Temper temper

There's nothing quite as cute as a pissed off 3 year old. They get mad over the weirdest things. Like today, and bananas, and bear paw cookies.

Me: *making a big show* here you go Nicky. Here's your bear paw because you ate all your bananas.
Josh: where's mine mom?
Me: you didn't eat your banana. It's just sitting there. Do you want me to cut it up?
Josh: sure.

So I cut it up and set the bowl in front of him. He's eyeing Nicky up like a hawk and Nicky is making a production out of enjoying his cookie. Meanwhile I sit down across the table from them and flip open my computer, keeping an eye on Josh.

Of  course he tries to be stealthy and sneak his waiting cookie off the counter.

Me: sit your butt down and eat your banana first.
Josh: *stomping over and sitting down* UGH. I hate bananas.
Me: whatever.
Josh: I'm going to squish you with this table.

He proceeds to spend the next 60 seconds trying to push the table into me. He's a strong little bugger and probably could do it. IF I hadn't been keeping it in place, that is. While trying not to laugh.

Finally he gave up and sat looking at his banana with disgust. Suddenly he grabbed his cup of juice and I had visions of washing my floors and walls for the second day in a row. I grabbed it quickly.

Me: what the hell? Settle down buddy.
Josh: I. Want. To. Drink. It.
Me: really?
Josh: yes.

So I cautiously gave it to him and he slammed that sucker back like he was at a frat party. It was IMPRESSIVE. I think he's going to be trouble in about 15 years.

Josh: NOW can I have my bear paw?
Me: no.
Josh: you don't love me.

And then he took off to parts unknown to pout. Of course, Nicky saw this as his opportunity to try and scam the left over cookie. They're nothing if not true to personality.

But seriously, it was more cute than anything. I just wanted to scoop him up and kiss his little scrunched up face. Aw.

Winning

Liam: *looking at the school website* Oh good, I don't have any homework.
Me: half your teachers don't even update that anyway, I don't trust it.
Liam: well I do have LA homework but that's a project I need the computer for.
Me: you can use mine.
Liam: no I'll just use my dads.
Me: fine.

***

Me: do some reading from your Social textbook anyway.
Liam: *showing me the textbook* it's just these pages that he mentioned us reading.
Me: um, what's that sheet sticking out?
Liam: oh. That? That's nothing. Don't worry about it.
Me: *grabbing it* look it's a worksheet! This is perfect, you can do this instead of just reading pages.
Liam: that's from, like, a long time ago. It's really old.
Me: weird, you wrote today's date in the corner.
Liam: COME ON.

***

Liam: *muttering to himself* I don't even know what pages to find these answers...did you hear me?
Me: *batting eyelashes* oh you're talking to me now? I wasn't sure.
Liam: snark snark, bitch moan and complain.
Me: can it with the attitude, look at the heading, and find it in the textbook.
Liam: I don't even know why you're making me do this. The teacher wants us to do this in class. This is SO UNFAIR.

Poor kid, he has a lot to learn about knowing when to just stop when he's ahead. We fought, I yelled, he listened, he did his homework, I regained my temper, he stomped downstairs. And then I made him clean his room.

Don't piss off your mother.

Clever Lads

How about a lesson in cunning? Lets call it 'The Small Child's Guide To Getting What You Want'.

1. Make sure you're in a very public place, with lots of people around. Preferably old ladies. A grocery store line up works perfectly.

2. Lock onto the prize. Candy usually works best in these cases, the jumbo size to make it all worth it.

3. Make sure you have your big brother on backup. He's not vital to the operation but it never hurts to ensure victory.

4. Hold out the jumbo size candy to your dad-Skittles in this case-and utter the following sentence:

"Daddy, I want to taste the rainbow" 

And on command:

"Ya dad, we want to taste the rainbow"

Cue "awwws" and smiles from the old ladies in line.

*It's important to have an audience.

5. Wait for the inevitable capitulation. No parent wants to look like the asshole that always says no when you're asking so adorably.

6. Be prepared to have a couple and then hand them over to your mother when you get home. They are, after all, her favorite candy too.

It's much more effective than a temper tantrum at the checkout. Just ask Jeff.

Conversations

Don't tell him I told you, but every once in a while there's a glimpse of the person my teenager will be once the hormones and moodiness have leveled off. 

I'm not saying today was one of those rare days, but the conversation made me smile regardless. That kid is so much like me, it's scary.

Liam: God mom, don't you think you went overboard a bit?

Me: Noooooo. In fact, I think I'll go buy a rug for the front door that says "ho ho ho, Merry Christmas" and then you can look at it every time you come home!

Liam: Ha. Ha. Ha.

Me: You're so ironic Liam.

Liam: I know right?

**Me rolling eyes SO HARD at that phrase, it's the most annoying ever and I have found myself spitting it out on more than one occasion**

Liam: You're weird.

Me: Don't say that! Hey, you know what I'm going to do? I'm going to decorate your room while you're at your dads this weekend. Tinsel, lights, a little tree, it'll be FUN. 

Liam: And then I'll tear it down.

Me: And then I'll put it back up and ground you. 

Liam: And then I'll tear it back down.

Me: And then I'll put it back up and take your gifts back.

Liam:...okay, you win.

So, while I'm not actually planning on decorating his room it's nice to know that if I did, he'd suffer through it for the sake of presents. 

Merry Christmas!

Little Big Ears

Conversations with my children are an endless source of amusement lately. They are what makes being a parent totally worth it, my kids are hilarious. Truly.

They also have big ears and even bigger mouths. We really have to watch ourselves around them now.

Example, as we're trudging to school this morning;

Nicky: I need to hold your hand for energy mom.
Me: just walk in front of me for this part. The people who live here are too (fucking, but I didn't say that out loud) lazy to shovel their sidewalk so there's not enough room.
Nicky: Oh they're lazy? That's what daddy called you.
Me: oh REALLY? Why did he say that?
Nicky: because you didn't wash the dishes.
Me: I see. When did he say that?
Nicky: When you were at work.

Of course I immediately texted Jeff and warned him about bitching in front of the kids. The fact that he called me lazy? I'm pretty sure he said that the same night he wrote really this really hard on the fridge pad:

"RINSE THE DISHES BEFORE YOU PUT THEM IN THE DISHWASHER"

(Only reason I knew he wrote that is because I saw them imprint of the words on the paper underneath. He wisely ripped that message up after he got over his fit of pique.)

We all have our limitations. He's a major hothead and I'm A-Okay with leaving a sinkful of dirty dishes for him to clean.

Anyway, point being! We're past the point of being able to talk freely and them not really understanding.

Also, he didn't deny calling me lazy. Shit. My cover has been blown.

Manipulation

I've hit upon parenting gold. I just have to figure out how to make it work for every possible scenario that might come up.

It's simple really; fear. The concept is nothing new, and here's how it played out today while we were waiting for our lemonseed poppy cupcakes to bake.

Nicky: if I have a drink of your coffee, will I DIE??
Me: of course not!
*he brings the mug almost to his lips*
Me: wait! It WILL kill you!
Nicky: what? It will KILL me?
Me: well, no not really. I was just kidding.
Nicky: well what will happen if I drink it?
*thinking quickly*
Me: you'll stop growing. You won't grow as big as Liam or Daddy.
Nicky: are you serious?
Me: I am.

And he slowly put the mug back on the table muttering something about how THAT was not a good thing.

Guys, it was so effective. And I didn't have to yell myself hoarse over him doing something that I didn't want him to do.

Win/win.

Kids are a blessing.

My teenager did two things on Sunday that guaranteed his life for the next month at least. I say that because the teen years are WAY HARDER than toddlers any day. Teenagers can make you so frustrated that it's a good thing they prefer to shut themselves up in their rooms. Because if they were in your face like a toddler, they'd die.

Maybe that's just my house? My teenager? Is mine weird?

Anyway, he hugged me. Voluntarily. With witnesses! For a boy who was so attached to me that he forced me to carry him well into kindergarten, and who held my hand till at least grade 2, he hates hugs.

And then he thanked me for giving him life. That one came out of left field, even though it was Thanksgiving. You see, usually he lives in a boat named LIAM, floating on the sea of ME, way out on the planet called SELF INDULGENCE.

I had to wipe a tear from my eye.

I kid. He's not THAT bad. Actually he's much the same as I was as a teenager. I'm fond of telling him that too. He LOVES when I tell him that.

Now, if he could only wake up to his damn alarm clock so he didn't spend the whole morning stomping around because he's slept in. If that happened I could maybe see the end of the hell that has been the last 4 years with his moodiness.

(well, the last 13 if I'm being completely honest. That kid was born with WAY more estrogen than I was expecting for a boy)

Of course then we're going to get into smoking and drinking and skipping school and drugs and ohmygod why does anyone have kids.

And then I get to do it all again with pretty much two at the same time.

I'm so glad we stopped at three.