Spaghetti and Mommy Blues

Tonight is spaghetti night.  

Thanks to my ex-husband, let's call him the Silent One, who is somewhat remarkable in the kitchen,  we get to skip meat loaf for dinner.  

The kids were so excited to see spaghetti that you'd think I am starving them.  Noah was hovering at the bowl while cheese was being sprinkled and Alex, my dear Alex, managed to lick the sides of the bowl where the sauce was accidentally smeared.  

alex hugging the spag with noah beside her

How come they never do that when I cook?  in fact, if I remember correctly, they ordered bread when they saw me cooking in the kitchen and managed to skip the breakfast that I, their mother dear, so lovingly prepared for them.  The brats!  

I like mommy duty except that I suck at it sometimes.   I have certain moments where I can hear Kira doing his weird noises downstairs while I am hiding at the studio.  He has this habit of looking for me when I don't want to be bothered.  He is a version of the BWL.  In fact, he is a mini BWL.  Curls, eyes, timing and all.  And he is insistent.  Too insistent for my patience sometimes, that I get scared to see him, so sometimes I opt to hide away.  Nothing wrong with being non-confrontational.

Also, I find it weird how the kids want to drag me to their bedroom just so I can see them jump up and down the mattress.  So for 2011, I have decided to work on getting a new and better mattress for my bed.  So the kids can jump up and down on it without me having to go downstairs.  You see, My room is on the second floor and it is kinda tiring to go up and down to see a jumping escapade.  They can just do it in my room. I can pretend I am watching them while I doze off and then they can stop when they hear me snore.  Brilliant plan.

Another thing that I don't like them doing is they tend to have this need to be heard...at the same time.  All adamant about getting their point across and bawling out when you get them wrong.  Imagine four kids talking to you at the same time at a decibel that is hurting your ears.  

Like with the spag meal, they want it and they want it now.  They have their own reasons why you should choose to serve them first.  What I did was make them take their own share.  

They are also very strict in terms of measurement.  God forbid that you put more coke in one child's glass while the others are staring.  Alex, the ever so clever one, got the cup with calibration printed on it, you know, the one you use for baking (?). Seeing this, Leon decidedly grabbed his milk bottle, that one has calibrations too...and of course the other two followed.

The good thing is, I think, they get my frustrations sometimes.  

When I just want to hear my own thoughts, and they feel like mommy wants to rest and maybe sleep forever--- not the sleep-death-forever-thing...the sleep-rest-almost-dead-but-still-a-good-mom-thing,  they just let me lie down on their bed while they watch the barnyard animals (or spongebob).  They've seen it a hundred times and could even tell me the story.  They tell me a lot of things and when they see me confused and grinning --- that often makes them happy.  They shush me if I become too opinionated because the teddy bear is sleeping.  It's a way of telling that I need not be stressed.  It's apparent in the looks they give each other.

But they are not without cunning.

They try to gently fish for prizes that I am not offering.  Like Leon telling me what happy meal toy I will get him if he decided to ditch the cartoon show and sleep.  

They make small talk about monster trucks, cartoon shows, and lately, harry potter.  

That's them trying to cheer me up when I am kinda tired.  Still a handful,   but nonetheless affectionate.  And because they are very considerate children to their weary mother, they silently elbow each other instead of bawling.

It is fortunate that in their young age, they have learned the fact that food is a category they cannot primarily discuss with me.  Actually it's cooking they don't discuss with me, lest I take on the idea that they want me to cook for them.  They urge me to order take out, mcdo is a favorite.

They have accepted the fact that their mom cannot cook anything and spaghetti is just not happening if I am in charge of the kitchen.  Noah offered to cook with me the one time I was left alone with them.  Te neng was out and Long-long was in school.  She was reassuring me that she is an expert in frying eggs.

They do know I am good with the camera though.  

And in that, they are very demanding.  So what do I do when good food is served? I take a photo.