Home » Blog » Laughs » I forgot to feed my son breakfast

I forgot to feed my son breakfast

ByAnna Luther March 21, 2014March 22, 2021

I will be the first to admit that our mornings are a little hectic around here.

Somehow, back in the days of me working full-time, I managed to get myself up and dressed, get two toddlers up and dressed – and we would all be buckled into the car and heading for daycare and work no later than 7 am every single morning.

Pretty sure I even managed to shower on those mornings.

I no longer work outside of the home, and I have one kid to get on the bus and another kid to drop off at preschool and another one who is an all-star at making messes – but I don’t have to shower or look decent or do much of anything in the mornings really. Yet things are more chaotic now than ever.

Someone always wants to start a “project” before 7 am.

“I’m just going to need some string, an empty egg carton, a toilet paper holder and some scissors. Okay, mom? Can you get that for me? RIGHT NOW?”

And someone always needs socks.

Or pants.

Or help getting the toothpaste opened.

And at least one morning every week I have a fairly important conversation with one of my kids. Last week’s conversation went something like this:

Miles (age 6): Mom – do we have the same skin?

Me: Yup. We sure do.

Miles: But – just the same color, right? Not the same texture.

Me: We have the same skin, buddy.

Miles: But – my forehead feels really smooth. And your forehead (feels my forehead) is really bumpy.

Me:

Miles: And it has all those lines on it.

One…

two…

three…

four…

five…

six…

It’s just really hard to count them all because they’re so close together.

Me:

Miles: It’s a lot like the rings of a tree. You know how when you cut a tree down, you can count the rings to see how old the tree is? It’s like that with the lines on your forehead.

Yes – conversations like that take up a large part of my mornings.

But somehow, despite all of the crazy and the chaos, we have yet to miss the bus. Score!

I have yet to drop my daughter off at preschool more than 15 minutes late. Okay, 20…

And the 3 year old gets out of his pajamas and dressed at least twice a week. Double score!

In fact, I’m not going to lie. I was starting to feel a little cocky last week. I was pretty much feeling like I had this mom thing totally figured out.

Did I have wrinkles on my forehead resembling a dead tree’s rings? Yes.

Did my 3-year-old ask me why he had to wear his pajamas all day? Possibly.

But were my kids fed, happy and healthy? Yes.

Boom – I was winning.

And then my kindergartner got off the bus last week and said,

“Mom – you forgot to feed me breakfast this morning.”

BANG CRASH SMASHHHHHHHH

That was the sound of my Mother of the Year award shattering into a million pieces on our driveway.

Me: What? I didn’t feed you breakfast?

Him: Nope. You forgot.

Me: Did dad feed you breakfast?

Him: No. He said you would.