March 31, 2004

S.O.S.

Or Mom Throws In The White Towel

I give up. Or, more accurately, I gave up. Both boys have driven me crazy. I have held approximately two hundred and fifty conversations today that followed like the one below:

Senator, please don't poke your brother.

*poke*

Senator! Didn't I just tell you not to poke The Governor?

Yes.

Well then why did you do it?

silence

Well?!

I'm thinking! I'm thinking!

The first fifty times I held on to my temper and spoke with a measure of calmness. When I hit seventy-five, I got snippy. At 109 I started yelling. At 148 I was too hoarse to yell and started hitting my hands together like the pornography hustlers on the Vegas strip. At 226 I thought I had hit on a winner because I scared them when I flopped on the sofa and held my head with both hands and moaned. It took them half a minute to determine there was no real damage done, and so I was back to gesturing wildly at 227. The rest are a blur, although I believe The Senator was keeping track because he told his brother, "Pretty soon we'll get to watch cartoons."

And he was right. Currently, Woody Woodpecker is amusing the both of them, and I am in here trying not to weep openly and blame my husband because they were HIS lousy Y chromosomes. We could have had sweet little girls....but no.

Posted by Cathy at March 31, 2004 06:52 PM
Comments

They ain't all sweet, Cathy. Or have you never seen what happens when one five-year-old puts an outfit on her Barbie that another five-year-old wanted on hers?

Posted by: Mark Hasty at March 31, 2004 07:14 PM

Selective memory, Mark. :) I used to be that 5 year old who threw a fit when her best friend got the Barbie with all her hair still intact.

Posted by: Cathy at March 31, 2004 10:42 PM

Nothing brings my boys together like laughing in my face after trying to stop them from killing each other. They giggle and dance together, then run off skipping and holding hands. Meanwhile my blood pressure is off the chart as the life literally drains out of my body. I then sit alone and cry over the life I "should" have had. Then I drink. Then I make breakfast.

Posted by: RME at April 1, 2004 04:01 PM

The Senator not only looks like his Uncle in Colorado (who has no nickname yet),but has started to act like him. My mantra to the VP and CO Boy was "be nice to each other, he's the only brother you will ever have." The reason I needed this mantra was because Co Boy was CONSTANTLY poking at the VP. What goes around comes around.

Posted by: Nana at April 1, 2004 10:03 PM