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Weekend Brunch

BrunchI love lazy weekend mornings more than just about anything. They’re so different from a typical weekday morning.  On school days we all come downstairs at different times and grab whatever we have time for.  Jake can make things like toast or frozen waffles, so if Fiona happens to be downstairs when he’s there, she might get a hot breakfast.  But most of the time she prefers a piece of fruit or a handful of cereal.  If you don’t get ready in time for breakfast, I toss a cheese stick and some pretzels at you as we fly out the door.

Sometimes we have places to go on the weekends, but when we’re not setting alarms and rushing off anywhere, the kids get up and watch TV or play video games and let their grateful, lazy parents sleep in.  Eventually I get up, sometimes because the kids tell me they’re hungry and sometimes because The Ass decides that the kids are probably hungry and acts like a passive aggressive alarm clock, tossing pillows around and rearranging the covers until I can’t stand it anymore.

Then I sneak downstairs and hope that everybody else stays upstairs until breakfast is ready.  I love this quiet time, watching TV and making one of the few real cooked meals I make all week, with a set table instead of “Grab a plate!”

We alternate between the scrambled eggs-hash browns-bagels-veggie sausage meal, or pancakes.  Chocolate chip pancakes for me and Jake, rainbow sprinkles for Fiona, and banana walnut for The Ass if he can convince me to make a totally separate batter just for him (he usually can, I’m not that hard to convince, but I make him do it anyway so that he won’t take it for granted after all these years).  If we have enough fruit for fruit salad, then I make a big fruit salad that Jake will eat the strawberries out of, and we won’t care because we’re happy he’s eating any kind of fruit.  If Fiona comes downstairs before breakfast is ready, the fruit salad is her job.  She eats half of it before it ever gets to the bowl.

Every once in a blue moon I’ll convince them to let me make something else, like French Toast or omelets or muffins, but generally we stick to the usual stuff.  The Ass will bring his crackberry to the table and we’ll have a back-and-forth about how wrong it is for him to read the news during one of the few times all week we all sit down together, and he’ll claim that he’s paying total attention to us, and we’ll all vote on whether he should have it at the table or not.  Jake always sides with me, and Fiona always sides with her Daddy.

Just when Jake thinks he’s going to get away from the table without having to take his vitamin, Fiona remembers them and looks right at him with a devilish look as she yells “Vita-mints!”  He glares at her as he chews his, and he shudders as he swallows it down.  Fiona savors hers.  Gross.

After the kids are done, The Ass and I are left to have a little quiet time together, and I can’t help needling him one more time about reading at the table.  Then I start to clean up and sigh a little, knowing we’ll be back to the normal morning rush soon enough.

Now that choir is out for the summer, we’ve got double the chances each week for a lazy weekend brunch.  Definitely my favorite time of the week.

Originally posted on Selfish Mom. All opinions expressed on this website come straight from Amy unless otherwise noted. Please visit Amy’s Full Disclosure page for more information. Amy also blogs at Filming In Brooklyn, Behind the Screen, and the NYC Moms Blog.

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