Greg is in Vegasbaby, all week. He calls me from casinos and dinner parties and down crowded hallways and we catch up for a few minutes before he is called away. It's his company's worldwide sales convention and it's quite a production.
Everything here is the same: Bland, but not boring. The kids have broken the bickering barrier, in high pitch tones I'm certain only sea monkey ears can register.
I have reasoned and Loved & Logicked and ignored certain behaviors and doled out consequences. Nothing seemed to take the edge off.
Zack wants to sing 'Head & Shoulders' in French, again, and Lexi wants to play 'When the Saints Come Marching In' on her recorder, again, but if I am not facing them, simultaneously, thoroughly taking in this unholy round, then they begin growling, at each other. Reprimanding the other for interrupting. Growling, to get my attention.
Real, true, I AM YETI growling.
So, I did what every seasoned mother would do; I yelled.
I yelled something ridiculous about their growling and how as their mother, I don't have to take their bulllllllllllllll......crap. (I thought just long enough to correct myself.)
I paused. I thought: I'm acting like an idiot.
And then Zack busted up laughing, busting a gut because clearly his mother is a loon. I started chuckling too. I was sounding pretty pathetic.
(Lexi could not be reached for comment because she was still fuming over something that happened hours before. The pout is strong is that one.)
I guess we all have our breaking points. It's nice to know that sometimes, our kids can bend.