Just Call Me Agnes

Okay, I don't want to diminsh the reality of the figures by relenting to my weakness for gross exaggeration, so I won't use any number in the millions or anything, but I'm pretty darned sure I heard the word "Mommy" about 100,000 times today.

See, today was Ben's birthday which meant I had a cake to make and let me tell you this was no simple cake. He had very specific requests: a banana ice cream cake with bananas on it as well as Scooby and the Gang being scared by a ghost. Go find THAT at your neighborhood grocery, I dare you! So I had a cake to create which meant roughly 8,000 steps since it involved ice cream and marzipan and chocolate and delicate timing and my heavy duty mixer which still hadn't been unpacked and was hidden in some unmarked box (boxes, it turned out) somewhere. Which meant that all the kids went NUTS today.

I promised Ben he could open a present in the morning, so obviously he shot like a bloodhound straight for the one that proudly boasted its 330 pieces and need for assembly. So first it was "Mommy can you help me? Mommy look what I did!"

Then the brothers picked up on the siren call of 330 pieces of plastic not belonging to them, so then it was "Mommy! They're ruining it! Mommy! They're making me not build it! Mommy!" As well as "Mommy, um, Mommy, on my buffday I wanta builder contapshun!"

"Mommy, can we watch something on TV?" (Always asked at the beginning of some involved and delicate bit of cakery)

"Mommy, you can't say that to me!"

Mommy, drink, Mommy snack, Mommy here's the word that just passed through my brain three seconds ago that I have to tell you for some reason, and Mommy let me tell you about me telling Mommy about talking to Mommy Mommy Mommymommymommy mommmmmmmmmmyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY!

And then my brain exploded (okay, there's the gross exaggeration. So sue me!). I couldn't bear the thought of hearing that word one more time. So the next time Joshua addressed me, I gave him notice that my name was not Mommy but Agnes. Just call me Agnes! And you know what? It worked! Josh was only too happy to call me Agnes, but with his speech impediment it came out "Egginess" which gave me a giggle every time and lightened my mood considerably. But not enough that the children were entirely out of danger from The Voice. I'm pretty sure you've all heard my The Voice, but I don't think you've heard it in full force. It's exhausting, frankly.

But thankfully the cake was pretty much done by then, so the remaining fragments of my brain managed to get the boys pulled together for lunch at McDonald's. That is, I ate lunch. The boys played on the whatsit and occasionally checked in for a bite or two. And this was FINE by me. Just the ticket, in fact. And since it was after one when we got there, we were all alone, so the pressure was REALLY off.

Not much point to the story. But I know I'm not the only one to be addressed by parental title 100,000 times in one day, so I thought I'd share the goods - just have them call you Agnes!

I suppose I should drop in a word about Ben's birthday - it was fun! This was the most aware he's ever been of it, so it was fun to have a bit of a to-do. I can't believe he SIX! It seems like such a pivotal birthday for some reason. Maybe because it's the first one I remember. At any rate, he had a great buffday.