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Wednesday, April 27, 2005

These Are The Days to Remember

Tonight during dinner I got mad at my two oldest testosterone laden children and their constant bickering. They love to take verbal jabs at each other and unless I step in it will escalate to tears or punches, or both. It drives me crazy.

Maybe my perception of what sibling relationships should be like is skewed since I have no siblings of my own. But would it kill them to hug, hold hands, and perhaps sing hymns together? Is that too much to ask?

Tonight I got fed up and yelled at my two oldest sons to "knock it off". This prompted both of them to roll their eyes at me. And then, in a moment of which I am extremely proud, I picked up my dinner plate and slammed it on the table.... where it promptly broke.

There was stunned silence. Which lasted for a micro second. In retrospect, it probably was just them inhaling in preparation for the gasps of laughter.

My 2 yr old daughter climbed on the table, and just in case we weren't aware of what was going on, she began to narrate the scene for us, complete with hand motions, head shaking, and gasping. "Uh-oh!" "Oh no. no no no!" "Say sorry Mommy." "Oh plate broke!" "Oh food broke!" "No. No." "Not nice, Mommy" "Say sorry, Mommy!"

Then everyone started laughing. Everyone except for me because I was not done being mad yet, dammit!

I got out a garbage bag and put it on the table where, amid all the narrating and laughter, I filled it up with the broken plate pieces and food.

And then being very dramatic I huffed, "This is SO not funny."

I grabbed the bag off the table with, ummm perhaps, a little bit too much vigor. As the bag swung off the table, the sharp plate pieces ripped the plastic garbage bag open sending plate pieces and food across the kitchen floor.

And my son, who I really don't think wants to see 11 years old, said, "Yeah, but that SO was.",

It would be so much easier if children came with a score sheet so you knew where you stood, you know before they move out and go to college and decide that you are a complete fool who is responsible for all the character flaws they have. That way I would know how much money to set aside in the therapy fund.

I really hope that in the end, there are enough times like the fun with Jedi spoons to make up for times like this.


Blogger eko said...

awww! that was an amazing entry - touching! I can so relate, you just tell it better!


3:22 AM  
Blogger thicket dweller said...

You actually have a therapy fund? Wow. Well, I guess that makes sense. We probably all need therapy more than we need college.

6:06 AM  
Blogger Laurel said...

You are SO normal!!! Hymn sings? My girls can fight over ANYthing.
(And they would have LOVED the scene replaying in this house).
If it helps, my siblings and I did indeed fight the same way...and hey, look at how normal we are today?????? Maybe I should start that therapy fund after all!

8:27 AM  
Blogger Jody said...

Ah, pre-teens, doncha love 'em?

On the up side, my oldest is having actual conversations with us now that don't entail a mind numbing explanation about how the new lego thingie that they built can shoot lasers and blow up this and that and watch me while I reinact how the Hot Wheels car flipped when I sent it over the jump made of mommys laptop screen.

He made a joke the other day that was actually funny and when we LOAO, he winked at us!

It's all good!

9:40 AM  
Blogger Erin said...

Here's a glimpse into my future! My boys will be a little over 2 years apart.
Maybe you should use the therapy fund for yourself, since they seem to be having a wonderful time! Even better than the Jedi spoons!
I love reading your blog.

10:35 AM  
Blogger Mrs. Darling said...

I never break stuff because I know it will be me that has to clean it up! Were this not the case, I would have broken everything in my house by now! LOL

11:15 AM  
Blogger Chris said...

Oh Jody, that is too funny. My eyes were glazing over this morning listening to the details of a Lego creation. There are only so many ways I can say "Wow, how cool."

mrs darling, I never break stuff on purpose for the same reason. I told my husband the plate must have had a crack in it or something. That's my story and I'm sticking to it ;-)

The songs wouldn't have to be hymn per se, just not songs involving potty talk... or punching.

And maybe I'll rename that therapy fund, Fund for Alcoholic Beverages, FAB for short.

12:19 PM  
Blogger rugdesigner said...

I honestly admire you. I raised two boys as a single mother. They were the perfect siblings. They played perfectly together. They showed each other the love. My oldest was the most tolerant and patient of big brothers with his aggravating little brother. I was so proud. Then my oldest turned 10 and he snapped. All hell broke loose and it was waist high hell for the next 9 years. I was shell shocked and ill equipped to handle any of it. I, being one of logical mind, tried to reason with said children at every occasion. They played me like a fiddle most of the time, but I was persistent if nothing else.

Now they are grown men and the best of friends and it amazes me how many of my mantras they still repeat (mostly with rolling eyes and laughter). But, at least I now know that they were listening or that repetitiveness works, one or the other. The stories they tell of their childhood amaze me and we all laugh together alot. There are still things I find out "by accident" during conversations, for which they are quick to apologize now. I love the hugs and the kisses and the apologizies for "everything we put you through, mom." "You know you are the greatest." And when they still come to me for advice and they call me every week just to talk and they are not asking for money I know they really mean it.

Hang in there, girl. It passes so quickly even though it doesn't feel like it when you're in the throes of it all. One day I woke up and everyone was gone, but before I got used to the silence I had grandkids to rock and sing to and spoil! Life is so good!

3:34 PM  

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