Good Morning To You

This morning was a doozy. Magnus didn't eat dinner last night (note-I prepared a delicious healthy meal and he refused to eat it, therefor he gets nothing) and whenever he does that he wakes up super early because he is starving and he comes and tries to wake me up so I'll get him food and when I won't, he takes matters into his own hands. He decided since I wouldn't get up to feed him, he would bring the food to me so I would open it for him. He kept bringing me all sorts of random things (cream puffs? Whipping cream? a whole gallon of milk?), and I (in my sleepy/half comatose state) kept shooing him away to which a tantrum ensued (by him, not me.... this time).

I finally dragged myself out of bed after glancing at the clock (it was 5:30 AM people, and I had stayed up until 1 AM doing homework) and I went into the kitchen to find a lovely little mess he had made. I quickly cleaned it up, explained to him (in between his shrieks of protest) that we don't get up at 5:30 AM to eat breakfast, and this is why we eat our dinner at night so that our bodies aren't starving at such an unacceptable hour (Are you still with me? Good, because it gets better.) I finally convinced him to lie down with me for a little while. I must have dozed off because I heard him in the kitchen again at 6:30.

I finally relented and figured he must be really hungry, so I went into the kitchen and found him trying to pour himself a sippy of milk. I took over and did it for him and decided to get some laundry going. Our kitchen has stairs that go down into the laundry room, so I walked down and Magnus followed and plunked himself down on the top step while enjoying his sippy and watching me fill the washer with dirty clothes and detergent. After a few minutes he yelled at me that he wanted more milk and I glanced up to see that he had finished off the milk in his cup. I told him to wait a minute, to which another tantrum ensued and all I could do was sigh. I mean, I deal with this child's tantrum's minute after minute, hour after hour, day after day.... you get it. The kid throws more tantrums than all of my other kids ever did combined, and I am just tired. I love him more than I can even express, I do, I am just so very tired.

 I finish what I'm doing and walk over to the bottom of the stair and look up at Magnus and ask him, "So, now that I'm ready to help you, would you like to ask me nicely what you need help with?" Magnus stared at me for a minute with a frown on his face and then, with no warning whatsoever, he proceeded to throw-up milk over and over again. I just stared in horror until he stopped. I mean, it's already on the floor, I'm not going to try and move him and risk getting it everywhere which would just create more mess to clean-up, am I right? Uuuuuuuuggggghhhhhhh. Seriously.

The life of a mother.