Slooooow Motioooon.

              

Dear Diary, 


     I am *fairly* certain that I could have showered, taken a quick nap, and watched half of The Price is Right in the time that it takes my 2 year old to finish his grilled cheese sandwich. Let me also mention that the said sandwich is ONE SLICE OF BREAD. This is not a whole one cut in half, people. It's just one, measly slice, folded in half and grilled to perfection. But for some reason, this takes approximately 3,600 seconds to finish. Now, as frustrating as this is, I am thinking my child might be wise. I am wondering if it took me one hour to eat 6 ounces of food, I'd be in a bit better shape. But it just isn't worth it. 


     As I was feeding him this sandwich, I also included a few chips and artichoke dip. All of the sudden, the chips are gone and only a bit of dip remains...along with the entire sandwich. As I'm trying to feed him the sandwich, he hops up out of his chair and gets onto the table. I sneak in another bite. Then, as he's chewing that, he goes to the chair on the opposite end of the table. I lean over in an unnatural and uncomfortable position to try and crane my arm over far enough to sneak in yet another bite. Done. He wiggles his way out of the chair and under the table, where he finds an assortment of toys that would have probably caused major injuries if they were anywhere else on the floor downstairs. Finally, I put my foot down and tell him to sit in his chair until he finishes his lunch. *Sigh*. If I were rich, I'd probably just pay someone to feed my child. That, and teach my kids how to sleep through the night. Oh, and potty train. Stay tuned because I think I'm going to make a spreadsheet on how much I think stay-at-home-mother's would make per year if they got paid for how much work they do. Anybody have a guess? 


Sincerely, 


Me.