My Day By The Numbers

by Ajike Akande

When one does the same thing day in and day out, one is bound to wonder how many times one says and does particular things. I decided to keep track for a day and here’s what I came up with.

• 7 – the number of bowls of cereal I prepared last night (and every night) for the morning. Z & G-Dog always have two bowls.

• 2.5 cups – the amount of rice milk wasted this morning, which may explain…

• 4 – the average number of cartons of Rice Milk the children consume every week.

• 1 – the number of bowls of cereal F-Jammie wasted this morning (and every morning) because “It’s soggy, Mommy!”

• 7 – the number of times I threatened to take breakfast away from the next person who got up from the table.

• 7 – the number of times I made empty threats undoubtedly contributing to my children’s awful habit of ignoring much of what I say.

• 3 – the number of times this morning Z yelled for me because F-Jammie & Mr. Lee were up to trouble

1. Mr. Lee was trying to shave his arms with my razor. Thank God he was unable to remove the protective cover.
2. F-Jammie got her hands on the milk and was seeing how much all the bowls could hold.
3. Mr. Lee was drumming on a stool with crayons. This concerned Z only because it was loud and he could hear the TV. It concerned me because the stool is now brown speckled.

• 2 – The number of times I kindly asked Z & G-Dog to watch their brother

• 1 – the number of times I yelled, “I thought I said WATCH your brother!”

• 0 – the number of times I apologized for being a totally unreasonable mother that expect the older children to watch their impulsive, wild, little brother.

• 1 – the number of times I licked my thumb and wiped the gunk off of Z’s face.

• 1 – the number of times I called out to Z, as he was walking into school, telling him to lick his finger and wipe off the gunk under his nose.

• 1 – the number of times I wondered if I am the most embarrassing mother ever.

• 2 – the number of Egg McMuffins I inhaled this morning on the way to the drop-in centre.

• Infinite – the amount of guilt I feel for still eating at McDonalds.

• Infinite – the amount of relief that I feel that my standards for what I put in my body versus what I put in the bodies of my children
• 1 – the number of times I made somebody’s jaw drop when I said that I have five kids including two sets of twins.

• 3 – the number of times I noted out loud that F-Jammie & Mr. Lee were playing really nicely on their own.

• 10 (at least) – the number of times I wondered if them playing nicely without my interference is an indication that they’re ready to spend their days away from me (their mother who has put her career on hold to be with her children).

• 5 – the number of times I said, “Okay, it’s time to go” before ending my conversation with another adult and making a move to leave.

• 3 – the number of times I pretended that I didn’t hear F-Jammie asking me for lunch. (Every single day with this “feed me” stuff!)

• the number of times I looked in the fridge, saw wine and wondered if it was too early to have some.

• 20 (at least) – the number of times I called one of my small humans “monkey” or “baba”

• 5 (at least) – the number of times I said, “I love you!” and “Who loves you?”