The Story of Children When The World was Fat and Busy

The essence of a stay at home mom, is the life lead in the kitchen.
You get to leave, you do, by driving to the store to restock the kitchen,
and to pee.

~ Men, this is why we spend the largest portion of income designing
and decorating this room, why the view must be grand, why the walls
are quite logically bright yellow or ocean blue or pink, yes, let's do pink,
(these colors keep the insanity at bay) because we live there.

Breakfast ~ morning snack, lunch ~ afternoon snack, dinner ~after dinner
snack, bedtime snack, no there is no bedtime dinner! Two steps out
of the bedroom, "Mommy, can I have a glass of water?" It's the Walton's
here, "me too" echo's three more times through the hallway.

Heh. Just when you think you've gotten away, they pull you back in.
~The Godfather

I should have had my bed in the kitchen. I could have upped my
productivity by 25%. But then I would not have had this tale to tell.

I'ts early morning and I am asleep, as asleep as any mother of four young
children could be, eyes shut, and one ear open. This day it was my nose
that was on alarm duty. It caught a whiff of gas in the air. A wafted whiff,
that traveled straight up the steps of my two story Victorian homes'
stairwell.

Eyes slam open, vaulting out of my water bed, tearing down the steps,
sliding a uey around the corner into the kitchen, I see my two year
old daughter, sweetly perched upon the counter, in her diaper and
nothing else but a wooden spatula in her hand. Pot on the stove top,
cupboard door open, ignition knob turned to on.

"Good morning Mommy" she says proudly grinning at me. "I'm making
breakfast."

"Awe baby, whacha' cookin' there? I walk over to the stove, after
returning the chair from the counter to it's rightful place at the table
across the room. Kissing her gently on the forehead, turning off
the knob, I peer inside the pot and see, salt, pepper, oregano, garlic
and cinnamon....

*mental note ~ find benches, bolt to the floor asap.

This happened eighteen years ago, somehow, we are all still alive and
Hannah Muffin then, called Muffin, or just Nanners now, is learning to
cook with all sorts of pans, utensils, spices and even food.

I love you Sweetheart, because of you, this book has become a reality!

~Isa