It's quite obvious that Cubby's childhood is already quite different from the majority of his American peers. And his life--as long as he continues to live here, at least--will probably always be outside the mainstream. But in the end, he is still just a small boy and I am still just a stay at home mom*.
So when I find myself feeling like shit for the . . . how many days is it now? Five million and two? Anyway, feeling like shit AGAIN, staring stupefied at The Cat in the Hat as rain threatens outside and wondering what the hell I'm going to do with Cubby for the next three hours before his nap . . .
Well, then I must just take the child to the kitchen and make some damn cookies. So we did. Oatmeal and chocolate chip, to be specific. And of course, I gave Cubby one of the beaters to lick, because that is an inalienable right of childhood that I am certainly not going to deny my son.
I think he enjoyed it.
He's sleeping now. And I am sitting here eating boxed macaroni and cheese directly from the pot. Because it's not all locavore cuisine and idyllic scenes around here all the time. Just thought you should know that.
* Okay, maybe not JUST a stay at home mom, as most of those women do not count sheep herding among their home duties. They don't know how good they have it.