Yesterday was a bad, bad day. D was removing photos from my computer so I couldn't access phone numbers to call and do interviews or edit my articles or blog here to decompress.
It began when I picked up N from her sleepover. We walked into our home and within 2 minutes she came to me holding her camera.
"Look!" she said, holding it out to me.
"What?" I replied.
"The batteries aren't here!" she responded.
"And?"
"YOU have to go back and get them!" she said full of ire and snot.
Uh-uh sister. I don't take commands from a 10-year-old whom I just drove home from said sleepover. A 15-20 minute drive that I just.made.
I could blame her tone on tiredness or the inevitable fall from having fun to resorption into "real boring life at home" (I seem to remember that feeling when I was a kid post-sleepover at friends' houses).
On the drive home, I had told her she needed to take a shower and clean up her room when we got home. So I told her that once she had taken her shower and cleaned up her room, I would go get the battery (knowing full-well this would occur hours and hours later if it even happened at all that day since my daughter is a profound procrastinator and putzer).
There was grumbling and eye-rolling and all other unsavory behavior on her part, which resulted in me yelling that her behaving in such a way probably wasn't going to induce me to want to help her.
So I am without my computer, and my daughter has just treated me like a poop dropping. Good times.
The boys start haranguing me for candy, which I think is their way of saying, "Hey mom, we missed you! Dad ignores us, and we see your discipline as an act of love and care so please discipline us so we are reminded of how instilling boundaries is a way of showing parental adoration."
Mood.sinking.faster.
N later asked me for my help in cleaning up her room, but when I came in and started giving directives she balked, at which point I told her a variety of the following:
1. Don't ask for my help and then complain about what I instruct you to do to clean up your room.
2. The next time I can't vacuum in here on a Thursday because there is so much stuff on the floor I am picking it up, bagging it and taking it to Goodwill.
3. Silence accompanied by the sound of me turning on the vacuum and rolling it, causing her to quickly throw crap onto her bed. Ultimately, I just want to vacuum the fricking floor and really don't care about her feelings anymore.
Mood.bottoming.out.
This was followed by the psychotic 5-year-old who wanted me to bring a poster over to him (the poster is on our kitchen floor since the boys like to look at it) while he was making a card for his cousin's birthday. I refused (because honestly, given the day I've had, I really have no energy left).
I showed him how he could get his butt up, walk himself, his paper and his marker to the poster, and sit on the floor to finish the card. His response was to scratch out what he'd done and throw a big fit. My response was to say, "You may stay outside until you can be in the house without screaming" and placed him on the front porch (and locked the door).
I don't spank my children, but I will toss their butts outside and refuse re-entry if they cannot control themselves within these walls. (I went out and took a walk myself during the day in my own effort to "give myself a time out." Later I went running errands (another mommy time-out). I would give myself time-outs within my home but my children follow me and bang on doors.)
Mood.has.sunk.into.the.depths.of.the.Earth.
Shortly after, we got the kids in the car to head to my nephew's, which resulted in the 5-year-old screaming for most of the ride there and kicking the windows because, according to him, I was mean since I didn't let him finish his card (that he had scratched out and ruined because I wouldn't deliver the poster to his lazy butt).
This is what I went off the pill for?
It was a case of bizarro world because G, the child who normally presses every button, was seemingly normal compared to the other two.
I am hoping that today is a better day.
It began when I picked up N from her sleepover. We walked into our home and within 2 minutes she came to me holding her camera.
"Look!" she said, holding it out to me.
"What?" I replied.
"The batteries aren't here!" she responded.
"And?"
"YOU have to go back and get them!" she said full of ire and snot.
Uh-uh sister. I don't take commands from a 10-year-old whom I just drove home from said sleepover. A 15-20 minute drive that I just.made.
I could blame her tone on tiredness or the inevitable fall from having fun to resorption into "real boring life at home" (I seem to remember that feeling when I was a kid post-sleepover at friends' houses).
On the drive home, I had told her she needed to take a shower and clean up her room when we got home. So I told her that once she had taken her shower and cleaned up her room, I would go get the battery (knowing full-well this would occur hours and hours later if it even happened at all that day since my daughter is a profound procrastinator and putzer).
There was grumbling and eye-rolling and all other unsavory behavior on her part, which resulted in me yelling that her behaving in such a way probably wasn't going to induce me to want to help her.
So I am without my computer, and my daughter has just treated me like a poop dropping. Good times.
The boys start haranguing me for candy, which I think is their way of saying, "Hey mom, we missed you! Dad ignores us, and we see your discipline as an act of love and care so please discipline us so we are reminded of how instilling boundaries is a way of showing parental adoration."
Mood.sinking.faster.
N later asked me for my help in cleaning up her room, but when I came in and started giving directives she balked, at which point I told her a variety of the following:
1. Don't ask for my help and then complain about what I instruct you to do to clean up your room.
2. The next time I can't vacuum in here on a Thursday because there is so much stuff on the floor I am picking it up, bagging it and taking it to Goodwill.
3. Silence accompanied by the sound of me turning on the vacuum and rolling it, causing her to quickly throw crap onto her bed. Ultimately, I just want to vacuum the fricking floor and really don't care about her feelings anymore.
Mood.bottoming.out.
This was followed by the psychotic 5-year-old who wanted me to bring a poster over to him (the poster is on our kitchen floor since the boys like to look at it) while he was making a card for his cousin's birthday. I refused (because honestly, given the day I've had, I really have no energy left).
I showed him how he could get his butt up, walk himself, his paper and his marker to the poster, and sit on the floor to finish the card. His response was to scratch out what he'd done and throw a big fit. My response was to say, "You may stay outside until you can be in the house without screaming" and placed him on the front porch (and locked the door).
I don't spank my children, but I will toss their butts outside and refuse re-entry if they cannot control themselves within these walls. (I went out and took a walk myself during the day in my own effort to "give myself a time out." Later I went running errands (another mommy time-out). I would give myself time-outs within my home but my children follow me and bang on doors.)
Mood.has.sunk.into.the.depths.of.the.Earth.
Shortly after, we got the kids in the car to head to my nephew's, which resulted in the 5-year-old screaming for most of the ride there and kicking the windows because, according to him, I was mean since I didn't let him finish his card (that he had scratched out and ruined because I wouldn't deliver the poster to his lazy butt).
This is what I went off the pill for?
It was a case of bizarro world because G, the child who normally presses every button, was seemingly normal compared to the other two.
I am hoping that today is a better day.
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