I’m Going Off the Rails on a Crazy Grain

We all have buttons that people can push – those little issues and tics that help make us who we are and demonstrate how neurotic we can be.  Maybe it’s a word or phrase: a name in vain, a word for the female anatomy beginning with the letter “P,” or “condiment.”  Yes, I once had a roommate who was totally grossed out by the word “condiment.”  Maybe your button is if the toilet paper is put on “upside down.”  The fact that I put that in quotes should demonstrate that that is not one of my own buttons.  It is, however, one of my husband’s.  I think it’s goofy.

It’s easy to call someone else’s buttons goofy.  That’s because they’re not your buttons.  They don’t evoke that same visceral reaction in you that they do to the wearer of said button.

I have 2 good friends at work who are married with twin boys.  Their dudes are almost exactly one year younger than Stella.   E, the lady half of the couple and I spend a whole lot of time together talking tots.  Usually during these discussions we will share something about our home situations that is driving us crazy.  E hates meal times.  Like gnashing her teeth hates it.  That’s a poor button to have as a mom, as you really do have to feed your kids at least 3 times a day.  It’s the mess that gets her.

I usually laugh a bit and do some mental eye-rolling.  Again, it’s easy to poo-poo someone else’s button.  Kids are messy eaters.  I just don’t care.  I have become quite serene about that variety of mess.  Sure, I have to occasionally remind myself not to bother to clean anything up until the meal is over, but otherwise I recognize that my kitchen floor will never ever be the same again.  I’m ok with that.  As a matter of fact, I plan to harness the spaghetti stains in my grout and one day in the future use that as a vehicle by which I get a new kitchen floor.  I freaking hate my kitchen floor.  It’s this faux-slate ceramic tile (which offends me in and of itself as a geologist) done with this gray grout.  No matter what you do, that grout is the color of dirty mop water.  Ergo, you can’t make dirt look dirtier.

Damn it.  Off topic again.

Last night, Stella helped me become a hypocrite.   Dinner was simple and somewhat healthy.  I sautéed some chicken breast and served it with corn on the cob, some carrots (which she loves the idea of but will rarely actually eat), and couscous.

To hell with couscous.

I have served it before, but never did she dip her fingertips into it and then proceed to broadcast the tiny little particles all over the kitchen.  Being a semi-damp pasta, it stuck to everything it touched.  It was the culinary equivalent of large sand grains.  Not only was it on the floor and counter, it was sticking to hair, Felix’s little seat, Felix’s feet, the legs of the stool, the front of the cabinets.

I tried to stop her but it played out like one of those silly slow-mo scenes in the movies.  I screamed “noooooooooo” slowly in my head and moved to grab her hands.  I was too slow to stop it.  Simultaneously, I could imagine what it would feel like to step on both wet fresh couscous and desiccated couscous the next morning.  How do you sweep it up?  It will try to stick to both the broom and the floor.

So E, if you’re out there, I get it.  I do.  As a result I will never ever serve my daughter couscous again.  And I will stifle my mental eye-rolling when E or anyone else shares a button moment with me.  Until you’ve walked a mile in their mom jeans (and no, E does NOT wear mom jeans….she’s way fashionable), you have no idea what that button would feel like in your own psyche.


About larva225

Working mom. Is there any other kind? Geologist. Nerd.
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7 Responses to I’m Going Off the Rails on a Crazy Grain

  1. boringyear says:

    Omg yes. Cous cous (and quinoa)… Impossible to clean up. Usually our dogs clean the floor for us but even they cannot handle a cous cous disaster. My secret? Mix it with cottage cheese!

  2. Amber Perea says:

    Bahahahaha There IS a difference between these two! Jp doesn’t eat messy foods. In fact, when his hands get dirty on something (read: Cheetos) he promptly makes me clean them.

    I had to stop giving the kid toaster strudel because it was simply too annoying (for me).

    He only eats foods that have no complex flavors (no spaghetti, no multiple ingredients, ect) and if I’m honest…he only really likes peanut butter, ketchup, and barbecue sauce. He’ll eat some other simple foods as a vehicle to get the ketchup or barbecue sauce…but he could care less what they are. 😉

    The thing that I gnash-my-teeth HAT E (can we say that as moms? Lol) is that Jp will persistently repeat something until I get him what he wants. I mean like, break a prisoner down in a war camp, repeating. I’m on this new kick that I make him wait because I know that me jumping up because it’s annoying to ME isn’t doing this kid any favors for once he goes to day program next year but it’s like a stress test for NASA. And I think it might take the whole year to get him to stop (if he ever does ;))

    PS- I hate my floor, too. Faux-granite? Sounds fancy. Mine is faux-tile, I think. It never looks clean no matter how much i scrub it. And we aren’t replacing it until Jp is old enough to not wreck it with his refusal to drink out a sippy and love of red juices. So…college, I guess. 🙂

    • larva225 says:

      Oh yes, as moms we can hate. There are lots of things I hate, like gross kid snot. We just can’t tell our kids we hate it.
      I know what you mean about the repetition and attempts to teach “patience.” We’re supposed to be teaching our kids but it’s more like a crash-course for ourselves. I get it, too. Swimsuit? Swimsuit? Swimsuit? Swimsuit? Swimsuit?Swimsuit? Swimsuit? Swimsuit? Swimsuit? Swimsuit?Swimsuit? Swimsuit? Swimsuit? Swimsuit? Swimsuit?Swimsuit? Swimsuit? Swimsuit? Swimsuit? Swimsuit?Swimsuit? Swimsuit? Swimsuit? Swimsuit? Swimsuit?Swimsuit? Swimsuit? Swimsuit? Swimsuit? Swimsuit?
      I’ve hidden the damn swimsuits. All of them.

  3. kukolina says:

    HAHA! The comments are super funny as well! I like your style! Hm. What was I going to say?!
    Oh yes! Vacuum cleaning! Or hoovering if you are from Europe… 😛
    That is how I used to clean my kitchen floors (now I don’t have a kitchen… I live at my husband’s work place…).
    Getting back to my genius advice: I never understood while the whole world does not clean this was (vacuum/hoover). No more mopping! 😉

    • larva225 says:

      I’ve gotten pretty Zen about messes on the kitchen floor. I figure the ear-splitting noise and toys everywhere are pretty good indicators I have young kids. Therefore, I get a pass on super-cleanliness, you know??

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