I always get my boys back on Tuesday nights. And everyone knows that I sit on the edge of my seat all day on Tuesdays just waiting for 4:30 to roll around so that I can fly out of the office to go pick them up from school. Yesterday was very much the same as every other Tuesday. As soon as I walked into their classroom, both came running to me with open arms. We had a great conversation while we sat in 5 o'clock traffic, catching up on all that I missed over the past few days.
As soon as I park the car in the garage, they quickly unbuckle and, of course, zoom upstairs to turn on their Star Wars game. I'm ok with them playing for a few minutes while I unload the car of all their "ride home snacks" and get dinner started. It actually helps, to be perfectly honest. (I know, I know - we've had this conversation before - I promise I DO NOT let XBox babysit for me).........(ok, I lie, I let it sit for me sometimes.....).........(ok, I lie again... I let it sit for me more than sometimes).
But anyway, enough guilt-trip. Once dinner is ready, we sit and inhale our pizzas while the boys tell me how Storm Troupers do this and R2D2 does that and how they hate when they get to a part they can't get past so they just start the game over. I actually enjoy these conversations because they're so invested in them. You've never seen excitement in any child's eyes like my boys' when they talk about Star Wars. So we're having a great evening and I start cleaning up our dinner plates, and then it happens..............Thud! Scream! Blame! Cry! You turn your head for one second and they go from being the best of friends to wanting to do bodily harm to one another.
I usually remain calm and try to get the stories out of each of them. "He did this!..... He did that!..... But he did it harder!...." blah, blah, blah. So I tell them we need to cool down and get our jammies on and just relax for a little bit. Both of them respond with a resounding "NO!" Well........ no one yells at mama like that and certainly no one tells mama no. And that was it.
Mama proceeded to take charge of her household, yielding her mighty sword (hand) to the air and ordering these two Storm Troupers (angry four year olds) up the stairs and straight to the cave (bed). I had to assert my authority and I did so by taking away their bed time ritual of ten minutes of cartoons and milk. Well, you would have thought I asked them to personally throw their XBox off the back deck and then make them watch as it smashed to pieces on the ground below. And believe me, as many times as I imagined doing that exact thing, I have refrained. So, of course, the rest of the night was spent trying to calm them down enough so that they would actually go to sleep. And that was no easy task. Between Big E's deep cry that takes his breathe away and Peanut's anger management issue, we were in for the long haul. I spent about an hour going back and forth between each twin sized bed trying to calm each of them. When I moved to one child's bed, the other got jealous and louder. Then I would move to their bed. And it went back and forth at an almost comical level. The moment that finally broke the anger and sadness from the air was when Peanut sat on top of me telling me how mad at me he was and how he wasn't going to kiss me goodnight because I made him sad. As he was crying (fake crying) and trying to sound all mean and angry, he looked down at his pants and I heard "huh?".....(long pause....) "I put my pants on backwards." And then we all busted out laughing. That was all it took. We all fell asleep shortly thereafter.
Um.... moral of the story - screw it. Next time you guys can stay up and fight all you want. Mama's goin' to bed.
53 of 365: You only THINK you're in charge....
Good Night All!
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