I’ve been feeling a little glum all day.  Mondays do that to me.  I think it has something to do with the fact that weekends are so short for my family, with my husband working Saturday and Sunday, and family time always drawing the shortest straw.  This morning was harder than usual because I had to drop my son off at daycare.  Usually that’s his dad’s job.  My son wasn’t upset about going or about me leaving him.  He just started playing as though I wasn’t there and I had to bend down and turn his head to make him say goodbye.  Maybe that means he’s adjusted well and fully engaged in playing there, but to me it felt like resignation.  “You’re leaving anyway, why fight it?”

The other difficult thing about Mondays is being back at work.  At the moment I’m doing the administrative part of faculty searches and tenure cases, and it’s somewhat humiliating to be filing CVs and research plans, knowing they could have been mine.  I know what it takes to be those people and I know I’m not willing to pay that price, but still.

I stopped at the grocery store on my way home from work to pick up a few snacks.  Comfort food.  What a redundant phrase.  Pretty much any food is comforting if you’re in a bad enough mood.  I bought sparkling water (trying to break that Diet Coke habit), popcorn, Cheetos (although they were on sale and the baked kind, so I felt a little less self-loathing about buying them), Cinnamon Toast Crunch, and Cocoa Pebbles.  The CTC was for my son.  He’s been asking for it lately. 

When I picked my baby up from daycare he told me he felt sick.  I said, I’m very sorry to hear that, what can I do to help you feel better?  He said he needed a treat.  This apple didn’t fall far from the tree.  I told him I bought him “Crunch Crunch” cereal and he literally skipped home.  We sat down at the kitchen table, he with his Crunch Crunch, me with my Cheetos, and snacked away.  Next we played Legos, then he asked to watch his new favorite “bideo,” The Incredibles.  He asked for some milk and yellow crackers (aka Wheat Thins) to go with it.  I obliged. 

Later, I half-heartedly offered him some leftover mac & cheese, knowing he wouldn’t be hungry for it after so much snacking.  I wasn’t hungry for it either.  My husband works on Monday nights and he eats leftovers from Sunday’s dinner, but I admit I don’t always share in that economy.  I just scour the pantry for snacks.  My son was playing with his plastic fruits and vegetables as I offered him bites of reheated macaroni, but he had a better idea.

“I’m going to make dinner, Mommy”

“Sounds good, what are we having?”

“Um, baw-aynas, and begetables.  Can I have a pan to cook them in?”

“Sure”

“A real one?” he asked, “And a spoon?”

So he cooked up dinner and after we ate our plastic fruits and vegetables, I got him ready for bed.  I let him sit in the tub so long his hands and feet were pruned and I let him wear his summer jammies even though it’s the middle of November.

I’ll do better by him tomorrow.  Put my foot down, make him eat real vegetables, get him to bed on time, and make him wear proper pajamas.  But today, there was just something about feeling like crap that made me want make my kid happy.