I consider myself a fairly laid back person. (Okay, some people who shall remain nameless may disagree, but I said "I consider" so their opinion wouldn't matter anyway.)
I am constantly amazed by the ability of my children to find every stinking one of my pressure buttons an to push them all.
Sometimes at the same time.
There are certain unbroken rules:
1. Don't kill anyone. (Yes, your siblings count as anyone!)
2. Don't lie
3. Don't touch Mommy's books upon threat of the cat o' nine tails and the rack (see how serious I am about this one--more important than thy shall not kill. Books are serious business.)
4. Use an inside voice.
5. Mind me at all costs. (I'm sorry you've halfway amputated your arm. But I told you to pick up your toys. You want to go to the hospital, finish picking up your toys!)
6. All rules are subject to change without any prior notification, and, if I were you, I' frequently test the waters to gauge Mommy's mood.
Don't' get me wrong. I love my heathens--children--most of the time.
Some of the time.
When they are asleep.
But I don't understand the constant need to push and annoy and drive me into the funny farm just a few years earlier than I had already reserved to go.
(I have my padded cell picked out, but it won't be available until you hit puberty. By then, the current tenant will have lost all their marbles and have returned to the loving bosom of their family.
Bug loves t tell me what he will not be doing. I'm all about independence--when i tell him its okay to be independent as long as its all my idea. But this random acts of defiance and obstinance, now those are too much, even for my saintly soul.
Boo has entered the no stage. "Nuff said about hat.
Punk is clingy, determined not to be put down at all costs, including hair pulling and strangulation with necklaces. She's even tried assaulting me by head butting. I now have pretty new teeth that come out at night.
Why do they do it? Is it some malfunction in their DNA that makes them act like this?
Laying in bed waiting on one of them to crawl out of bed an declare that they wanted something (a drink, to snuggle, a story, you insert an action and it will be correct), I mulled it over and finally came t my own personal, maternal epiphany.
They're preparing me for having three teen-agers.
I called this morning and tried to push up my reservation date.
No such luck. The current resident is refusing to budge.
I'm so screwed.
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