Last night, I went out with a girlfriend for a spa night. How completely, utterly amazing! (By the way, I do these parties, if any one's interested -- but how nice to be spoiled by getting one!). A lot of pent up stress was released, and I came home a much happier woman than when I had left.
Fast forward to this morning...kids are up (and there was no fight for it to happen!), lunches were made, breakfast was eaten and homework was packed and ready to go. This, in itself is a small miracle. My day is going well. They all leave for school, and I'm left at home with an infant, two toddlers and a preschooler. Baby and one toddler crash for their morning naps...and the preschooler and other toddler are playing quietly. They are relishing in the newness of the book nook that I've created, flipping through books and lounging on pillows.
Suddenly all hell breaks loose. Apparently preschooler's head touched toddler's pillow. I'm sure that you, Dear Reader, felt the shudder as the earth came to a screeching halt. Toddler starts freaking "move, move, move!" all the while pushing (with hands and feet) on the head of preschooler. Unfortunately, she can't move her head because toddler has wound her little fingers into her hair. Preschooler tries to move and screams in pain, while toddler is still freaking out about the infraction onto her pillow territory.
Meanwhile, I'm thinking that my cup of coffee is suddenly less enjoyable. Not only do I have a disaster in progress, I have one in the making should this argument (and the sheer volume of it) wake the angels sleeping in blissful ignorance in the other room.
"Shhhh!!" I say as I rush over to extract tiny fingers from matted hair. Tears are wiped, war wounds are kissed better and egos are placated. Each child apologizes to the other and they hug and make up.
Then, they start playing tag.
Now...they'd had a taste of freedom last week when the weather was wonderful and they were able to let go of that endless energy children are equipped with. This week, however, has been a cold, rainy, windy, hailing, snowing, blowing kind of week. Not exactly something to bring out little people into without bringing on colds, ear infections and other nastiness.
I decided to let them play, but "we have to play a special game of tag," I say and their eyes fill with wonder and excitement, "we have to play silent tag"
...
...
...
Yes, Dear Reader, you may stop laughing now.
Needless to say, this new game lasted all of 2.5 milliseconds. They laughed and giggled and squealed. Again, I'm thinking of the blissful angles sleeping and the chaos that will come from waking the slumbering babes before they're ready for it. So, my solution -- and folks, I can hardly believe it, but this is what I said: "If you can't play quietly that you have to sit down and watch TV." And I sat them on the couch and turned on treehouse.
Only then, did the complete and total ridiculousness of the words that I'd uttered come to me. And the children themselves were thoroughly disgruntled. I could almost read their thoughts "I can't believe she's making us watch TV."
Which is so ironic! On a normal day I'm saying "We don't need to watch TV. We can have fun without TV." etc, etc, etc.
Oddly enough though, they watched for only about 20 minutes and then the TV was off (and stayed off) for the rest of the day, and no one asked for it!
Posts
0 comments:
Post a Comment
Please comment, please. It makes me feel good, and well -- a woman just likes to feel good every now and then. I may not agree with your comment, it may even tick me off and make me want to delete it...but comment anyway and make my day.