Well, it's Monday. I don't know if it's because it's Monday or because it's cold and gray or because it's President Day and my kids are home from school today AND TOMORROW that I'm in a fowl mood. Maybe it's the stress of the holiday. Too many sales, no money.
I'm done with winter. I was done with winter on January 29th but today I am OFFICIALLY OVER IT! My feet are cold. My nose is cold. My dog is cold. (She hasn't complained but I can tell.) I'd rather chew my toenails than be outside. What happened to global warming?! I'd like somebody to come melt MY polar icecaps. And if we have to go anywhere it takes my kids 10 minutes to walk a half block to get to the car. It's like herding opossum. And then another 5 minutes to actually get in the car as they argue about who's going in first or last. If it gets any colder I'm going to just have to leave them in the parking lot. It will be a first. On the six o'clock news you won't hear "mom left child in car while shopping" but "mom, left three children in parking lot." "She drove home by herself with a different radio station on than Radio Disney. She then proceeded to take a bath because the hot water had not been all used up. She's obviously crazy but she's feeling better after some "alone time."
Isaac wanted me to buy a Harry Potter book the other day when we were grocery shopping. He morphed into his sister Eva.
"Mom, can we get that Harry Potter book?"
"Puleeeasse, I really, really want it." (Have you noticed this doesn't work for Eva either?)
So I said, "Isaac it doesn't have any pictures in it and besides we already have it."
"No, we're not buying it."
"But Myna (Maya) has it."
"Yes, and we don't need another one."
"Puuulllleeeeeaaaassssse....." The argument escalated and I blurted out rather loudly...
"ISAAC YOU CAN'T READ!!"
Ewwww... this feels like a BMM (another Bad Mom Moment).
His big eyes got squinty and he gave me a look like 'I can't believe you brought that up'. Ouch. Bad mom.
Speaking of "bad mom" I can't remember if it was before that or after that that he gave me a strike. A strike is an "x" that goes under your name on the chalkboard in our kitchen whenever you do something unsavory like say for example not picking up your things after I've told you 11 times to pick up your things. I moved some chairs out of the way that Isaac was playing with. He was standing behind the couch with his arms folded over his chest and his belly hanging out of his too small pajamas. So I asked him what was wrong.
"Did you hurt yourself?"
"Are you cold or something?"
"No, you moved my stuff and I gave you (pointing at the chalkboard dramatically) a strike!"
And sure enough there was a big "X" right where Isaac would have put it. I bit my top lip so that I wouldn't laugh. Then I had to bite my lower lip. Then I just started chewing desperately on both lips because he was staring me down with righteous indignation. He had been wronged. And I had been "bad". There was no getting around it. I think he sensed my inner upheaval (that and the fact that all I could do was nod my head) and he walked away. He came back 5 minutes later and threatened to give me another strike if I didn't give him some marshmallows pronto. I then threatened to send him to his room. We silently called it a "draw" and left it at that.
On Thursday while we were dining at the fine establishment of Chik-fil-A he shared his feelings with my mom. I was trying to get him to eat just a couple more bites of chicken when he looked at my mom and said something that I couldn't hear. My mom said to him "Here, just eat these two small bites" then she told me he'd already eaten a lot and beside he'd had a cupcake earlier. Excuse me?! He had icing!! And I'm trying to feed him protein!! (Who is this woman?!) So one very small bite later Isaac ran off to play in the playroom with other kids and lots and lots of germs and bacteria. (sorry, issues.) And later my mom said "you know what he said to me?" he said "She's making me nuts." Evidently Isaac needs less "mommy time".
So it's been decided. No more hemming and hawing over half-day or full-day kindergarten next year. He's going full-day. It's better than leaving him in a parking lot.