As I stand in the kitchen holding a bottle of wine and unable to locate the corkscrew, I wish I had a Samurai sword. That's right. A Samurai sword. I've seen people open champagne bottles with swords and right now I would try just about anything to get this bottle open. You see, the last few hours have been an absolute nightmare. So perhaps having a sword around is not such a good idea. Because I probably would have impaled myself by now.
We've all had this thought about our kids: It's a good thing I love you because I really don't like you very much right now. Right? Right?!
Or maybe I'm just a horrible person. Or a terrible mother. Or maybe your kids are still small and they haven't yet made you want to strangle them. Or your kids are perfect or whatever.
But mine are not.
Yes, they are cute, and kind, and smart, and fun, but they are also testy, challenging, nasty little back-talkers at times. Especially the big one. And when one of them gets going, the other LOVES to feed right into it.
It happens. I get it. But tonight was a battle of epic proportions between Teague and I.
It all started with homework. Well, homework is almost always what starts our battles. Every once in awhile we get away with a tear-free, no-yelling night of spelling words and timed tests, but there is typically some degree of tension. Teague doesn't want to sit still and can't focus for more than 30 seconds (thank you, ADHD) and he genuinely has a difficult time doing the work in an effective way (thank you, orthographic dyslexia). And I can't stand to be stuck at the table for 2 hours only to have to come back after getting Crews to bed and sit there some more. Not to mention, I just don't understand how you can NOT get things done in a timely manner (thank you, Type A personality).
Let's face it: Neither one of us is at our best during homework time. But tonight, after two hours of telling him to get back to the table, finding he had spent 10 minutes drawing on himself with a permanent green marker, seeing he scribbled out the comments I made to his teacher in his planner, and having him tell me I am awful because he never gets to do what he wants to do (Here, I would like to point out that we went to Jim N' Nicks, River Street Sweets, and the Aquarium today after school, which were all his choices), I was on the verge of tears.
And to be honest, at that moment, I really didn't like him very much. Now technically, I know it was his behavior I didn't like, but I was so frustrated that in the moment I couldn't make the distinction. And of course, I didn't tell him I didn't like him, but I sure did think it. A lot. Like maybe a couple hundred times.
In the end, he was responsible for scrubbing his green skin. He did not finish his homework. And he got served with early bedtime.
I got elevated blood pressure and a missing corkscrew.
So it's a good thing I love that kiddo more than anything in the whole world. Because if I had THAT thought THAT many times about anyone else, they would be history. And I guess I should be thankful we only have Nerf swords...
But mine are not.
Yes, they are cute, and kind, and smart, and fun, but they are also testy, challenging, nasty little back-talkers at times. Especially the big one. And when one of them gets going, the other LOVES to feed right into it.
It happens. I get it. But tonight was a battle of epic proportions between Teague and I.
It all started with homework. Well, homework is almost always what starts our battles. Every once in awhile we get away with a tear-free, no-yelling night of spelling words and timed tests, but there is typically some degree of tension. Teague doesn't want to sit still and can't focus for more than 30 seconds (thank you, ADHD) and he genuinely has a difficult time doing the work in an effective way (thank you, orthographic dyslexia). And I can't stand to be stuck at the table for 2 hours only to have to come back after getting Crews to bed and sit there some more. Not to mention, I just don't understand how you can NOT get things done in a timely manner (thank you, Type A personality).
Let's face it: Neither one of us is at our best during homework time. But tonight, after two hours of telling him to get back to the table, finding he had spent 10 minutes drawing on himself with a permanent green marker, seeing he scribbled out the comments I made to his teacher in his planner, and having him tell me I am awful because he never gets to do what he wants to do (Here, I would like to point out that we went to Jim N' Nicks, River Street Sweets, and the Aquarium today after school, which were all his choices), I was on the verge of tears.
And to be honest, at that moment, I really didn't like him very much. Now technically, I know it was his behavior I didn't like, but I was so frustrated that in the moment I couldn't make the distinction. And of course, I didn't tell him I didn't like him, but I sure did think it. A lot. Like maybe a couple hundred times.
In the end, he was responsible for scrubbing his green skin. He did not finish his homework. And he got served with early bedtime.
I got elevated blood pressure and a missing corkscrew.
So it's a good thing I love that kiddo more than anything in the whole world. Because if I had THAT thought THAT many times about anyone else, they would be history. And I guess I should be thankful we only have Nerf swords...
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