It never fails. I can go all morning without ever seeing my six year old. Sometimes I think I might not even have a child. She is so immersed in her life that I am just a mere second to the fantasy world of webkins, Bratz, Disney TV and the mysteries of her bedroom. A thousand times I can call her name with no response. After searching frantically for her, I get the usual, "I didn't hear you" after which any other "Mom attention" is quickly diverted to the task at which she is currently working.
Sometimes, I wonder if the floor just opened up and swallowed me before her eyes if she would even take the time to wave good-bye. Alas, I have found the magic wand to cure what could have been years of being ignored by my children. Just let that phone ring. Whatever was the latest pressing engagement for my six year old can now take the back seat. Mommy has a phone call. How dare she not be thinking of me every second! Who could possibly be more important than me? Of course, I am immediately inundated with demands, screaming and crying and what seems like World War III happening in my office. Where was my sweet, innocent six-year old when I wanted to have some Mommy time with her?
The incessant whining picks up pace as the phone call lingers. The tugging at my arm almost pulls me off my seat. What could be so important I wonder. I try to ignore the desperate sobbing that I now hear coming from underneath a blanket parked beside my chair. The relentless kicking which vibrates the floor begins to get on my last nerve. As I desperately try to talk to the person on the other end of the line, I realize that this might just be a real emergency. What if this were the one time I didn't pay attention and the house burnt down. After all, I have to be mindful of the time my daughter tried to tell me the microwave was on fire while I was on the phone. I dismissed this as an attention grabbing tactic. Needless to say, the entire kitchen was full of smoke from two buttermilk biscuits that were burnt to a crisp. With this picture fresh in my mind, I decide to end my phone call.
As I rush out of the office screaming my daughters name, I see her calmly sitting in front of the television enthralled in the latest episode of Hannah Montana. I ask her what is causing her to break down in hysterics and she answers, "Nothing mommy, I am trying to watch TV." Did I just imagine that tirade of pathetic proportions aimed at getting me off the phone? I think not. What's a Mom to do? ring...ring...ring... Gotta go.
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