You know when you cave in to your kids because you want them to feel all warm and fuzzy, but you know, in the dark recesses of your brain that what you are about to do is a very bad idea? Yeah. Well. That happened to me this morning.

And what was this horror you ask?

PANCAKES

My children love pancakes. But for Noah, pancakes are like crack. He loves them. All of them do really. Perhaps it’s the sticky gooey syrup. Perhaps it the carbohydrate goodness that can soothe and comfort. Perhaps it’s the sugar rush they get from it. I dunno. I do know I don’t make them too often. Why? Well now I remember.

First of all, it’s messy. I mean messy in a pancake batter dripped on my stove, eggs shells in my sink, double griddle pan dirty, Bisquick flour all over the counter kind of way. Sticky plates on the kitchen table, syrup drips on the table, crumpled napkins that have fallen on the floor kind of messy.

Second of all, it takes a lot of time to cook pancakes for four people. Although really, it’s just the comparison of popping the frozen ones into the microwave versus slaving over the hot stove that puts it into perspective. And as my kids point out.. the microwave ones do not taste near as delicious!

Thirdly, could I cook pancakes for just my kids and not partake of them myself? No, I think not. And pancakes make me feel all bloated and icky after I eat them. Cause of course I can’t just eat one. One would be ok, but 4… not so much!

Fourthly, and most importantly, they sugar up my kids. After they were done eating, without even missing a beat, they were playing chase in the house. As they ran up the stairs pulling down each other’s pants as a joke… I stopped them to explain that this was the very reason mommy doesn’t like to make pancakes. That they act like ANIMALS after they eat them. And perhaps, if they would like pancakes in the future, they needed to try in their little 7 year old brains, to exhibit a bit of self control.

Noah smiled.
Dinara said “sure mom.”
Emma said “you bet!”

And then, with impeccable self control, they walked up the stairs to their rooms to go get dressed. And I will admit, I surprised it was only 4 minutes before someone was screaming about someone being in their space, not keeping their hands to their selves.

And then a mere 30 minutes later… Dinara in a fit of uncontrollable glee, erased Noah’s 3 months of work Lego Star Wars game from the Game Cube. She doesn’t really understand what she did. Noah was inconsolable. He was angry not only at the loss, but at the fact that his sister couldn’t grasp the long term consequences of what she did by obliterating his game. So his pain felt completely invalidated. I suggested to him that perhaps we could copy Daddy’s game to his name, was not much comfort because he had gotten farther then Daddy. He just kept saying “I worked so hard on that game!”. His pain was palatable I tell ya.

And with the evil eye, he looked at me with a very serious look and then looked at his sister, contemplating the horror of what had just happened. And as he slowly turned back to me with his deep brown old soul eyes and he said with all seriousness “This is all because of the pancakes isn’t it?”

I didn’t say anything; I just gave him a hug while he cried.

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