Revenge

My son AEW is 8 years old and is OBSESSED with LEGOs.  We have bins FULL TO THE TOP with them plus who knows how many in drawers and in the closets.   Every occasion when you ask him what he wants the answer is and will always be... LEGOs.  Every trip to Walmart ends with a walk to the Lego isle and, more often then not, a new Lego.

He impresses me with every "thing" he builds and makes up with these tiny pieces of plastic.   He would much rather sit on the floor with a bucket of LEGOs then watch TV.   I watch him put together a 230 piece Lego set in under 10 minutes.  And as I watch him I am thinking wow...I  love these things, I love that he is using his imagination and being creative...I love everything about them and the fact that we probably could pay for his first year of University with what they cost doesn't seem so bad....until...

 I step on one.

There is nothing like walking into his room, barefoot,  minding your own business with an arm full of folded laundry ready to be put away and then WHAM...It is like you've been hit by a bus.  The clothes goes flying. You are now hoping around on one foot...biting your lip, silently screaming  profanities in your head watching your once nicely folded laundry slowly fall to the floor. And in that split second you want revenge on these brightly coloured pieces of plastic... You have visions of throwing every Lego you can find into the fire and watching them melt slowly... it is a pain like no other...

And the worst part is that they are everywhere...It doesn't matter what room I am in, or if there is only one lonely little Lego on the floor...I will step on it.  It is like they have it out for me...

Prisons need to learn this technique for interrogation... you want the truth out of someone...lock them in a dark room, barefoot and dump a box of LEGOs on the ground...they will be begging for mercy...

We should start measuring pain from 1 to stepping on a Lego instead of 1-10.

When you want to win a fight, just tell the other person..."I hope you step on a Lego" and walk away...

But then, the pain subsides, and as I am picking up the clothes off of the floor and folding them AGAIN I look up and see all of the "things" that AEW created that day, and it makes me smile. And I my anger slowly dwindles away...

So I don't throw them onto the fire, but I do get my revenge (insert evil laugh here) Every time I sweep the floor I know that there will be a number of them in my dirt pile and I pick up all but one ... that last one, that last little pain inducing piece of plastic, I have something else in mind for it... I "accidentally" forget that it's in there and very quickly sweep it up and throw it out..I know it is only a small victory but it acts more as a warning to the others to be careful because any one of them could be next.

And on that note...I'm off to sweep my floors

Amanda

But, But But....

But it's Bedtime.

 It is my most stressful time of the day.  I wake up in the morning already dreading those 5 little  words.

"It's time for bed guys"

Especially since my hubby just left for a month long hitch ( oil field lingo). So I am officially a 'single parent' for the next 30 days.  And it is hard and rewarding all at the same time. We miss him.  I miss him. I miss having the extra set of hands around especially at BEDTIME. Because I know that as soon as those words leave my mouth I will be greeted by the "BUT"s

"But, I'm still hungry"
"But, I'm not tired"
"But, my show isn't over"
"But, But But..."

One person against three "BUT" equipped kids can make for a very stressful hour...but  however, it is one of those things that you can't change...so I take a deep breath and begin...

"What do you want for night snacks?" Nobody knows...they know that they are hungry, I've told them what we have, but nobody knows what they want...so after repeating everything that I see in the fridge and in the cupboards and threatening to send them to bed with no snack they all of a sudden realise they want toast and a fruit plate. ( the first thing I offered to make them)

Then it's off to get washed up for bed(don't even get me started with that process).  I finally get everyone settled in their beds. They are able to read for a bit while I read to the baby, then I do my rounds and bring water, give hugs and kisses and turn out the lights. And I sit down for the first time all day.

Wouldn't it be nice if that was the end of the Bedtime Story...but no. It begins ,the barrage of little feet.  Perfectly timed so they aren't up together.  And before I can even see who is coming around the corner I say "get to bed!" and then that 3 letter word I've come to loathe...BUT

"But mom, I need a drink"(which they already had)
"But mom, you didn't kiss me goodnight" (which I did)
"But mom, I can't sleep"
"But mom, I have sore legs"
"But, But But..."

BREATH....I get up, get everyone settled again and wait...I'm scared to move, scared to make a sound until I know for sure that they are all sleeping...and I don't dare sit down because I know that as soon as I do they will know...and then it happens...SILENCE.

I  very quietly make my way in each room, turn off nightlights, tuck them in, kiss them (again) and for a brief moment I consider waking them up because the house is too quiet and I miss them already...

BUT I don't, because I know that in 24short hours, I will have to do it all over again :)

Just a few dirty dishes...

Girls...oh my nerves.  I had a 2.5 hour show down with my 5year old over her washing a few dishes.  Can you say ATTITUDE?  There was no way she would budge and no matter how many things I threatened to take away, or how many times I told her she had no choice in the matter, she would not back down.  "I am not doing the dishes", "I wish I had a different Mom", "I hate living in this house".  Did I mention that she is FIVE?  I thought I was going to loose it...I had visions of taking every dirty dish(all 8 of them)and putting them on her bed!!!!  but I didn't...I let her sit on a chair in front of the sink for 2 hours...2 hours!!   My son even came out and said "mom, I will do the dishes for her", but at this point it had nothing to do with the dishes and everything to do with not letting her get away with the ATTITUDE. 

The funny thing is that in the midst of all of this I am looking at my little girl and I am proud of her...I am proud that she isn't afraid to speak her mind, that she is willing to go the distance for something she believes in and that she is not a pushover...I can see her little personality forming and I can see glimpses of an adult version of this 5year old who is passionate and dedicated...but today she is 5 and she still has to wash the dishes...And she did...Not all of them and not well, but they were done and she was happy and proud of herself and I was glad that I didn't back down. We hugged and made up and she was her happy-go-lucky self once again,  making her brothers laugh and acting the fool :)

This being a mom thing is HARD on a good day, but on a day that starts off with the mother of all showdowns...lets just say I'm taking an Advil and heading to bed...well, after I re-wash all of the dishes ;)

Tomorrow is a new day (and one day closer to the teenage years)