There are two facts that are simultaneously true:
1. Mila is ALWAYS eating. I mean, ALWAYS. If I were to leave a buffet of food out on the table, she would be found stopping by every five minutes to grab a bite or ten.
2. Mila is waaaaaaay small for her age. She has been since she was four days old (she was born big and fell off the charts instantly), so -meh-. She's fine. She is growing on her own curve and it's a delightful and small curve.
You'd think those two things can't possibly go together, but there you are, they do.
Which, well, that's why I need the world to stop having opinions about the fact that Mila eats three breakfasts. She eats one at home before we leave, another one in the car on the way to school, and then a third once she gets to school. She's been living her life that way for all of her three years, so it would seem that people would be over it by now, but noooooope.
ANYWAY.
That leads to this morning's meltdown when we pulled into the daycare parking lot. Mila was actively working on Breakfast #2, a bowl of Froot Loops. (An aside, it annoys me that I spelled that "correctly." COME ON, KELLOGG'S.) Things happen and one moment led to another and Mila ended up dropping the bowl of cereal.
Into a puddle.
In the parking lot.
So, well, we have pretty loose rules about how long food can be on the ground and still be eaten (Simmer down, internet. The Five Second Rule is legit and just shoooooooosh.), that definitely qualifies as out of bounds. I said as much even as the little circles melted into nothingness.
Mila was like, "Oh, hell no. I'm eating that."
No, she wasn't.
Proceed right on to a fit befitting the most talented of three-year olds.
There was a lot of yelling and a few tears and Mila wasn't happy either. I drug her into daycare where she promptly yelled, "MY MOM ONLY LET ME HAVE TWO BREAKFASTSESSSSSS WAAAAAH!"
Guilty as charged, you guys. I am definitely guilty.
