Chocolate Milk and Personal Space Don't Mix

After a full night consisting of refereeing fights, folding laundry, pulling Jake off of the side table many times, taking toys away as consequence for not picking up said toys, and just generally trying to deal with two kids who are sweet as sugar and then turn into Dr. Jekyll without a moments notice, all I wanted was a pedicure, facial, and shopping spree at Target to buy something just for myself.

But, since that's not in the budget... *sigh*...

I decided to settle for a mug of chocolate milk.

Chocolate milk *is* in our budget and not too much for me to ask for after making it through the evening as a good mommy (meaning I was super patient, didn't raise my voice too much, and no one got sent to time out, even though they deserved it, ahem, *KATIE*), right?

So I wandered into the kitchen (because the second I start walking anywhere with purpose, both kids are on me like butter on popcorn. Somehow they know I want to accomplish something and they need to be there to watch. And Katie will ask for help to go potty or for a drink of water, or for me to find lambie or bunny or another toy she could totally see if she would just go to her bedroom door and open her peepers... and Jake will suddenly need to be held and read to and will want to show me Chuck the Dump Truck for the 30th time that day.  But wandering just says that mommy is going to go to a different room and she's going to do something super boring and why don't we just play here till she comes back?) and pulled out a heavy mug. I mixed up a perfect concoction of milk and Ovaltine (which, incidentally smells a little off... it's a little reminiscent of the smell of kitty litter but it's hasn't gone bad... it's smelled odd from the start. Not yummy in powder form so I've stopped smelling it before I mix up my chocolate milk.)

I got everything mixed up and walked into the living room. The kids were still playing nicely about 8 feet away. So far so good!

But then... as I sat down... Katie looked over. And focused in on.my.mug. And Jake noticed she was looking. And so he looked. And then both of them came over to where I was getting settled in on the couch and they stood right in front of me, all up in my personal space (even though after becoming a mommy that seemed to shrink to almost non-existent proportions), and Katie asked me what I was drinking. Like 20 times.

And 15 times, I told her it was a mommy beverage.  By the 16th time I was still telling her it was a mommy beverage but had to stop the impulse to protectively hunch over my mug because that would have lowered it enough for one of the kids to get a hand around it and take it from me.

That wasn't informational enough for Katie and she kept asking. I stuck to my guns and continued to tell her that it was a beverage for mom and that it was mine to drink. (Insert scene from Lord of the Rings... Gollum and "precious" wouldn't be a stretch when considering my behaviour. I'm not proud of it looking back, but it was seemed perfectly normal last night.)

So then, after one more question from Katie:

Katie: Yes, but what IS it?

I finally just gave up on the hope that they would get bored and give up, and told her it was chocolate milk.

And got this:

Katie: Can I have some?

Me: In a bit.

Katie: But I'm really thirsty.

Me: Just let me drink mine really quick.

Katie: But I'm reeeeeeaalllllllyyyyy thirsty.

Me: One second honey... I just want to finish mine and then I'll give you some...

Katie (starting to look a little unhappy): But mommy, I am so thirsty and I really want something to drink!

Me:  Here.  Just drink mine.  (My "moment" was lost.)

Katie: But that's a mommy beverage and I can't drink that!

Me: Yes, it's yours. Take it.

Katie: Oh, but mommy, that's a mommy beverage! That's not for me!

Me: Take it. I'm not making you your own so if you want it, drink it.

Katie (with an angelic smile): Okay mommy!

Then I put Jake to bed, cuddled with Katie, held the mug for her in between drinks, and decided that I wish someone would invent a glass that would look like it was filled with water no matter what was inside. That way, I could sit down with a glass of chocolate milk without both kids wandering over to see what I've got before I even get settled, and wanting it.

Later that night, after I put Katie in bed and she was playing Make a Mess on my cell phone, I wandered into the kitchen and whipped up another batch of chocolate milk.  And drank it down before anyone could interrupt me again.  It was very good.  Because it was alllll mine.