The minute I walk into another room, sit down to check my e-mail or put my yellow gloves on to wash the dishes I hear my name being called…”Momeeeeee!” Sometimes it’s repeated over and over again, typically from another room or even another floor.
Whatever it is my kids are calling my name for always seems urgent, although it hardly ever is. Sometimes they need help putting their hair up in a pony tail or finding something that’s lost. Many times they just want a snack. When they were younger I didn’t mind so much, I would stop what I was doing and swoop in to save the day. I knew they needed me and I was there for them. Fast forward a few years and this little habit they have is starting to really bother me. Many of the things they think they need from me can be done on their own. While others can wait, maybe, just maybe, until I am done in the bathroom (after all, they saw me go in there…).