Hotter Than Japan


“I don’t want to go to karate!  I don’t want to go to karate!  Why do you make me go?  I just want to play with my friends.  You always make me do things I don’t want to do! You are the worst mom EVER!”  This is how it usually starts.  Guess what I don’t want to go to karate either, I would rather spend an hour cleaning up after your messy asses than sitting on the floor of the do-jo watching you learn new kicks and punches that I know will lead to my demise at some point.  And guess what else?  I would rather be hanging out with my friends, Jack Daniels or Chardonnay, and sitting on my porch entertained by other parents having the same kind of joyous interactions with their kids.  And here’s another thing, YOU asked to join karate and daddy and I pay this every month, he pays financially and I pay mentally!

Every request I make is met with a meltdown of sorts.  Yesterday after taking #2 swimming at the Rec Center and stopping by McD’s, she tells me that I promised her a cake pop from Starbucks and that I owe it to her.  Now, I am pretty sure I didn’t “promise” anything, but I pick my battles and getting a cake pop is well worth avoiding the 45 minute tirade she is going to have without it.  I know it is technically spoiling your kid and rewarding them for negative behavior, so sue me, I can only take so much nagging.  So I get the damn cake pop and we get home and I tell her to hurry up so she still catches the bus and first bite the cake pop breaks in half and both sides hit the ground.  Ok, so you know that tirade I was trying to avoid, well triple it now.  Somehow, it is my fault that this happened.  If I just listen and don’t argue I may still be able to get her on the bus and keep my sanity.  I wind up offering a stale Peep from Christmas, she accepts and we make the bus.  I personally think that the Armed Forces may want to offer me a consulting gig for my strong negotiation skills and avoidance of war.

I feel that I am focusing too much on #2, as child #1 can try my patience almost as well.  She doesn’t eat well, she has about 5 things she can tolerate and it is difficult to feed her.  She loves pancakes and usually on Sundays my husband will make a double batch which I will freeze and serve her throughout the week.  This past Sunday we were busy (sleeping off the hangover from the bowling party the night before) and he did not make the pancakes.  Yesterday after school she asks to go to her favorite restaurant, Bob Evans.  I tell her no and she starts screaming about how if daddy had did his job and made pancakes on Sunday we wouldn’t have to go to Bob Evans.  Guess what?  We are still not going.  She then runs from room to room sobbing, and I really need to sit her down to do her homework so we can get to karate on time.  I finally take the entire freezer apart and find 2 pancakes buried under everything.  I don’t know how long they have been there, don’t care!  I wave the Ziploc baggie in front of her and she runs in the room happy as can be and sits down to be served her favorite food.

It is funny that the small things are what cause the biggest meltdowns.  Last night I cringed as I gave #1 the 5 minute warning to log off Webkinz.  She gives me an, “Sure mom” and actually does it.  Five minutes later when I put the wrong toothpaste on her toothbrush I get tears, stomping and a refusal to brush until I wash it off and put on the right flavor.

Last night as I was falling asleep I felt something crawl up my leg, I woke to find #2 sneaking in to bed with me.  Her reasoning was that daddy was downstairs watching hockey and there was plenty of room.  I am too tired to argue, I just make room for her and kiss the top of her tiny head.  As she starts to drift off she whispers, “Don’t forget you still own me another cake pop and you should go get it when you take sissy to school tomorrow morning.”  As I sit here and type this I can hear her stirring in the other room, I feel the tension at the back of my neck as I know what the first question out of her mouth will be this morning, “Where is my cake pop?”  My answer will lead to a meltdown hotter than Japan is right now.

Happy Hump Day – keep it cool!

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