As I tried real hard to make the most of my day off, I slept late. At least as late as my kids allowed me to, which was around 8am. My days usually starts really early. Though I Vaguely remember around 6:30am going into the kitchen because I thought I heard the closing of the microwave door. Only to find my 12 year old special needs son warming up milk for his cereal. I didn’t care that he was warming up his milk. I however, do care that he doesn’t really know how to use the microwave. I also care that he may warm up his milk for maybe 300 minutes while the metal spoon is still in the bowl. Can you imagine waking up to explosions in your kitchen? That’s what I had in store for me, had I not woke up to the simple sound of the microwave door. I’m grateful for my “super human, mom hearing.” You know, the type of hearing that gets activated when you become a mother. The type of hearing that allows you to hear the closing of a microwave door when you are in deep sleep and practically sleep walk to the kitchen to investigate. So I must have dragged myself out of the bed; stumbled into the kitchen, looked at his cute little face, gave him the milk and cereal that he had already poured for himself and dragged myself back to bed. Like I said, I vaguely remember any of that happening. The only proof I have is his empty, dirty cereal bowl that I noticed in the kitchen sink when my seven year old woke me up at 8:30am so I can make her breakfast.
My seven year old wanted pancakes and eggs. She likes her eggs runny, or wet as she likes to put it. Wet eggs, is that a thing? She doesn’t like my homemade pancakes. She once told me that I don’t make them the way that dad makes them. For those of you wondering if I was offended, I wasn’t. This was a win for me. So guess what? I no longer get the unwelcome pleasure of making homemade pancakes. I buy the frozen ready made pancakes from Walmart, 60 seconds in the microwave and its good to go. If she wants homemade pancakes, she knows not to ask me.
Oh, and guess who also wanted pancakes, you guessed it, My 12 year old. Remember him? Mr. microwave at 6:30 in the morning. Thankfully, he is not as picky about his pancakes, although I don’t think he likes runny, wet eggs. He settled for scrambled eggs without any complaints. I tried to go back to sleep. That didn’t go so well. He thought it was best to hang out in my room and lay across my bed. Needless to say, going back to sleep was a lost cause for me. Then he spent the better part of the next few hours asking me for soup. Of all the things, soup, on this warm sunny day. I eventally gave in and he got his soup. Its hard to say “no” to a child with a very limited vocabulary. If he took the time to take the few words he does know and form a full sentence with those words, Its hard to shut him down. A huge part of his disability is language with speech delay.
So, as I gave up on going back to sleep today, I reminded myself that tomorrow is another day. I will attempt to sleep late then. I will also keep my ears open for Mr. Microwave and whatever new thing he has in store for me that I will have to use my “super human, mom activated skills” on.
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