Friday, January 20, 2012

Breakfast in Bed

Breakfast in bed.  It sounds amazing, doesn't it?  The image I'm picturing is pretty fantastic.  After I sleep in until - let's just say 9am (right!) - I am awakened by my husband, followed by four sweet children who have made me breakfast.  I'm thinking eggs, sausage, toast, orange juice.  Yum.  Just thinking about it makes me hungry, and sleepy!    

This morning I woke up to something else.  And strangely, it was also pretty fantastic. 

I woke up to a strange noise coming from my kitchen.  Naturally, I reached over to see if Chris was still in bed and smacked his face accidentally.  If he wasn't in there, who was?  I looked at the clock, 6:10.  An hour before I normally get up.  I woke Chris up and told him someone was in the kitchen.  He sat straight up immediately and looked in that direction.  Pretty quickly (despite some nervous thoughts on my part)  he saw Sophia.  He called her in and asked her what she was doing. 

She started to describe her morning.  She had come into our room and gone to the bathroom and then went in to the kitchen and got out the toaster.  (It's in the cabinet above our sink so she had to stand on the counter and sink just to reach it.)  Then she made herself toast and ate it.  Next she made Chris and I each 3 pieces of toast.  Then she made her and her sister's sack lunches for school and got out everyone's coats and backpacks so they'd be ready to go.  I rubbed my eyes and just asked how long she had been up.  "5:50!  I just woke up and remembered my idea to surprise you!"  She brought in our toast on separate trays.  Chris' was on a cutting board, and mine on a cookie sheet.  

Holy cow, lady!   First, Sophia is not an early riser.  She gets up when the alarm goes off - and of course I set it for as late as I can!  Second, Sophia is not naturally the nurturing/caretaker type.  She really has to be encouraged to care for her siblings and help out around the house.  And third, the kid has never been allowed to make toast before.  I know she's old enough, but it's just been easier/safer to do it myself.  But in my mind, the real shocker is that Chris and I slept through all of that.  Isn't that crazy and a little bit scary at the same time?  Why does a single cry from one of them wake us up when we can sleep through all of that? 

Since I was half-asleep as she told us all this I rubbed my eyes and asked her if she wanted to snuggle (aka:  momma fall back asleep) and then eat.  Nope, she wanted to watch us enjoy our food so we sat up and ate some toast.  And since she was pretty liberal with the peanut butter, we chewed.  And chewed.  But oh, how sweet it was.  She was such a loving little girl surprising us in such an amazing way.  And, I honestly think it was better than any "breakfast in bed" fantasy I've ever had! 

Tuesday, January 17, 2012

Admitting an addiction is the first step...

I think the first step in dealing with a problem is admitting it.  And since he won't, I will. Because, that's how I roll. My husband has an addiction.  It's serious.  It takes up a lot of his free time.  A LOT.  And, I can't find one positive thing about it.  Well, I guess one.  It's not an expensive addiction.  That's something, right?

My husband is addicted to this.

Yes.  Seriously addicted.  He can't put the thing down.  I'm surprised he can set it down long enough to go to work.  Honestly surprised.  It all started a year ago.  For some reason he encouraged me to get it for our oldest daughter - she was 7 at the time.  Now I realize he actually got it for himself.  He had a slight problem putting the thing down last year after Christmas, but then somehow he forgot about it between working, going to grad school, and being a parent.  

He found it again and hasn't put it down for over a week.  Seriously, a lot of free time is spent on this thing.  He even went as far as to finally google how to solve it.  He solved it.  But, then he felt like he cheated so he has continued messing with it sure he can work it out on his own.   Sophia even came to him and asked for it back saying it was hers.  He refused.  Outright refused to give his daughter her toy.  Like I said, he set it down long enough to go to work and she took it back to her room and hid it behind a picture.  

Chris went down last night at 11pm and found it.  Pour kid.   I think I'm going to have to take it away and give it to some family that can handle the responsibility of owning it.  This is not the first toy that has caught his attention.  Exhibit B. 

Sophia won a little rubbery boomerang toy during a fundraiser two years ago.  Chris was obsessed.  He couldn't put it down.  I finally had to hide it on top of the fridge and eventually threw it away.  He mourned the loss.  Even a year later he remembers that thing fondly. 

So, I need some advice guys, how do you break your husband of a crazy addiction?  Do I hide the thing?  Give it away?  Solve it myself and put him in his place?  Just kidding -- not worth my time and I'm not big on solving those kind of puzzles!  Or just let him literally waste hours of his life on it?  What would you do if it was your husband?