The Poke

As a mother of two young children I am always on the verge of insanity. Ask anyone with young children. It always seems like I am constantly going, cleaning, feeding, dressing, driving, helping, coloring, etc. And any minor annoyance can drive you insane. Let's take for example my name. No, not Angie, but MOM. It was so cute when they were so small and stated to say mama. It let me know they new me and loved me. Now, it's a whole different story. Mom, mom, mom, mom, mom, mom, mom, mom, mom, mom, mom, mom, mom, mom, mom, mom, mom, mom ,mom ,mom. Isn't that annoying? I think so. I want to change my name to Henrietta Snitchenfrazen some days because I know they won't be able to repeat it constantly. And the thing is, they don't do it when they have my attention of coarse, it's when I'm on the phone talking to someone or standing at the post office trying to mail something or already going insane talking to Dan about our plans for the weekend. I've finally got it though Emma's head that it makes me crazy and to please stop. I'm on the phone a lot for my job and I can't have her saying mom to me constantly why I'm speaking to clients. She finally did. You would think this would be good news but I'm sad to say that I don't know if it's ended up as I would have expected. She's started to poke me. Yes, poke. Instead of the constant mom, mom, mom, I get a poke, poke, poke, with her little bony finger in my side. So now when I'm on the phone I get a poked or when I'm checking out at the grocery store I get poked, even when I'm trying to sleep I'm getting poked. I really can't tell you if it's a step up or down but if you hear that I ended up in a mental institute you will at least know why.