Bratitude
I know that I spawned these little people that share my life, but today I found myself wishing that I had something or someone else to blame for their behavior.
Alas, No. The reign of terror(s) began at 12:09, when the Circus spawnlings boiled forth from their classrooms, spewing complaints and demands. The popsicle vendor man wasn't in the park.
"Mommy, make the man magically appear with his cart full of overpriced frozen treats! Now!"
"Why can't you, Mommy?"
"Call him on his cell phone."
"You mean you have Santa's number on speed dial, but you don't know the popsicle man's number? Why? You should have it! It's important!"
On and on. Finally, we got to the van, without popsicles, and my son without one shoe. The three-year-old sent out a high frequency noise that I'm pretty sure crashed a plane over the Pacific Ocean when I attempted to place her in her safety seat with the five-point harness.
"I'm a big girl. BIIIIG! I am SIIIIIIX!"
I applied a quick elbow to her abdomen and attempted to muffle her shrieks with my shoulder as I dodged her flailing fists and knees while buckling her in. Once she was buckled, I leaped to a safe distance and staggered a bit at the electromagnetic blast of rage exploding from my van. Once my hearing returned, I noticed the other two staging a revolt.
"I sat in the back on the way here!"
"No, I did."
"No, me."
"No, ME."
"Mooooooooom!"
Sheeeeit. Let it be known that bickering makes me want to blow my diet, with all the calories coming from shots of something alcoholic. However, it was like, noon. No chance of blowing nothing, except maybe a gasket.
"You! There. You! Sit. I don't want to hear ANOTHER WORD."
"AAAAAAAH! SHE LOOKED AT ME!"
Oh my GOD. I can't believe he uncorked that little gem on me. I turned my own heat-ray beams onto the kids as the automatic door slid shut. I'm surprised they didn't have singed eyebrows or something.
At home, it was more of the same. Every thirty seconds, someone was whining or crying, or yelling "Mom!"
I made garlic bread, and the children who will not eat any bread crust were fighting over who got the most black parts on their (burned, whoopsie) slices. My youngest, fresh out of a shower, decided to adorn herself with buttery noodles as soon as I left the room.
No. Just, no. This is NOT the master plan. I specifically ordered well-behaved, mannerly children, with a good idea of which things are best to avoid, unless you want Mommy to go ballistic. Which one of you people got my nice children? Who are these monsters?
Then we tripped off, our hearts light (hah!) to Open House at the school. We visited both classrooms and held it together for the most part. I was having a hard time forgiving my oldest for her major league hissy fits until I saw her daily journal, where not one, not two but five different entries talk about how "My mom is so cool."
I am exhausted, mentally and physically. Please don't let this be a precursor of summer to come.
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Comments
LOL! I think our kids came from the same shop (sometimes). Though, when they do nice or cute stuff, or are asleep, you can always look at them and smile. And if you don't feel like smiling, you don't have to look at them while they sleep. Or something like that.
My 2 yr old loves to say "[insert name] did it"
Posted by: Judith | May 25, 2006 10:31 PM
Your good children! Ha, when you find them, let me know where they were hiding because my baby has whined my ears off today.
Posted by: Melissa | May 26, 2006 12:58 AM
Sounds like a full moon to me! Good to know that I am not the only one who has to occasionally place her elbow in the screaming toddlers' stomach as she screams bloody murder. I am always afraid that someone from Social Services is going to tap me on the shoulder. "Want'em? They're all yours!" Thanks for the laugh.
Posted by: Ashley | May 26, 2006 5:33 AM
Your post reminded me of days gone past. My children are a bit older than that now - but then that's a different story.
Have a wonderful summer.
And aren't you glad to be a cool mom?
Posted by: cassie-b | May 26, 2006 7:13 AM
This is when you visit that zen place, of you in a bikini, looking Fa-ha-bulous, under swaying palms, gazing at a turquoise sea. Vin Diesel is rubbing your back and never once complaining that his hands are tired, and it's his turn now. Even though HE'S not the pregnant one...whoops, sorry.
Bikini, turquoise sea, Vin...oh and a calorie-free cocktail, that is just as yummy and relaxing as a real one.
Just try not to say, "A little lower, Vin baby." I guarantee your kids will repeat that to your hubby.
Posted by: Jenn2 | May 26, 2006 8:01 AM
Congratulations. You have just described the hell that is my life on a daily basis.
Pass the (hic) margarita blender this way, please.
Posted by: Carmen | May 26, 2006 11:20 AM
It feels like inertia to me when my children act like that! My two year old is driving me insane with the potty. He is the opposite of most children, he wants to sit on the potty every 10 minutes! He was 35 lbs. You would think I would be losing weight by now.
I took him and my 9 yr old to the mall. I would rather deal with the 9 yr old complaining about being there then the two year old ripping the tags off all the clothes! And that war shreek!
School is almost out and I'm not looking forward to it at all!
Posted by: jenni | May 26, 2006 9:06 PM
lol...maybe it's a good thing only one of mine can talk yet :)
Posted by: Izzy | May 27, 2006 8:27 PM
I laughed till I cried reading this!!! Thanks so much for sharing!!!!
Posted by: Sheri Coleman | May 27, 2006 11:43 PM
What is that saying... when they're crabby put them in water... I let mine get soaked by the sprinkler today and they were much less crabby!! :)
::grin::
Posted by: Shelli | May 28, 2006 7:50 PM
Wow, thanks for that! I feel so much less alone. And I suppose I should feel grateful that MY 3-year-old only insists that she is FOUR. And gets on the bathroom scales to prove it. "See? I am FOUR now!" Yup. She weighs four.
Posted by: Belinda | May 28, 2006 11:34 PM
Oh, my gosh. I didn't know whether to laugh or cry, that is so my day, a lot!! You just throw in a 4th kid in a heavy infant carrier and it's my life. Right now the two middle children are in the bath tub playing with heaven knows what. Have to run, but hang in ther!
Posted by: Sarah Watkin | May 29, 2006 7:38 AM
Wow! That sounds like my house and my 3 little rascals...EVERY. SINGLE. DAY!!
I actually wrote one post titled "Calgon, take me away!" Remember that commercial for Calgon? I think we both could use some of those Calgon last week or maybe every day!! Not even sure what it is btw...is is bubbles for bubble bath?
Posted by: Waya | May 29, 2006 3:47 PM
ha.. my kids act the same way when the "popsicle man" drives around in his truck.. today I went and got a bucket of ice-cream.. within 5 minutes of dishing out their bowls, he went past..music blaring.. the kids cried and whined for his popsicles.. ha BRATS! .. of course they said I was mean.. Yeah, the meanest mom in the world & don't you forget it..now eat your ice-cream!
Posted by: brandi | May 29, 2006 7:35 PM
Everyone I've talked to seems to have this opinion of summer!
Posted by: dorothy | May 30, 2006 3:20 PM
Three thumbs up on this post. Absolutely hilarious.
In my house the wars usually start over tongue pulling...
Posted by: Jennifer | May 31, 2006 4:46 AM
Ugh. I share your pain. I fully intend to tell my kids that when the van plays the music it means its run out of icecream. Is that evil?
My eldest has just started the "arguing for the sake of it" stage - anything I say is wrong, or if I'm lucky I just get rolling eyes and a drawn out "I knooooooooooooooooow". Kids. Can't get on with them. Can't sell them on Ebay.
Posted by: Pewari | May 31, 2006 5:28 AM