Wednesday, September 29, 2010
This morning's breakfast starts out like any other...Jeffrey requests mom to make pancakes, mom replies, "Not today." (I probably shouldn't have made pancakes like every morning last week.)
I offered frozen french toast sticks, yummy! We all wanted to dine on those unhealthy pieces of frozen bread drenched in syrup. Wait, did I say "frozen"? Yes, I did. Neither child could handle waiting 50 seconds in the microwave for their sticks. Don't worry, I didn't serve them frozen. I had to listen to two whining babies, at that point they were both acting like babies, for 2 minutes while each of their breakfasts were being heated. Waaaah!!!!!
So I want to give them choice and I let Jack choose his plate first. He picked a plastic purple plate with green trim. I was going to give Jeff an adult/big boy plate. No, he wanted a plate like Jack. So I gave him the green one with blue trim. Good, both are satisfied with their plates, right? Wrong!
Jeff: "But, why does Jack E. get the purple one? I NEVER get the purple one"
(Jeff's new favorite complaint is..."But, I never get...." or " I never get to..." even though that's not true)
Back to the plate drama. This plate jealousy went on for about 5 minutes.
Jeff: "But, why don't I have a plate like Jack."
Me: "You do, it's just a different color."
Jeff: " No, I don't! I want one just like his. The same color."
Me: "Well, we don't have another plate just like that one. Yours matches his. They both have blue."
Jeff: "But, I want that one!"
Me: "Stop talking about the plate. You have french toast sticks and syrup and your milk, eat and appreciate what you have."
Jeff: ...BUT I want that plate. I NEVER get that plate.
He then took a break from the table and when he was done hysterically crying he returned. We had a short convo about his not talking about the plate anymore when he goes back to eat. Wanna guess what his first words were when he got back into his chair at the table? Bet you can't guess.
Jeff: " I really wanted that plate. Why does Jack E. get it?"
Off to his room he went, again hysterically crying.
After about 3 minutes or so I hear from his bedroom, "I calmed down."
He came back to the table, but had no plate and his french toast sticks were on the bare table.
Jeff: "Where's my plate?"
I explained that if he wasn't going to appreciate the plate he had, he doesn't get one at all. haha, mean mommy!
Jeff: "I'll preciate it. Can I have it back?"
Me: "We'll try again at lunch to have a plate and not complain about it."
Jeff: ok :(
The moral of the story:
appreciate (or preciate :) what you have, even if it is a plastic plate that's not the right color.