Teetering on the Edge

I can't believe I'm going to admit this. It's embarrassing really. Are you ready? Wait for it...wait for it....

I yelled at my baby today. Correction. I "raised my voice" at my sick baby. He's twenty months old and he's been suffering from a nasty cold for the past couple of days. But how much is a mom supposed to take??

He had been whining and crying for most of the day. He'd whine for some food so I'd put him in his highchair and place a snack on his tray. He'd reject the snack and start whining to get down. I tried feeding him all the things he liked but nothing seemed to satisfy him. Nothing, that is, except whatever I was eating.

Now, I'm the first to admit I'm territorial when it comes to food. I don't like sharing and I get a little squirm-ish if I see someone eyeing up my snack. I've learned to share small amounts with my children without resenting it, but I still have to do a mental pep talk and remind myself it's just a piece of food and they are my flesh and blood. After all, I'd die for them so I should be able to break off a morsel of chocolate without second...okay, third thoughts.

But I digress. Along with the continual whining, which wouldn't have been so bad on its own, he decided that today was the day to test all boundaries. He, quite literally, went from object to object getting into everything he knows not to touch. And what made it really intolerable was the look in his eye. I would say, "No, Kolten. Don't touch," and he'd put back whatever it was he had picked up. Then he'd look at me with this what-are-you-going-to-do look in his eye and walk straight to the next no-no.

I was soooo frustrated by the end of the day I decided to give another whack at the food thing. I put him in his highchair for supper and he immediately began to whine. And then the whining got louder. And louder. And then the other boys came upstairs.

"Mom, Connor told me I can't be Benen anymore?"
"I'm just telling him to be the bad guy."
"I don't wanna be the bad guy, I wanna be Benen."
"But then we can't play superheroes."

"Mom, Connor says I have to play superheroes."
"Mom, Benen won't play with me. What are you making? I'm hungry, can I have a snack?"
"I wanna snack, too. Can I have a snack."

Whine, whine, cryyyyyyyyy, bang, bang, screech.

The demands were growing, the baby was getting louder and I began to feel like a drowning woman who's head kept slipping beneath the waves. And then I snapped.

"QUIIIEEEEET!"

I've never seen my baby so shocked nor his eyes so wide.

"That's ENOUGH! Not a word!"

I proceeded to finish up in the kitchen and every time the baby let out a whimper I speared him with a look.

Now, anyone who thinks babies at that age don't comprehend much, are out to lunch. You are waaaaaay underestimating the ability these little ones have. I can look at my baby and say, "You see that cookie you dropped on the floor? I want you to go over, pick it up and put it right here on the table." Without batting an eye, he goes and does exactly what he's told. You can't tell me kids that age don't understand. I'll never believe that. Kids are intelligent and they live up to the expectations that are placed on them.

Again, I'm getting off track. Thankfully a few minutes later Dad in Shining Armour rode up on his trusty black diesel to save the day. Or at least salvage what was left of it. LOL!

Now, in my defense, I'd wager there's not a mother out there who hasn't lost it a time or two and demanded a little quiet. And if you're reading this right now and saying, "I've never done that," or "I'd never do anything like that," then perhaps you live in Stepford and bake cupcakes and cookies in cutesie dresses and high-heels.

But you can see I was pushed over the edge. And really, he's fine. I snuggled him before bed and sang to him and all's well. I'm just glad this day is over and we're at the start of a long weekend. It's Canadian Thanksgiving this weekend and I'm looking forward to turkey, stuffing, pie, chocolate, coffee and sleep. Lots of sleep.

Happy Thanksgiving! And if you're not Canadian, have a piece of pie on Sunday in celebration. At least it gives you an excuse. LOL!

Cheerios

I saw something strange the other day. I was standing in my living room and happened to glance out the window as these two teenage boys glided to a stop and hopped off their skateboards. The one boy reached down the front of his pants and pulled out a box of Cheerios. A whole box!! He opened the lid, reached inside and passed a handful of his snack to his buddy. Then he hopped on his skateboard, still holding the box, and continued to ride down the sidewalk while shoveling handful after handful into his mouth. GROSS!

Also, this past weekend, I saw young teenage boys wearing pants that were done up around their thighs, leaving all of their back ends hanging out! Scraggly hair, smelly t-shirts, shoes with laces untied. *Sigh*

What is it with teenage boys? Do they have a universal aversion to water, combs, clean clothes and pants that actually fit? Have they never heard of a belt? And that pants are supposed to cover their Hanes-clad behinds??

Don't get me wrong, I like boys. I love them actually and have three of my own who will all too soon reach the teen years. But is there any way to steer them down a different path? One paved with clean clothes, proper hygiene, pants that fit!??