After having cleaned Carter up from his smorgasbord of mac-n-cheese, steamed peas, Honeycrisp apple and a Jammy Sammy, I let him loose in the kitchen hoping he would occupy himself long enough so that I could eat my lunch, of angel hair pasta, steamed spinach and sauteed mushrooms mind you, in some semblance of peace.
No sooner than my tush hit the couch did I hear that telltale pitter-patter of feet running through the kitchen. To be frank, that sound is truly no longer a "pitter-patter," but more like a stampede of toddler wildebeests. Regardless, he was coming.
As quick as lightening he's up in my lap with his hands already in my bowl. Within minutes he has my fork and begins twirling pasta around and around, graciously offering it to me in heaping forkfuls. As he would do so, his little dimpled mouth would seamlessly form into the "Ahhhh" that I now mindlessly make when trying to coerce him into eat his last bite.
I couldn't help but laugh.
So? We sat there. Noodles and spinach on the couch cushions. For once? I didn't jump up to find my camera. Or my phone. I didn't interrupt him. I didn't tell him, "no." I didn't tweet.
Laugh, but it's so true.
C would offer me a forkful, followed by a handful or two before he would turn and lovingly offer Sheepie some, too. Oh, yes. God forbid Sheepie feel as if he is missing out on anything involving food.
And after making sure we both were fed, C would then take a huge bite, exclaiming "Mmmm."
I didn't get to eat my lunch in peace. A mess was made. In addition to the messes that hadn't yet been cleaned up for the day. Toys were strewn around the living room. The family room. Mixing bowls were askew in the kitchen.
But somehow? That was the best lunch I'd had in a while. Proof that I needed to slow down and say, "yes."
Toddlerhood is exhausting.
More exhausting than just simply Motherhood. However between the "Mmm's" and the "Ahhh" moments? The "tate you's" after I would swallow?
I wouldn't trade it for the world. Happy Friday, Loyals. Have a great weekend!