Get out and give me 10!

I had to run into town today to get Leah's glasses tightened (have I mentioned she got glasses?) and exchange something. On the way home, the boys got into it in the back seat.

I am SO SICK of those two and their misbehaving in the back seat. If it weren't for car seats and boosters, I would have them as far from each other as possible. I screamed at them on the way home from a store on Saturday and that had some effect for a short while. (Another reason why I'll never receive any parenting awards.)

So after listening to at least 5 minutes of laughing and screaming and watching arms flying, I turned the opposite way off our freeway exit and stopped on the side of the road. I opened the side door and told both of them to get out. Daniel was seriously distressed. I think he thought I was going to make them walk home. I admit to wishing it was possible, but we were still a good 5 miles from home.

What I DID do was make one of them stand off to the side and told the other to go around the van 10 times. When he was done, they switched places. It was cold and windy and neither one of them grabbed their jacket on the way out. I wouldn't have thrown it to them anyway. Even though they laughed and goofed off while they did their laps, they were silent the rest of the way home. And to me, that is a success. Even better, I didn't raise my voice or spank any rear ends. Maybe I do deserve a parenting award. But just a little one.

I will definitely do this again. *wink*

A hard lesson

I've mentioned before that my Daniel is a little impulsive and doesn't seem to think before acting. This is usually at the expense of his siblings. It has been a very frustrating thing for Chad and I to see him float through his life, leaving a trail of tears and turmoil in his wake. We often think he could use an older sibling to show him what it feels like!

Last night, we were at a local corn maze (for the 2nd time this week) and Daniel and Nathan and Leah wouldn't stop teasing each other. We were getting tired of it since they were blatantly ignoring our warnings. We finally told them anyone who didn't stop wouldn't be going to the Spud Day Parade in the morning.

Daniel hid around the next corner and jumped out and scared Nathan, who then screamed like a baby (which is how he always screams). Daniel took off running away from Nathan, then tripped in an uneven patch of ground and started crying like a baby (which how he always cries). I was just thinking to myself that his ankle had better not be twisted or his foot broken, because I was SO not carrying him out of that maze! And then I said that I would stay home from the parade with him.

Daniel didn't even respond. Of course, that's annoying to me as a parent because I want to know that he at least cares he's getting in trouble. Nothing was said about it until bedtime. We had to remind Daniel that he wasn't going to the parade unless he did something to make up for the problem he'd created.

And this is how we are ineffective parents. We tell them we're going to punish them, but don't want them to feel left out and miss the fun with the family, so we find a way for them to get out of it.

And that is exactly what Daniel assumed would happen. Chad told him this morning that he'd better do "x", "y" and "z" if he wanted to go. He instead chose to do "a", "b" and "c". And we were frustrated!

So, while I had continued to get ready as if I really was going to get to go to the parade with everyone else, we did indeed keep Daniel home. He was MAD and crying and pleading and I wanted to give in; make a deal with him. But Chad pulled out of the driveway without us and Daniel went racing around to the backyard.

I checked up on him and saw him letting the dogs comfort him. Then he climbed onto the hood of Chad's truck and sat there for a little while. I hoped he was thinking. And realizing that it was his choices that caused him to be left behind, not mean parents.

I was disappointed that Daniel made the choices he did to end up home from the parade. And I was disappointed to miss the parade myself (it's such a beautiful morning)! But even in my frustration and disappointment, I had to remind myself that a small-town parade is a very insignificant thing and it's more important for Daniel to learn this hard lesson. I only hope he does learn something!

Stray Elbows

Ahh...summer is here. And so are the squabbles. My two most active players on the fighting fields are Daniel and Leah. "In one corner..." It's like the characters in stories that you love to HATE. It seems to be much more enjoyable for them to be in a fight, than to cooperatively play with each other.

For the 2nd time this year, I've resorted to the SERVICE punishment. A ways back, Daniel was having a hard time showing kindness to Rebekah and was given the assignment to serve her for the rest of the day. (If he failed in that assignment, it was extended another day until he had it figured out.) The rest of that day was so much nicer and I think Rebekah felt a new sense of "special" from the treatment (in an innocent way). The next day she asked if Daniel still had to serve her! I think it did a lot to restore her bad feelings from the mistreatment she'd received before.

This afternoon Daniel and Leah get to serve each other. I very calmly talked through what the issues were (which was like "pulling teeth") with both of them and decided they needed a good dose of service. If they can't pull it off, we'll continue it tomorrow. Of course, I made sure to explain that this was not servantude! When I thought I had understanding and unwilling acceptance, I sent them back down to play.

At that moment, Daniel brushes by Leah and gives her an elbow shove. So he gets another 45 seconds of "guidance." Then I explained what a referee is to Nathan (we are not a sports-oriented family) and told him he is the referee. If there are complaints from the two probationers, I will be finding him for an objective report. And now I hope to catch a quick nap. (Crossing my fingers that the phone doesn't ring.)

Along the lines of serving, I have a grumble about "other people's children." We have been going to the school for their free summer lunch program. Today is RAINING. I was bringing Sarah in with me under one arm (picture a football), pushing the stroller with the other and coaxing Joseph closer to the doors and out of the rain. (His older siblings left him behind when they went in! Stinkers! Daniel got an earful for that!) Anyway, there is a girl about Daniel's age or possibly older at the door as I lift the stroller up the two steps. As I approach the door, she walks in and the door closes in my face. WHAT??!!?? Has this child never been taught to hold the door? RUDE, rude, rude. Don't think she didn't see me...she did. Grrr! I shifted my load and grabbed the door. Leah was on the other side struggling to get it open (heavy metal door). At least Leah redeems herself a tiny bit from leaving Joseph outside.

Ear plugs, please.

It's Day Four of our Summer Vacation and I've heard Daniel's name WAY too much already. I'd sent the kids out to get in the van while I got Sarah ready, and 3 different people came in complaining about something Daniel had done.

He's like a honey bee, buzzing from one flower to the next, getting everyone riled up and causing commotion. What are my chances that he'll be suddenly more mature on his 10th birthday Wednesday?

BTW: It's not like everyone else should be wearing badges of innocence. It's a regular Fun House around here! Stop!!! I want off the ride!

Tough Love

I love Daniel. He is my firstborn. He teaches me how to be a parent. He can be really helpful. And he can really get under my skin!

Tonight, Daniel made his customary disparaging remark about dinner. (He does it with a flair of 'wit' and thinks he's showing some sort of coolness.) I didn't even give him a warning this time. Up to his room he went, without a word (he does have some wisdom).

As I sat and chewed on my food, I mulled over in my mind what to do about him. I seriously considered letting him go hungry. It wouldn't kill him and I'd make my point (hopefully), but I wasn't sure that would do it.

And then I struck upon something that would satisfy my guilt over not providing him the food part of "food and shelter," but would not let him feel he'd won either. After the family was done eating, he got a piece of bread and a cup of water. Welcome to the hard life, kid! (Talk about the bread of life!)

And this is something I think we can keep up. Eventually, he's going to think before he opens his mouth and says something stupid. It may be a while, though.

Only my kids

Only my kids can stubbornly cry about something for so long that eventually they don't remember WHY they're crying, only that they're SUPPOSED to be crying and continue on auto pilot until they find a new thing to cry about.

It makes me want to cry.

"You should write a book."

It was a nice Spring day...finally. It was a day off from school, so we had a full house. I had planned to send the kids outside after lunch, but that was the same time the field to the south of us was being disked. There was a strong south wind. We were in the middle of an Idaho dust bowl. So much for going outside right then.

Luckily, the field work was done quickly and I sent them outside and strongly encouraged them to pick up the pods that had fallen from the tree since last fall. We were planning on taking them out for ice cream, but they don't have to know that. I told them if we could get all the pods cleaned up, we'd get a special treat.

So they get a spurt of excitement and pick up pods for 10 minutes. After repeated cajoling, wrangling, threatening and reminding, I finally went out to help. Because we're already going to get the ice cream, I can't let the pod ploy die. I don't want them to think we just went and got the ice cream anyway! I raked and bagged a lot of pods.

We were also tent shopping. Remember the tent? It needed to be replaced and we wanted to check a few stores. The kids were almost as excited about looking at tents as they were about the treat!

We eventually ended up at the ice cream restaurant. (For those of you in my old hometown, think Leatherby's.) We all got a sugar cone with way too much ice cream on top. A lady there found great joy in watching the kids. She was especially taken with Leah.

"I'll bet she's a character!" "I'd love to take her home." "I'll take her home and put her to work." (I thought that was an odd thing to say.) Anyway, she kept watching the kids and smiling. I think she was the wife of the owner.

So as we're getting up to go, she tells me that our kids are very well behaved and....surprising to me...I should write a book! Inside my head I'm laughing my guts out. Ha! Like I'm someone that has anything to say about getting kids to behave. Luckily, I didn't say what I was really thinking but rather, "I don't have any secrets."

We were talking about that in the car on the way home. Chad mentioned that all kids are good when they're sitting down eating ice cream. It's when they're behaving in the middle of chores that is the real test. I told him not to steal my glory. But I really don't think I need to write a book.

I Don't Care!!!

...stomp, stomp, stomp

It was a lovely morning in Leahland today. I don't think Daylight Saving Time was kind to her.

I'm grateful for a kindergarten teacher who will attract the nice little girl being held prisoner inside Leah somewhere and allow her to come home at lunch time.

And I'm thankful that I have 3 hours to see if that really happens.

Finger painting

We have a behavior system in our house that has been in place for several years. It works really well for us. It has gone through a few adjustments, but I think it will serve us for a few more years to come (I hope).

Each child has a cup of 10 marbles (the flat kind that don't roll away) of one color. Daniel is dark blue, Nathan is green, Leah is yellow and Rebekah is red.They can earn marbles or lose them. Once they've earned all 10 marbles, there are different rewards they can pick from - electric train, Hot Wheels toy, glitter paint, finger paint, a dollar toward a book order, 30 min on the LeapFrog games, etc. Then they put the marbles back and start over.

We recently added Joseph to the system. He is light blue. Last week, Joseph earned his 10th marble. He first chose the train, but changed his mind about 10 minutes into it. Normally, it's not permitted to choose more than one activity, but I didn't want to try to explain it to a tantrum-prone 2-year-old. He chose the finger paints.

He really enjoyed himself.



And when he wanted to do a THIRD thing, I put my foot down. There are only so many things I want to clean up in one afternoon!

This afternoon, Joseph was running around the living room cleaning up things so he could earn marbles. My living room looks much nicer now!

Cancelling Christmas

My kids will now need therapy. This time it's for sure.

Am I the only one with cranky, bickering kids? I'd better not be the only one enjoying this twisted version of holiday cheer. My kids start fighting with each other over the DUMBEST things. I am nearing the end of my patience.

I took the kids to a museum today to see the free Christmas displays. Nathan couldn't complain about being there enough. Daniel wanted to go off with some boys he knew from school. (I've heard enough stories about these boys to know that I didn't want him out of my sight, in a museum, with these kids.) On the way home, there was endless fighting and complaining and crying. Sarah is still coughing up her last breath and Joseph's fever was coming back. Someone please stick a candy cane through my heart and end the suffering.

The pleasantries didn't end once we got home, so I quietly began undecorating the tree. The kids wanted to know what I was doing and I told them that we didn't have the Christmas spirit and so I was taking the tree down. The girls started crying right away. Nathan held out for a little bit, but eventually buried his head in his knees. Daniel sat quietly through most of it before storming out of the room and then the house.

The whole time I was taking the decorations off, I felt HORRIBLE! My stomach was doing flip flops and I wondered if I might cry. But I was serious about sending the kids a message...enough is enough! By the time I got all the ornaments off, my hands were beginning to tremble because I felt so sad about it and knew how the kids must be feeling, too. I told them they could save Christmas if they came up with a plan to get along better and STOP fighting.

It took them quite a while to figure it out and I had to coach the conversation more than I thought I would have to. We seemed to come to an agreement and I let them redecorate the tree after dinner. (I never did get the lights off.) But there is still more "mean" in our home than I feel comfortable with. Ugh. I wonder if I could postpone Christmas until we're a little nicer to each other. Some of them are still so young that I'm not sure how effective anything is anymore.

And just this weekend, Daniel started crying for no reason. He won't tell us what's wrong, but he's really good at slamming doors and storming away. Is this the beginning of adolescence? Or is there something else that's wrong? If this is "normal" development, I may not be strong enough to raise these children to adulthood. I may be the one that needs therapy. I'm scared!

Daniel gets his braces on in about 12 hours. We'll post some pictures when we can!

How RUDE!!

My kids have a complaint that they use WAY too much: "________ is being rude!"

Usually, it's Daniel's name in there, but I think everyone has had the judgement against them. Even Leah's friends at school have been branded. Heck, Rebekah even says characters in her computer games are rude sometimes. It's something that's a little over used around here.

So last night, it wasn't much of a surprise when Rebekah appeared at the side of our bed claiming that Daniel was being rude. It wasn't real likely, unless Rebekah and Daniel were up together sometime between midnight and 4 AM, but there wasn't any point in telling her she'd been dreaming.

So, to keep the peace (and his warm place in bed), Chad moved over and Rebekah climbed in. I got up at 4 to take care of Sarah and noticed our revised sleeping arrangements. Rebekah had as much room as I did! Now who's being rude?

It was about that time we talked her back into her bed...before she got nudged out of the bed and onto the floor. It would have really been rude to have to listen to her scream when she landed on her head!

Hormone Therapy

My poor kids are going to need therapy for the abuse they've been getting while I wait for my hormones to balance out. Bluntly said, "I am WAY cranky."

There are few chances given around here lately. The first sound of fighting earns my wrath. If you don't respond after the 2nd time, you're likely to be singled out and faced with a very unfriendly comment. I have learned to leave the room when I'm feeling too crazed.

I feel bad about my recent attitude, but only upon reflection. It does nothing to keep me from losing control the next time something irritates me. So not only am I dealing with little sleep, crazy hormones, a depressed sense of self-image, I'm feeling large amounts of guilt, too. Yay for me and the family!

But it's not all my fault. When Daniel thought it would be funny to make his sisters and brother put very spicy hot pepper seeds into their mouths, my first thought was...Give him one, too! I didn't feel bad when he cried (and he made sure he cried the loudest and longest). Daniel usually does irritating things, but this was too much for the hormones. Little Bully, meet Big Bully.

And when the boys somehow got water all over the table, chairs and floor and then left it? I waved the soggy mail I'd peeled from the table, lectured them and dealt a punishment. If I can't count on the oldest ones to show some responsibility, I expect the crankiness to last a while.

Since I'm so cranky, I feel like it's showing weakness to smile or laugh, even when it's deserved. Earlier today Rebekah yelled from Joseph's room, "Joseph is drawing all over his arm!"

Me: "What is he drawing with?"
R: "A pen."
Me: "Did you take it away?"
There is a pause. The next thing we hear is Rebekah saying to Joseph, "Give me that!" and then she yells out, "Yes!"

Everyone laughed, but I tried to keep it in (unsuccessfully).

Something else to add to the stress around here...Daniel's jaw is hurting again, on the other side. When Daniel is in pain, everyone knows. It becomes his excuse for everything he doesn't want to do. He is suddenly addicted to children's pain meds and lies around moaning, groaning and sometimes screaming. I guess I'll have to find him a chiropractor to go to around here. I know where one is 40 minutes away, but I'm hoping for a little less road time. Why is it that medical problems ALWAYS happen at the end of the week? It makes for very long, cranky weekends.

I've seen two quotes as I've been driving around this week. Some of you may have seen them, too. I'm only sharing them because I liked them. This is not a jab at anyone, nor am I trying to send any "messages" at all.

First one on a sign of a local church: Hold up your head but keep your nose at a friendly level.
Second one at a local business: Borrow money from a pessimist...they don't expect it back.

Is this a joke?

I feel like I'm being "punked" or on some twisted program where they test the pregnant lady's blood pressure via her kids.

I was playing a computer game, trying to put my foot/feet up. The girls were going a little overboard with their cup selections and picking cups with lids. Normally, I say NO...this time I said I'd rather you didn't. They know that's not the same.

While they had the dishwasher open, Joseph starts taking out the clean dishes and putting them into the sink with the dirty ones (cereal bowls still full of milk and cereal). Rebekah lets me know what he's doing, but neither she nor Leah figures it's their job to do anything about it. Before I know it, they've left him to his game (with a still open dishwasher) and by the time I get there, the sink is full...both sides. I was unable to save 1/2 of the clean dishes that he put in the sink.

I was mad! I'm still mad. While I'm ranting and growling and slamming things around in the kitchen, I smell soap coming from upstairs. Apparently, the boys decided to finally take the shower I'd REPEATEDLY asked them to do 3 hours ago. The girls had gone upstairs and I heard Daniel say that the water was off. So I thought they were done.

Then I hear a piercing scream coming from upstairs. Leah always over-reacts. But I'm mad and on a war path. I stomp upstairs to see what the @#$% is going on. (Back to pretend swearing.) Daniel is standing outside the shower...completely lathered in soap. Nathan is sitting on the floor of the shower, in the same condition...except he has soap in his eyes. He's the one screaming, not Leah. No water is running.

I shove Daniel back into the shower, turn on the water and tell them they must be retarded (not one of my better parenting moments). Now I'm ranting and growling in the upstairs bathroom. I don't know how much angrier I can get! Of course, I have to tell them to TURN OFF THE WATER AND GET OUT OF THE SHOWER!!! Maybe they were staying in there out of self preservation. When they get out, they stand there naked and dripping. I have to tell them to open the drawer and look for towels. Really!!!! Is this a joke?

They are grounded in their rooms for now. I told them I'd call them for lunch. But first I have to make it. And I have to get out the chair from under the table that I shoved under in a lovely display of anger for my 3 youngest children. I'm not sure we're going to make it to the first day of school on Monday. I'm not sure we're going to make it to tomorrow.

What the #&@*%^???!!!

If I were a profane person, it would have been plainly manifest this morning.

Due to crazy and confusing events (and pregnancy hormones, I'm sure), we now have 6 four-week-old kittens loose in the laundry room. They stopped staying in the laundry basket and last night I put a pan of kitty litter out for them. I'm getting a little tired of shaking out and then washing poopy towels.

This morning, we all (minus Rebekah) witnessed the first two kitties figure out the purpose of the box. It was a joyous event...for me, especially. One of them missed the box (just like a kid, I suppose) and I sent Nathan for a tissue to clean it up off the floor. I had already gotten after the kids for the amount of litter scattered on the floor and in the water dish nearby. That's when it was "clean."

When I came out from my shower minutes later, I found my 9-year-old, side-by-side with my 20-month-old, playing in the now "dirty" litter box. Joseph had his hand buried in it! Leah and Nathan were sitting nearby. I obviously started yelling. Daniel reluctantly withdrew his digging tool, but left Joseph playing in the stuff right next to him. More yelling.

What the @$*^#? We DO have a sand box outside. They don't play in that. Of all the things to choose to play in, let's all choose the litter box. If we aren't already suffering from brain damage, we're bound to find a way to lose some grey matter before the day is out. Maybe it will be from the big smack to the head that mom will probably give us.

I may not have to worry about college tuitions...they'll all be dead by 16. Or I'll be in jail and living off the state.

Hard Knocks

It has been a long two weeks. Swimming lessons finally ended today and "none too soon," I say. We have been getting late lunches and naps (or no naps) and missing out on a lot of the afternoon. It has definitely taken its toll on me and the kids.

Today, we got a mini break between swimming and dentist appointments (4 kids - no cavities, I'm happy to report). After the dentist, we went to the fabric store because I wanted to catch the pattern sale and see what else was irresistible.

I went to a lot of fabric stores with my mom when I was a kid. I remember how BORING it was and how LONG we'd be there. It's finally time to take it out on a new generation. We were there over an hour. (Sorry guys. I didn't think it would take that long.) The dentist gives out balloons. Three balloons ended up on the ceiling of the store, two got rescued. I'm sure the fabric store employees were glad to see us and our 4 surviving balloons leave.

By the time we left the fabric store, it was dinner time. We met Chad at a Subway on the way home. The meal went fine, especially considering that we had 5 kids who had been out and about most of the day. The older kids had fun in the back corner of the store while the two younger ones finished up. As it was time to leave, the boys went out the door. Leah prepared to follow.

The restaurant has double doors - and exterior and interior...probably to keep bugs out, though the interior door was propped open. The doors are connected by the masonry wall of the building and a glass wall on the opposite side (forming the "hallway" between doors). Have I completely lost you? We were able to enter without any difficulty. As Leah made a plan in her mind for exiting the building, a mental connection was lost and she forgot the exact path she used coming in. I never saw the impact, but heard it and the resulting screaming. She'd run full speed (a good 20 feet) right into the glass wall, instead of going around it and through the door. She ended up on the floor. It left a nice big smudge where her cheek bone collided. That was a really clean glass wall.

Most mothers would probably be concerned for their child. I immediately looked for blood and then told Chad to get her out of the restaurant. It was just one more chink in my armor. I am done being a mother this summer! I finished cleaning up the table and headed for the door. I did have to shout at the boys who returned to the scene of the accident to gleefully reenact it. Now there are more smudges on the glass. Can we please not work the frazzled mother into a frenzy? It will be a while before we go back to a restaurant. And yes, I was trying not to laugh out loud after she went screaming outside. It must have been something to see. (I do feel sorry that she got hurt, but I'm having a hard time being really sympathetic.)

We'll see if she's got a black eye or other bruising in the morning. I'll be sure to post a picture if she does. She's lucky she didn't break the window (I'm glad for strong, thick safety glass) or her nose!

HELP

I was raised by a very exacting mother and absent father. I don't know if I have a normal set of expectations for my children. Often, I feel like I expect too much of them and am harsher than I should be because I'm not getting my expectations met.

Sometimes I get so frustrated that all I can think to do is pick up a stick and put a welt across their behind or a knot on top of their head. So I just yell at them, clench my fists and leave the room (or make them leave).

This summer has been particularly hard for me, being pregnant, in the heat, with 5 kids home all day and suddenly losing the freedom to call on Chad for help whenever I needed it.

Yesterday, Daniel joyfully tormented the people around him because he was bored. He was very glib about it...he was bothering people because he was bored. But he didn't want to do anything about being bored...he just wanted to bother people. I wanted to rip his nasty personality out through his nose.

This morning, Daniel made Leah sit down in a plate of play dough. Only one person thought that was funny. I was so stinkin' mad! I had given them the job to clean up their rooms and bathroom so they could vacuum and then bring the vacuum down to me to use. Nine o'clock and Daniel is in his pajamas, standing in the computer chair...doing some kind of nonsense. I lost all sense.

This is what I found in the bathroom upstairs. Cleaning products by a wet stuffed animal. I'm not sure if there is a connection. It surely won't surprise me to learn there is. A big tupperware bowl on the counter. Having a late night left-over binge? And this is the picture that doesn't bother me too much.

This is where I lost my mind. How many tissues do they really need? And when are they going to decide that the garbage can can't hold any more? See that big plastic bag? It's a garbage bag...from the last time they filled the trash can. Do I really need to show them the connection? And of course, no one knows how it got to be that way. THEY surely didn't do it. Maybe I should make them go outside to use the toilet or blow their nose. We won't notice a lot of extra leaves all over the ground.



I've grounded everyone and it is a work day...all day. My lazy, complaining kids are going to drive me nuts. I can't work all day! Joseph is already hanging on me and whining. It's only 9:15. I can barely get up the stairs without passing out.

But I am so done with these spoiled kids. Then again, are they spoiled? I don't know if this is just normal kid behavior and I'm off the deep end trying to make them into something they can't be. My mom told me once that she handled motherhood better...that's why her kids were better behaved. She wasn't raising my kids. And I'm not willing to travel some of the roads she did.

So I'm wondering, are my kids normal? Do you have the same problems with yours? Do you think everything is going smoothly and then hear an ear-piercing scream and listen as the universe crumbles while one evil villain smiles in satisfaction?

Truly, I'm not looking for advice. I just want to know that I'm going crazy with the rest of the world. Otherwise, I'll probably end up in the county lock-up. You can google my name later and find out all the horrible details.

I need an old farmer grandpa that I can send them to live with for 3 weeks. Don't those always have positive endings? Work them to death and see if they don't appreciate what they've really got.

It's Not Fair!!

That's Leah's new motto. We hear it a lot. Usually at very high pitches and in garbled language. Her life is very tough since she was born to a regular family with lots of other kids. She really misses her true destiny...as a spoiled princess.

I hope her future husband appreciates our efforts.

I hope she lives long enough to look for a husband.

I hope I don't get committed or incarcerated.

WE are going crazy

Thank you for calling the Mommy Help Me Line. We are experiencing an usually high level of stress at the moment. There may be some delay in assisting you. We apologize for the possible inconvenience. If you prefer not to hold, you could try some of these possible solutions to your problems on your own.

* If someone is hitting you, move farther away.
* If you are bored, go find something to do.
* If you are thirsty, get a cup and proceed to the easiest sink.
* If you are hungry, next time eat more lunch.
* If someone is looking at you, look back at them.
* If you have another superficial wound, wash it and waste another band-aid.
* If you feel like yelling at or striking your Mommy, be prepared for an unpleasant response.
* If you have a real emergency, hang on and you will be assisted within moments. The Mommy on duty is listening to determine if the crying is genuine.

We hope these suggestions are helpful. You will know when the Mommy Help Me Line is functioning normally again when we stop referring to ourselves as more than one person. Apparently, schizophrenia is a coping mechanism.

What I really mean...apparently

In my illustrious 9 years as a parent, I've learned that one language can be very flexible. It amazes me that something I think is so clearly expressed one way actually enters the immature brain and translates into something entirely different (usually opposite).

I can still clearly remember the time Daniel thought I said to go play in the mud, when I'd really told him to stay out of it. And how do you punish a 7-year-old for supposedly being obedient? He must have thought he had the best mother in the world as he was out there making a big mess.

So I've been mentally compiling some examples of bad translation. Maybe these aren't so specific to our family. (I surely hope I'm not fighting this one alone. That would be really unfair.) If you have any you'd like to add, in the slim chance I've actually missed one, please add it in the comments.

In no particular order:
(My words in bold...their translation following)

NO...Not right now. Ask me again in a few minutes.
Don't play in my room...Only play in my room when I can't see you.
No drinks by the computer...Well, it's OK if you don't plan to spill it.
NO...NO way you thought of that all by yourself! Go ahead with your genius idea!
Finish your food...Finish only the food you want to eat. Dessert is still coming because you want it.
Is your room clean?...Can we see the ceiling?
NO...Not enough emotion for me. Ask again, but this time, jump up and down. And I want to see REAL tears.
Be quiet, please...You might have been quiet if you could have heard the request in the first place.
Stop fighting...Stop being so gentle. If you're going to start it, get it over with quickly and efficiently.
NO...It only applies to the person who asked. YOU are cleared to go ahead with the plan, as long as you weren't dumb enough to ask permission.
It's time for prayer...Now is the time to shout out a bunch of nonsense so we can all hear you and give you the spotlight.
Someone feed the cats...The cats need food. Just thought I'd share my 'to do' list out loud.
Please be reverent...Beat up your brother silently...duh!
STOP...Please continue.
Stay out of my sewing room...Don't do any sewing in my sewing room. Otherwise, go ahead and completely enjoy yourselves.
Come here...Come when it's convenient.
NO...I just want to be mean to you.
Is your homework done?...Do you feel like you should be done with your homework?
Please share...One for her, one for her, one for him, one for him, the rest for you.
Please sweep the floor...Please use this broom as a weapon on the closest unfortunate soul.
I'm really getting angry...But I'm not mad enough yet.

Yeah, I've probably left some out.

And I'm not a completely negative person.

Great Job!/Nice picture./You look nice./Thank you./I love you...I love you. Thanks for being part of our family.

But I hope we can all learn the same language soon. It would really ease some of the stress around here!

I'm going to scream

Nathan is driving me insane. He keeps racing around the house, singing nonsense words in a pitch that would impress a first soprano.

The most frustrating thing is that he can't seem to stop himself. I may have to gag and bind him. The noise is more than I can take!

Maybe we can build a play shelter at the back of the pasture. I'll just ring the cow bell at meal times. If I feel like it.