My son Dominic is ten. For the past couple of years I have had to seriously monitor him when it comes to getting into the refrigerator and helping himself to juice, milk, chocolate milk and ice cream. This child will consume an entire bottle of orange juice in a short amount of time if you let him. There was a time when I thought he would prefer to live on a liquid diet.
However, he is no longer thirsty when you insist he have water.
You haven’t lived until you’ve discovered a pint of melted ice cream hidden inside another bag that was carefully hidden under the bed in your child’s bedroom. He wasn’t grasping that ice cream is frozen and it will melt. He knows that now.
To combat this, I have a small refrigerator in the basement so that I can take part in sales when apple juice, orange juice etc go on sale without having to totally police my son and his use of the fridge. I also have root beer and ice cream. Basically, this fridge holds three large bottles of juice I got on sale and a little carton of ice cream.
He’s allowed whatever he wants as long as it’s in moderation. He knows that he doesn’t have to ask as long as it’s within reason. I keep fruit in a basket on our kitchen table and a very easy to use Britta filter container of water in the refrigerator.
You can have a banana, but you can’t have four bananas.
Since he’s currently afraid of the basement and won’t go down the steps, this secret shall remain a secret until he’s older and more brave to go down there. Perhaps by then, he’ll have an understanding of self control. For now, he’s a kiddo being a kiddo.
I confess to hiding in the basement to enjoy a bowl of ice cream or a drink of root beer, undetected. I’m allowed because I am the mommy and this is my time. Hiding in the laundry room, sitting on top of the dryer. Alone. There is no shame.
So, for Valentine’s Day, I made cupcakes and other goodies to give to his grandmother’s. He has two grandma’s and a great grandma. My mom and his father’s mother and her mother.
I was putting the baskets together, which also included frosting the rest of the cupcakes. Dom asked if he could have one. He had already had three cupcakes by that time. I told him no and that these were for his grandma’s. He stomped off.
As soon as he was gone, I poured a half glass of milk. I then fled to the basement to sample a freshly frosted cupcake. I laughed at myself because I think this is hilarious and I also don’t think I am the only mother who does this.
Secret ice cream, secret root beer, secret cupcakes. My basement is full of secrets.