Saturday, July 30, 2011

I need a freezie mommy

I can't wait to be done that box of freezies.  There are less than ten left in the box, mostly white ones because until recently my son thought white meant "no flavour".  Everyday my daughter tiptoes up to me and informs me in her sweet voice that she needs a freezie.  If I refuse, which I usually do after the third, forth, or tenth freezie, then the sweet voice changes into the whining, crying, yelling, sound of  a self-entitled toddler.

William always asks for a freezie thirty seconds to a minute after Jadzia asks for one.  This is exactly enough time for me to get back into whatever I was doing before only to be interrupted again.

The freezies are small, basically sips of sugary juice frozen in narrow plastic sleeves.  This is how I rationalize giving them large quantities of sometimes food.  I tried to limit them to two freezies at a time, but I the strength of my resolve is no match for a two-year-old's tantrum. In the time it took to write the first paragraph I had served out five freezies (two to William, and three to Jadzia).  My daughter is currently throwing herself on my lap in whiny desperation, because I haven't responded fast enough to her request for another.  Ah well, the more she eats, the faster they will be gone.

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