I Am Not Your Servant

"Mah-ahm..." Chase called from his bedroom on the second floor. It was mid-afternoon and he was supposed to be having quiet time. I was fairly certain that Mark had fallen asleep.
   
"Oh, dear God," I thought. "Why isn't that kid asleep?" I dreaded the idea that he wouldn't nap, because that meant he'd be really cranky in the evening. Or else, he'd have a late nap, be cranky when I woke him up in the
evening, and then be up too late, and be cranky the next morning. He either needed to fall asleep in the next 15 minutes, or I'd have to dream up a way to keep him up through dinner and bath.

"Mommy?" he called again tentatively.

I considered ignoring him.

"Mommy!" I guess I considered too long.

"Yes, honey?"...I answered from the third-floor bedroom that I shared with Griffin. I called as loud as I could given that I was nursing Griffin and I didn't want to startle him.

"Mama!" He called again, a little louder.

"What is it?" I said, volume a little higher, in a singsong way.

MOMMEEEEE!

"Hmmmph!" I thought. I was not going to yell back so I hauled myself and Griffin up from the rocking chair and started down the stairs. Mark was sleeping (as Chase was supposed to be doing) in the next bed over, and I
didn't want his nap ruined.

"MA! MAAAAAAH!!!

Chase was obviously impatient that I had not yet answered him, and he either didn't know where I was or didn't care to get up and look.

"What is it, Chase? You can't be yelling like that! What is it?" I asked, somewhere between a whisper and a hiss.

"I'm hungry. No, I'm thirsty." He was probably just tired.

"Well, you can get yourself a cup of water in the bathroom, right?"

"No, I want milk. Chocolate milk. I'm hungry."

"Why don't you go downstairs and get yourself a cereal bar then." I was limiting the amount of milk he was drinking in an effort to further his potty training.

"No. I don't want that. And I'm watching a show. You go get me something."

"You surprise me!" (a losing proposition for me since usually the first several things I picked were rejects and I wasn't in the mood for running up and down the stairs with the baby, especially since he wasn't done eating.)

"Honey, you are perfectly capable..."

"No. Mommy. I don't want to miss my show!" He explained to me matter-of-factly, as if I was stupid.

"I am not your servant!" I huffed.

"What's a servant, Mama?" Big, angelic blue eyes.

"It's someone who serves, uh, who waits on you." I was losing steam.

"What's that, Mommy?"

"It's someone who's at your beck and call, someone who...oh, never mind..." sigh. "Well, honey, you can either wait, or you can get something yourself."

"I'll wait."

"Okay..." I had hoped that he would have chosen the former. I really wanted to help the big boys become more self-sufficient. Having a newborn made that
painfully obvious.

"How many more minutes?"

© 2006, Caroline B. Poser