I awoke one morning to Henry poking me in the back. Rayne had been taking care of him while I “slept in” (read: 8 a.m.). I rolled over and focused my eyes on a package of Clif Shot Bloks, a runner’s source of nutrition that doubles as my morning caffeine. (I am of a rare breed of human who dislikes coffee.)
“Mommy’s vitamins?” he asked, shoving the package in my face. Clearly, he had internalized the unspoken lesson that Mommy would get out of bed only after ingesting two cubes of sweet, caffeine-y goodness.
I was chastened. But the combination of mothering and working has gotten the best of me, and I can’t get by without a jolt or two per day. Anyway, is caffeine really all that bad?
Deb is a freelance writer and mom. She lives in the Bronx with her husband, toddler son and a sweet but neurotic corgi. She blogs regularly at Urban Moo Cow, a place for thoughtful analysis of modern parenting ~ with a side of humor.