Grahamism | Corn Pops

Two years ago, Graham spent the day with my mom-in-law. The girls and I spent a fun day doing absolutely nothing. To this day, I make to-do lists for the event that I am short a child, but my motivation goes out the window as I wave goodbye. I throw my pj pants back on and throw the list in the trash.

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I did prep for a yard sale at my mom’s house…aka “The Weekend When That Woman From My Mom’s Neighborhood Tries To Talk Me Down On Every Single Item”…to help pay off some of Adelaide’s medical bills.

It was a pretty uneventful day. I nursed Bess every 90 minutes, changed cloth diapers, and then Graham came home right before dinner.

“Adelaide, I misseded you so much. I can’t even tell you how much I misseded you, because it was so much.”

So sweet.

“Elizabiff Mae, I love you so much and I want you to wake up and tell me dat you love me, too. You are so beautiful.”

That is too precious.

“Mama.”

“Yes, Graham?”

This is going to be good.

“Don’t eat all my Corn Pops cereal from Grandma Linda.”

Only 4 years old, and he had unearthed a parenting secret centuries old: Moms eat all the good cereal after their children go to bed.

It’s one of the saving graces of being a mom. Cereal and tv with the captions on. No one grabbing your spoon, begging for a taste. Just you, Corn Pops, and Detective Hathaway.  Solving crimes at Oxford.

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