Gratitude

Tonight I was very disappointed in Carson. Oftentimes on Wednesdays we get fast food after we pick the boys up from religion class. Both my boys, like me, are into routines and patterns and don't like for things to change. However, that did not excuse Carson's tantrum in the church parking lot when he found out I was making quesadillas for dinner and that he would not be getting Cane's chicken fingers as he had hoped/expected. If Child Protection Services had heard him they would have immediately arrested me for abuse; his screams were racked with intense pain and dejection. I was declared the Worst Mom Ever. EVER! Seriously? For quesadillas? It's not like it was tuna casserole or spinach; kids are supposed to like quesadillas. They even have them on kids menus. I was so disappointed with Carson's selfishness and drama (in the church parking lot, no less) that I was stunned into silence. This whole "stunned into silence" bit happens very rarely with me. There were so many thoughts running through my head that I didn't know what to express first. In my classroom every day there are students whose only meals are those that they get at school, either because they have families who cannot afford food or they don't have a responsible, independent, adult at home to even buy food for them. Some of my students are 18 and therefore able to be on their own legally speaking. However, I still wish they had someone to mother them the way they should be mothered. If I gave some of them quesadillas they would be grateful. I hope that today was just a bad day for Carson and his ungrateful, spoiled, response doesn't repeat itself. He has a big heart and I want him to realize that him not getting Cane's does not make me a bad mother. I want him to understand that he is lucky to have a mom that feeds him and even makes home-cooked meals for him. I want him to understand that I love him no matter what but that we are a very blessed family and to have food on his plate is a good thing, whether it's Cane's or mommy's quesadillas. I pray that I can guide him to being more grateful and less indulged. I pray that I can help him be more aware of those around him and less self-centered. And if you're going to call me The Worst Mom Ever it better be about something more valid, like homework and cleaning your room, and not about quesadillas.