A Bowl of Oatmeal

So this morning I probably made a bad decision as a mother. Only problem is I'm not feeling too guilty about it yet. 

The boys were eating their oatmeal while I washed some dishes. And of course there are the requests for a drink, another helping, more milk, a trip to Saturn...

So I help Silas and dump out the last of the cow milk. Then Leon wants more, and I get out some fresh goat milk and pour a little in his bowl. 

But then he realizes what kind of milk it is. 

"Mommy, I DON'T LIKE THAT KIND OF MILK!" -This starts to escalate into a full blown meltdown.  

I have to do something. 

"Can you ask Mommy if she can fix it?" (He calms down enough to ask.) 

So I pour the milk out of the oatmeal into Silas' bowl. "See, I fixed it!"

'There's still some in here!' (He starts to get a little pan\cky.) 

So I lied. I said, "Did you know Mommy can do magic? I just poured out the goat milk and left the little bit of cow in there." 

'Hmm, yeah. The cow milk is left!' Totally convinced.

Big sigh of relief. There is nothing like a calm breakfast.

It reminds me of how impressionable my children are. 

By Morgan Weistling

Edited to add that Leon LOVES that painting. He said he wished he could paint it, and keeps asking to look at it. Wants to know the boy's name, etc... Cutie. I need to get a brush back in that boy's hand.