Disclaimer: I really adore my mother. Like, a lot. I miss her when I don’t see her for a long time, I look forward to her phone calls, and I really wish she lived closer to me so we could eat Friday night dinners and bargain shop together. In my adult years, I have grown to appreciate having her in my life, and I often find myself apologizing to her for 1990-1997, inclusive.
Here’s the thing, though. We often butt heads. Like, a lot. We both know a lot of random crap about a lot of random crap, we are both extremely stubborn, we both like to be right,
and we both know exactly what’s best for my children.Â
I hear the whines from my children and I know exactly what they mean. Boredom.Â
She hears the whines from my children and knows exactly what they mean. Only, um, not so much.
Here! Have a cookie!
Here! Have a chocolate lollipop. Look, it’s shaped like a bear!
You are? Well, let’s have elevensies, why don’t we?
Here! Have a piece of cake!
Here! Have some coke!
I love The Hunger Games.
Here! Have some chips. You like chips, don’t you?
I love you Bubbie!
Here! Have some chicken soup with matzah balls.
Here! Have an entire jar of olives, three carrots, two pieces of cheese and maybe some strawberries!
I should be sleeping right now. Shhh. Don’t tell my mom that I’m not in bed.Â
Here! Have some matzah and cream cheese.
“Mom. THEY ARE NOT ALWAYS HUNGRY OMG!!!!!!!!!!!”
“But, Ali, don’t you know, when children want to eat round the clock, it actually means that they are growing. Your kids are growing a lot this week!”
Well, at this rate, then, I don’t know how I’m going to get my GIANT children home. They will probably have to stay, anyway, though for theirÂ GuinnessÂ Book of World Records photos.