Over the weekend, I watched “Battle Los Angeles” with Thomas. My choice. What can I say? I’m a sucker for alien invasion movies.
While I’m aware the movie is … well… not so great when it comes to alien/disaster/apocalypse kind of movies- I still have to say the blowings up of things and fighting was pretty spot on.
No, not for alien invasions- don’t you think you’d have heard of one that included blowings up by now if it happened? But no- not that. It’s spot on for basically EVERY single meal time in my house.
This is the part where I could tell you that my children drive me to the brink of sanity with the whining and complaining and bringing toys to the table after I tell them NOT to bring toys to the table- even after I BAN toys from the table. Or I could go on and on about how one child who shall remain nameless insists repeatedly that he doesn’t like a meal WITHOUT TASTING IT and acts like you’re coming at him with a lit blowtorch if you point a fork with food on it in his direction I could even bitch or moan about how, while the kids love veggies (no seriously, they LOVE them)- getting them to eat meat is like pulling teeth and the only way to do so for the same one who shall remain nameless is to tell him that unless he eats some EFFING PROTEIN… he will never be big enough or tall enough to ride the stupid rollercoaster that he talks about EVERY single day- even though as someone who can kinda do math, I know he won’t be able to ride it no matter how much meat he eats for probably 5 years.
BUT I won’t. Because this isn’t about that. The alien warfare like battles that we seem to fight every single night about at the dinner table has to do with the bathroom. Sigh.
After having many a meal time interrupted and then having to stuff my face with luke-warm food instead of piping hot (sometimes I swear cold would be better. Luke warm is just WRONG)- I learned the lesson that you must insist the children go to the bathroom BEFORE the meal. One must never slack on this insistence.
So, every single day we ask both children if they need to go- actually, we TELL them they need to go because I’m fucking hungry and I’m tired of getting up right after I take my first delicious bite of whatever I’ve slaved away on that probably isn’t that good but tastes amazing because I’m so damn tired and it’s the 2nd to last step before bedtime which makes it so much more satisfying.
Even with the asking and insisting and insisting and asking- both kids, EVERY day insist right back that they absolutely do not in any shape or form need to go pee.
“But there’s no pee in my pecker! It’s empty!”
Ugh. Boys. A simple “no” never suffices. I mean, how can you MAKE a kid go to the bathroom who doesn’t have to go? I’ve potty trained two little boys and spent the majority of those months of potty training IN the bathroom. I don’t want to repeat that shit. I didn’t like it then and I’m certainly not doing it now with kids who I KNOW can hold their urine for prolonged periods of time and are generally very good about indicating to me when they need to go.
One bite, two bite, three bites and a sip of my drink into dinner and suddenly I hear this timid little voice
“I’m gonna pee my pants!”
Timid because EVERY day they say they don’t need to go, and EVERY day I hear this shit- and EVERY day either Thomas or I responds with a “SERIOUSLY?” like we’re surprised and shocked this has happened as though it’s never happened before!
No. We just got duped.
Or did we?
Could it be that when food goes in suddenly they realize that something must come out? It can’t possibly be that they don’t want us to eat our meal while it’s still hot or that they are so incredibly stubborn that they’ll wait until everyone is seated to decide to announce they need a potty break even though they were JUST asked not even 2 minutes earlier and insisted they were on empty, right? No way! Sweet little children would NEVER do such a thing!
Last night we were finally making progress and guess who gets up in the middle of dinner because he just can’t manage to hold in a turd? Good ol’ Daddy Dearest. Now the kids will use the “when ya gotta go, ya gotta go” excuse- and SURE, we could dare them… but I think I’d rather interrupt dinner than clean liquid bowels from around the table.
I’ll wrap this up as I sometimes do: Ain’t being a parent grand??
I'm either "I HAVE 3 FRIES LEFT DON'T TOUCH MY PLATE!" or "Please take this so I can't eat any more of it!" There is no in-between.
Dear people writing articles on ways to get siblings to get along, I'll save you the time. The answer is "Don't let them play together"
Please stop Complimenting my kids’ “Good” Behavior goo.gl/fb/rwfojS
Hard pass from me pic.twitter.com/VayvW1eopK
I've gotten to the point where I'd let my kids summon a demon with a Ouija board before I'd let them play Monopoly together again.