Not At All What I Thought

* the glow in the picture = birthday candles on the cake

When I awoke this morning, I was envisioning a different kind of day. I thought it would be busy but mello, productive and relaxing. A day with ample time with both kids doing puzzles, hugging stuffed animals, and playing games like memory and war. I thought (foolishly) that I'd have ample time with my sweet sister after dinner at the gym getting rid of the spare tire and we'd chase our time spent burning calories catching up over a glass of wine at the Ancient Mariner or another, fun, local establishment.

But, as the clock quickly ticks toward 9pm, I realize my day wasn't any of those things.

Not one.

And , I think I'm most surprised by dinner.

Dec and I spent a fair amount of time prepping dinner earlier this afternoon - he peeled potatoes, I spiced and diced and experimented with sauces and veggies. When we slipped the pans into the oven, we were both tired, exhausted even... but proud and eager to eat the fruits of our labor.

But dinner wasn't really appreciated today. Or eaten at all - for that matter. At least, not the dinner we prepared.

The day unfolded into a blur of crying-teething-vomiting- 1 year old. And cranky-begging-for attention 4 year old. It was topped off by crazed Mom (that'd be me) trying to please all, do some "real" work, and keep the house. Tidy.

But all day the words that kept me going were ones that I'd heard from my own Mother in past moments of despair. My mother, a mother of SEVEN.

Never be attached to a plan. Don't ever have firm expectations about how the day will go. Be flexible.
Be flexible.

So, it was poor Dame up with Nonie as I pulled dinner out of the oven. He rocked her - and she responded by wailing harder and harder.

In the tense kitchen I looked at Dec. He'd had a day of "your sister doesn't feel well". Poor kid.

I opened the fridge to fill his glass of milk and spotted a perfectly good carrot cake (except for one piece missing - thanks T). Gran's Bday cake - with candles and all. I asked Dec to invite his Thomas the Train and Friends for a special birthday party. He quickly scooped up his favorites and started to talk in those cut-off cute sentences that he gets when he gets way excited about something.....

Suddenly, he set the table. Very very willingly.

We set out a special Thomas the Train place mat for the trains to sit on during dinner. Lit candles - Dec dimmed the lights. Even Nonie got her own train ("Molly") to sit at her at the table. About 30 seconds into the meal, I noticed no one was really eating our gourmet dinner. So, I walked to the cupboard, grabbed our huge Tupperware of Cheerios and from then on the "Cheerio Trains" delivered dinner to the 2 kids and admittedly, their 2 parents. Cheerios. Dry. That's what I ate for dinner.

When the Cheerio Trains had run out of steam, we lit the candles on the cake and sang happy birthday to Diesel, Thomas, Mighty Mack, Molly and one other that I can't remember...

Declan inhaled two pieces of carrot cake.

And, after her generous shipment of Cheerios from the Cheerio Train, "Nonie the sickie" ate a full fig newton bar and a piece of carrot cake with extra frosting.

As I sipped a glass of red wine I couldn't help but think - this is not the dinner that I planned earlier this afternoon. Not at all what I thought. But I also couldn't help but think:

I bet mom sat at many a dinner like this and enjoyed the same thought.
And I never knew.

Until now.