For me, one of the wonders of motherhood, is the innate sense our children have of when certain events are occurring or are about to occur, and decide to have a meltdown at that time.
In the Rusch house, that moment is inevitably, dinnertime. When I was pregnant, several moms warned me that A would have a fussy time each day. That there wouldn't be anything wrong with him, but that he would just be fussy. His time was between 6-8pm. Do you want to know what determined exactly what time in that 2 hour interval that he would be fussy? When T and I sat down to eat dinner.
Our evenings usually go something like this..... pick A up at daycare at 4:00. By the time he hugs and kisses everyone 1,000 times and we leave its 4:30. By the time we get home and get in the house and somewhat settled its 5:00. We play for a few minutes and then I begin fixing him dinner because he is eagerly awaiting it and starving at 5:30. T arrives home between 6:00 and 6:30. He plays with A for a few minutes. Then its bathtime, story time, prayer time and bedtime (for A that is). Then T and I make dinner for ourselves and eat around 8:00. SHEW. I'm exhausted writing this.
On the rare occasion that T gets to leave early and is home by 6:00, I try to have dinner ready so we can eat as a family of 3. A doesn't quite understand the concept of a snack yet, hence why we eat at separate times. We're still working on that one. Anyway, Tuesday was one of those days. T agreed to get A from daycare so I could get a jumpstart on dinner and we could all eat together. Perfect plan.
A is generally a very pleasant child. Sure, he has his meltdowns, but they usually last 30 seconds to 1 minute. Overall, he is easygoing like his dad. The two of them arrived home, both in perfectly cheery moods, with only 10 minutes left until dinner was ready. A was in the kitchen playing peek-a-boo around the corner while I was wrapping things up.
The minute and I mean the minute dinner was ready and we sat down, MELTDOWN. I'm not talking a little 30 second meltodown. The child screamed the entire time we ate dinner. It was like someone flipped a switch in him. After about 2 minutes of the screaming I got him out of his seat and put him in my lap. That didn't help. He screamed and climbed all over me for the remainder of our dinner. Have you ever tried to eat brown rice with a 21 month old on your lap flipping around like a fish out of water? No wonder my kitchen floor is never clean. I do wonder though why I am not thinner :)
I still wouldn't trade it for the world.....
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