Oh No He Didn’t!

¬†¬† ¬† When I am over-stressed with the kids, my husband just really doesn’t know the right thing to say. ¬†In fact, he quite often says all the WRONG things. I know he doesn’t do it intentionally — it’s just that he simply doesn’t get it! ¬†

¬†¬† ¬† Earlier this week, he had to travel for business to New York City. ¬†I, of course, was left to man the fort here at home. ¬†You might recall that I didn’t have a particularly good start to the week (i.e. — my son’s stubborn showdown before school). ¬†That very same day, my daughter had to put her own unique stamp on my stress level. ¬†She was so caught up in watching “Tom and Jerry” on t.v., that she pooped in her pants and told no one about it. ¬†Thanks to my bloodhound-like nose, I discovered her dirty little secret and proceeded to clean up yet another mess. ¬†(Do I have a shitty job or what??!!)

¬†¬† ¬† Around that time, I received a text from my husband telling me he was out to dinner with a client and asking me how the day went. ¬†I told him about my morning from hell in trying to get my son to school, as well as my daughter’s lazy crap in the pants story. ¬†His response back: ¬†“At least you don’t have to stay out late and drink like I do.”

¬†¬† ¬† I literally think steam blew out my ears when I read those words. ¬†At least I didn’t have to go out to a fancy dinner, have drinks served to me, and have someone else clean up the mess? ¬†Are you kidding me? ¬†Yes, I can see how that’s soooo much worse than cleaning smeared shit out of someone’s underwear!!!! ¬†Needless to say, I didn’t even bother to respond because I was afraid that my fire breath might just burn my iPhone. ¬†He felt bad the next day when I told him about it, but he still doesn’t understand how much of a stab a comment like that can be. ¬†When you’re stuck down in the trenches of motherhood, you need someone with whom you can commiserate. ¬†There’s a reason why they say misery loves company.

¬†¬† ¬† Do you have similar “Oh no he didn’t!” stories? ¬†How do you handle these moments with your spouse?

 

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Mommy Trumps Daddy

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¬†¬† ¬† You would think as much as my kids are with me, that they’d pass on any extra opportunities to tag along with me. ¬†However, it turns out to be quite the opposite. ¬†If they ever have a choice to pick hanging out with me over hanging out with my husband, they will pick me nine times out of ten. ¬†It makes me feel a little bad for my husband, because he doesn’t get to see them as much as me and loves to spend time with them. ¬†They are truly mama’s babies, though, through and through.

¬†¬† ¬† Just this past weekend, my husband was desperately trying to talk my daughter into going with him to run a couple of errands. ¬†He begged and pleaded and even promised her a lollipop in exchange for her company. Although reluctantly, she finally gave in and went with him. ¬†Later that very same day, I asked her if she wanted to come with me and didn’t even get a chance to tell her where we were going before she let out a very enthusiastic “YES!!!!” ¬†

¬†¬† ¬† It’s the same scenario with other little things like brushing my twins’ teeth at night. ¬†For whatever reason, they ALWAYS prefer that I brush their teeth over my husband. ¬†I don’t get it either, because my husband uses the half-ass super-quick lickity split method, whereas I take my time and make sure to get all the teeth, top AND bottom. ¬†I would think they would feel the need, the need for speed. ¬†But, no, they would rather argue over who gets Mommy to brush their teeth. ¬†

¬†¬† ¬† Now, don’t get me wrong — I LOVE that they LOVE being with me more than anyone in their little worlds. ¬†I know this won’t last forever, and they’ll soon be asking me to pick them up around the corner so no one sees them with me. ¬†I just know that it hurts their daddy sometimes when they are so eager to pick me over him. ¬†What can I say, though…I guess they just love me — they REALLY REALLY love me!

Morning From Hell

¬†¬† ¬† You know you’re not off to a good start when you’re ready to call it a day, and you realize that it’s only 9:15 in the morning. Unfortunately for me, this was how my Monday began today, thanks to the extreme stubbornness of my son. ¬†The little dude pushed every one of my buttons this morning, making both he and his sister late for school and me ready to lose my mind.

¬†¬† ¬† It all began with a ridiculous argument while my twins were brushing their teeth. ¬†Apparently, calling someone “poophead” is grounds for war. There was a standoff, followed by some tears, followed by some tattle-telling. ¬†My son was pissed that my daughter ratted him out, and therefore, refused to do anything anyone asked him to do from that point on. ¬†

¬†¬† ¬† My daughter was already in her coat and out the door before my son had even waddled down the upstairs hall to make his bed. ¬†Since our Wii is currently being repaired, I threatened to take away my only other bargaining tool — computer time. ¬†I was already about to count to three before he finally gave in and made his bed, but then he refused to come down the stairs to put on his shoes and backpack. When I told him that he’d just lost computer time, that pushed him right over the edge. ¬†He slithered to the floor like a snake and began to wail. ¬†Because my blood was about to boil right out of my skin, I had to walk out of the house to take deep breaths. ¬†We were already five minutes late for school. ¬†

¬†¬† ¬† Once I had regained a smidgen of my composure, I marched up the stairs to scoop my son from the floor, shoved his shoes on his feet, stuffed his arms into his jacket and dragged him and his backpack to the car. Several neighbors just stared at me in either horror or confusion, and I had to bite my tongue to keep from screaming at them to piss off. ¬†When we finally got to the school, I couldn’t get my son to take off his seatbelt OR get out of the car. ¬†By this point, my heart was racing, and I was sweating like a pig. ¬†For the love of God, what did I do to deserve this??!! ¬†

¬†¬† ¬† I had to unbuckle him and once again, schlepp him and his damn backpack all the way from the car to the nurse’s office to sign him in late. I had to laugh out loud when I got to the part on the sign in sheet that asked the reason for the tardiness. ¬†I wondered how I was supposed to explain the entire events of the morning in a tiny little two inch box. ¬†I simply wrote “LATE” and left it at that. ¬†If the nurse really wants to hear about our reason, I’d be glad to review the whole ordeal with her over drinks at happy hour….

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The Friday Smackdown

2005-06-26

¬†¬† ¬† Every Friday afternoon, my kids take a little science class at our park district. ¬†And every Friday afternoon, it has somehow become a tradition to chase and tackle their friends in the hallway after class. They call it “tag”, but it seriously looks like WWF with six year olds, only they’re laughing and smiling throughout the whole ordeal.

     When it first started, I used to try to play peacemaker and restore order between the rebels.  However, I soon learned that my voice was not even slightly detected amongst the madness before me.   I was simply background mumbo jumbo, and therefore, nonexistent.

¬†¬† ¬† Now when the smackdown begins, the other nannies, moms, and I just sit back and monitor from afar. ¬†We interject a word of caution here and there, but we basically just wait in anticipation for the inevitable moment when someone comes crying to us. ¬†We follow this up with an “I TOLD YOU SO!” response, which again falls on deaf ears, for they quickly shake it off and get right back in the game.

¬†¬† ¬† I’m hoping that all this aggressive behavior will wear off a bit when the temperature FINALLY becomes more consistently warmer. ¬†They are like caged animals ready to pounce because they don’t know what to do with all this built-up physical energy. ¬†I’m trying to be patient, but if I can’t set these children free soon, we’re gonna be banned from the park district, too. ¬†Just tack it onto our rap sheet…KINDERGARTEN’S MOST WANTED: ¬†The Nucking Futs Twins….

They’re On To Me!

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¬†¬† ¬† I’m beginning to think that my twins are suddenly on to me. ¬†The older they get, the more they see through things and understand way more than I anticipate. ¬†Kindergarten has definitely opened their eyes to the world around them, and, if you ask me, they’re getting too smart for MY own good!

¬†¬† ¬† Now that they are more aware of the concept of time, my standard “just a minute” phrase has taken on a whole new meaning. ¬†I used to be able to throw out that phrase as a distraction tactic, whereby they would become involved in something else and forget about what they wanted me to do. ¬†Lately, though, any time I say that to my son, he will literally stand there and count to sixty. ¬†He totally calls my bluff! ¬†

¬†¬† ¬† My husband and I also used to be able to spell a lot of words that we didn’t necessarily want them to hear. ¬†However, now that they are learning how to sound out words at school, they are picking up more and more of our “adult” conversations. ¬†My daughter listens so intently to our private exchanges and tries so hard to piece it all together, that I sometimes fear her head will explode. ¬†She has become very good at figuring out what we are talking about 99 percent of the time, too. ¬†Damn those kindergarten word walls! ¬† ¬†¬†

¬†¬† ¬† And now that they recognize numbers more readily, my son is constantly informing me of the speed limit when we’re driving. ¬†He always wants to know how fast I’m going and is quick to point out that I am, in fact, speeding. ¬†He has officially become my back seat driver. ¬†

¬†¬† ¬† So, thanks a lot, kindergarten, for TOTALLY ruining my game! ¬†You have taken away the effect of most of my tricks and trades and made my children wiser than even me at times. ¬†Guess I’m gonna have to dig deep and start figuring out some new mama magic….

Boy Crazy

2006-11-29

¬†¬† ¬† I’m wondering if I should be at all concerned that my six year old daughter already appears to be boy crazy. ¬†It seems to really work to her advantage that she can easily hang with the best of the boys and has never really been into all the “girly” type things like Barbies and dolls. ¬†She definitely has a good amount of girl friends, but the child has a rapid-growing fascination with the male population now, as well.

     It started back in the fall when she became completely head over heels for this super cute little boy who could melt your heart with his smile. He seemed to really dig her, as well, because he was always doing things to try to impress her.  During the presidential election, he even taught her a thing or two about gambling. Apparently, they decided to bet each other over the outcome, and when the little boy lost the bet, he made a xeroxed copy of a ten dollar bill to pay off his debt.  Nothing like a little illegal activity to win over my girl!  My daughter still has the counterfeit bill proudly displayed on the bulletin board in her room.

¬†¬† ¬† Then, of course, there’s the little Romeo who wooed her with the rose on Valentine’s Day, the boy who’s declared her “the queen of the playground”, the boy at the park district who thinks it’s the greatest when she tackles him to the ground, the boy who spontaneously busts out his stand-up routine every time he’s in her presence, the boy who spent his entire t-ball game dancing in the outfield to try to get her attention, and the list goes on and on. ¬†And, naturally, my daughter gives it all right back, batting those great big eyes of hers and laughing at all the appropriate times. ¬†If you ask me, it’s all just a bit too much flirting going on.

¬†¬† ¬† I’m not sure if I’m quite ready for her to cruise down the path to heartbreak and headaches just yet. ¬†This is my baby girl we’re talking about! These boys might be cute as buttons now, but we all know that soon enough they will be thinking with things other than their brains. Are there nunneries for six year olds???

What the Hell Were They Thinking?

¬†¬† ¬† Yesterday was one of those days when I found myself wanting to repeatedly shout, “What the hell were you thinking??!!” to my kids. ¬†Of course, I realize that this would have accomplished absolutely NOTHING because I already knew the answer to the question — they weren’t! ¬†

¬†¬† ¬† It began with my daughter stealing bringing home a large rock from one of her elementary school’s landscaping beds. As we were piling out of the car, I noticed her lingering just a bit too long behind the car. ¬†When I went back to see what the hold-up was, I saw her scraping the pirated rock along the back bumper of our car. ¬†My eyes must’ve been as big as cantaloupes when I focused on the scene before me. ¬†What the hell was she thinking??!! ¬†I immediately yelled in my meanest voice to stop what she was doing, which prompted all kinds of lip pouting and over-the-top waterworks. When I examined the damage, there was indeed a pretty decent-sized scratch right there in plain sight, giving me the old middle finger. ¬†I could not believe she would have the balls to do something so destructive to something so expensive! ¬†Now, I’m stuck with what type of punishment to give a six year old for vandalism. ¬†

¬†¬† ¬† Then, (as if that wasn’t enough) yesterday afternoon when I took the kids for haircuts, my son decided to use his allowance money to buy a plastic set of golf clubs to hit around the back yard. ¬†While I busied myself with the mail and checking email, he apparently decided to create his very own golf course right in the back of our house. ¬†The child actually got a freaking shovel from the garage and dug holes smack dab in the middle of the back yard. Again, what the hell was he thinking??!! ¬†We have enough trouble getting good grass to grow as it is because of all the gigantic oak and elm trees that shade our yard. ¬†And now, thanks to my son, we’ll have even more work cut out for us this year!

¬†¬† ¬† Two acts of wreckage in one day was a bit much for me to handle, especially when the offenders didn’t even have the slightest clue of the damage they had inflicted. ¬†My mind was filled with worry of what the future holds for us. ¬†Are my twins gonna be spray painting subways and slashing tires by the time they’re in middle school? ¬†God help me! Margaritas — please come to the rescue! Mama needs you now…..

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