My kids, on the other hand are insatiable. They arrived home from school, music and tennis lessons in the last hour. I have watched as they devoured what was remaining of the Wheat Thins box, the now empty carton of Goldfish Crackers and all of the cheese that was left in the refrigerator drawer, a few rows of Oreos, hummus and carrots, and lots of milk and water. I watch them- partly in disbelief of what they can consume in under 15 minutes and partly envious that they can. And, I try not to ask too many questions about their day. It's not easy. Before they come through the door I promise myself that I will limit my inquiries and ask open ended questions. Otherwise I get bubkas.
"How was your day?"
"How did the spelling test go?"
"Anything good for lunch today?"
"Did you get back your science test corrections?"
"What did Mr. Ratliff say about your report?"
"Mom! Enough! Stop asking so many questions!!!!"
Darn. Goofed it up again. Should have started with the open ended one...
The door of opportunity for conversation has closed. I know this side of the door well. After all, I live with 5 males. I know the signs. The exhale. The eyes no longer looking to me for interaction and instead now focusing elsewhere. When they are done. they are done.
And so, they have moved on to homework. I suggested they do their lessons in the kitchen as I work. We can parallel work. Just like when they were little. They would bang on pots and pans and pull stuff out of my carefully arranged cabinets while I prepared dinner and managed work projects at my desk.
It's cold and wet outside. It's warm and wonderful in my kitchen. Don't tell my husband but I believe we could have just built this kitchen with a big bunk room off the back. After all, everything happens in the kitchen. Gotta love my kitchen.
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