And the Oscar Goes To....

Having a dramatic child has it's pros and cons. Pros? Please see the videos below. Good stuff. While it's mostly entertaining, the flip side is that the bad times come with just as much drama as the good times. Case in point....this morning. Reese was raised on grits. You aren't born into a Southern family without an early introduction to a bowl full of hot ground corn. While most think of grits as breakfast we like them so much that we do them for dinner. Yea, I know, we're crazy like that! You've got the back story now so I can tell you about my morning.... Woke Reese up to get her ready for school and asked her, as I always do, for her breakfast order. "Grits with butter & cheese". I wasn't surprised. She "orders" the same breakfast at least 2 mornings a week and usually eats most if not all of it. I didn't expect this morning to be any different but homegirl likes to mix it up on me. The antics began after bite one. Gagging, heaving, and fake sobs to let me know that she didn't like it. Really? You don't like it? The same breakfast that you've been eating since you knew what food was. The same breakfast you just special requested. The same breakfast you ate every bite of two days ago. It's GRITS we're talking about here. Here's the thing, I've seen the act before. I dread it when she decides to reenact it. It sucks, actually. She gags and refuses to eat and I get angry because the last thing I want to do before I've had my coffee is to come up with consequences (plus, the site of regurgitated grits is pretty sick). I start in with the "you're not going to school without breakfast" deal. And really, let's face it, that's Mommy's act (and you wonder where she gets her skills!) I can't not send her to school because that means I'm punishing myself. I'm stuck at home with a pissed off almost-5-year-old who is hysterical because I kept her home. Not cool. Per usual, my threats didn't work and she ended up not eating the grits and still got to go to school. We packed up 15 minutes behind schedule and she ate a pop tart on the way. I know, Mother of the Year. My trophy is on the mantle. Most of my threats are idle, I readily admit it. The one I'm counting on is this; when I say that her "little" brother is going to outweigh her soon I can say it with confidence. It will happen and it will happen soon. He's almost halfway there. She better put down the microphone and eat her grits. I'm just sayin'! And can I also say, there is no better way to end the day than greeting the grandparents at the door. Well, that and a little regurgitating sesh of my own in the form of this blog. Oh, and the Bud Light keeping me company ain't so shabby either. Thanks for reading.