candy bar scavenged from some unsuspecting Halloween stash and I opened it and I gave it to him. My parenting has reached a new low.

6 comments:

Brig said...

Mike's happy with it, I'm sure...

Christina Munyan said...

Haha...I don't think that makes you any less of a parent than you were with J. Sometimes, it's those small things that kids remember when they grow up. For instance, one of my most clear childhood memories is having grandpa slip me candy from his pocket and telling me not to tell grandma. I wouldn't worry too much! :)

Shauna said...

I'm so glad I'm not the only one. My discipline with Matthew is definitely not what it was with Daniel. And the kid pretty much lives on Chex, Rice Crispies, and animal crackers. Poor third children get poor tired mommies.

Jeanette said...

*snort* I am not even going to argue with you.

Check out my blog, I have a recent post about using Indiana Jones as a baby sitter *wink*.

I think by the time the third one comes around we have figured out that ice cream for lunch and coloring pictures on the backs of your bank statement isn't going to kill anyone and you just have to let some things go.

I also think if I didn't have to be to work every day that I, myself would be wearing my pj's to the afternoon carpool =0)

Kimbooly said...

First of all, I'm so with you about the day pajama wearing.

And the cat; I want a cat that eats green beans.

And as for the candy, well, Sat, Sun, and Mon morning all THREE of our boys ate halloween candy/chocolate for breakfast. We supplemented their sweet tooths with real breakfast, of course, but the candy came first.

It's nice to know there are other real parents out there.

The Whitten Family said...

Kara,
Thanks for keepin' it real! Love reading your blog...you're a fantastic writer. I'm going to take the tips the teacher gave J for improving his writing. We've got a very similar problem with our "J".