Was I a Better Mom Before I had Kids?

I found myself cooking dinner the other night, and my three-year-old desperately wanted my attention. My 20-month old ALSO wanted my attention, and they made what seemed like countless laps between their toys and the baby gate barring them from our kitchen to see what I was doing, but moreover, to why I yet again wasn’t playing with them.

At one point Cole (3) started to whine and I caught myself saying (to a human who is only three) “You can see I’m busy right now, I’ll come play when I’m done”. It wasn’t the worst thing anyone has ever said to a toddler, I’m sure, but it also was not a kind way to say what I wanted to say. He doesn’t understand that dinner requires preparation. He doesn’t understand that dishes need to be washed so they’re clean next time we use them. He also doesn’t CARE about that stuff. He cares about playing blocks or cars with his Mom.

I was ALWAYS good with other people’s kids so it seems hard to swallow for me that I could be so tone deaf with my own children. I can’t have my kids in the kitchen while the oven is on, true, but I also don’t have to be in the kitchen while its cooking. I lumped several tasks together for convenience sake, but it was a trigger for my irritability to be interrupted. I needed to change somethings around.

Some changes I made were to wait to cook oven items until Alex gets home, and so they can hang on him while stuff is cooking. That way I can prep the food without the baby gate and they can come hang out beside me as I chop stuff up. It means Alex doesn’t necessarily have dinner waiting when he gets home, but he’ll survive, and now our kids can have me around too.

Another thing I’ve been doing is moving some of my late-day cleaning tasks to tail my am cleaning stuff. I still need to vacuum twice and wipe down surfaces twice, but dishes and laundry are done early.

I know this is coddling, and to be super f$%king frank, I don’t care. My kids are tiny, and I can’t live with myself knowing I showed more kindness to kids I nannied for that I show my own little bastards. I’m not a monster.