Cake Crisis! 

No one ever said being a mom was a piece of cake. Being a mommy of four, I whole heartedly agree. Cowboy is my stubborn little red-headed guy. He is Mommy’s boy and very lovey dovey. My cuddlebug! My oldest, Kitten is queen bee. She rules over her bothers and is a great big sister and a wonderful daughter. Archer and Colt are my twin boys. As long as Archer gets to play video games and escape Cowboy a few times a day, he is perfectly happy. Colt is my grumpy guy. He is non-verbal and gets around in a wheelchair. As long as he has his nurses to fawn over him, he is content. They are a handful and keep me hopping, but I would not change a thing. They are my world.
So, yesterday was my birthday. As a mommy, it was basically like any other day. I did get some birthday well wishes, a few I love yous and as a plus, my four kidlets were a little more well behaved then they usually are. A few months ago, I got a heath scare. My blood tests came back pre-diabetic. Anyone who knows me, knows needles are my number one phobia! I was determined to work hard and bring my number down to something healthier. After three months, I got my wish. No more pre-diabetes! So now, I am still working at living a healthier lifestyle and am steering clear of sweets and junk food. 

This new diet is working for me. I am down almost 40 pounds, and feeling better. My five-year old is not so happy for me. Cowboy, is a big fan of food. Hot, cold, salty, sweet, he is there! Knowing about birthdays is still a little confusing for him. He has been telling me for almost a week now that it is March and his birthday. Poor guy really loves attention. One thing he does understand about birthdays is that you sing “Happy Birthday” and you get cake. As I was the birthday girl, I had decided to skip cake this year. My older kids are aware of my diet and not huge fans of cake anyway, so they knew that we were going cake-less. No one thought to tell my little Cowboy.

Last night he was super hyper and asked when I was making the cake. I tried to explain that mommy was on a special diet and can’t have cake. It has lots of sugar and we were just going to have a nice dinner instead. He was not a happy boy! His first words were, “But it’s not a birthday without cake!” I tried to calm him down, but he is stubborn. According to him, all birthdays must have cake and we have to sing “Happy Birthday”. I assured him that it is still a birthday without cake. Mommy is still turning a year older and that we can still sing together. This was not good enough for Cowboy. After giving him a few seconds to think about it, I asked if he wanted to got get his brothers and sister so that they could still sing to me. He was not letting me off that easily…

He told me that its only a birthday if there is cake and we sing. Sometimes arguing with Cowboy is like trying to tunnel through a brick wall will your bare hands. He kept saying this over and over. I asked him why we needed a cake so badly to make it a birthday. He finally found the words to explain his way of thinking. All this time, he though that we sing “Happy Birthday” to the cake! So, in his mind, cake is a must for it to be anyone’s birthday. 

He is now determined to ignore that it was my birthday and that he has still not sang the birthday song to me. It did not however, stop him from crowding me in my chair and cuddlebugging me within an inch of my life. Have you ever been mugged by a five-year old? That is Cowboy’s way of cuddling. Mad cuddling is so much worse! He is not a tiny guy anymore, and I am slowly losing my extra padding. I love my cuddles, but they are really getting very violent!

This morning, Cowboy is still mad and still demanding cake! So for now, until the next Cowboy crisis, I am keeping a low profile and trying to find ways to sneak in some ‘me’ time. Wish me luck!

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Author:

Hi, I'm Mags. I'm stay at home mommy of four. I cyber school three of my kids (yes I am crazy!), and my one son goes to a special class for children with multiple disabilities. It's a crazy, chaotic life, but it's my life.

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