I am convinced that every woman who births a son should be given the following immediately after the delivery.
1. Ear plugs
2. Shin guards
3. A lifetime of “fix it” products from Home Depot
4. A large file of pre-written letters of apology to teachers, other parents, coaches, neighbors, and anyone else they may come in contact with between birth and oh, age 30.
5. Valium. Lots of valium.
Mr. Cooper got in trouble in school again today. This time for spitting. Seems another boy started it by spitting on boy #3. Cooper decided to retaliate even though he wasn’t involved to begin with, and spit on Boy #1. Then Cooper and Boy #1 ganged up on Boy #3 and next thing ya know, spit was flying everywhere. Gross with a capital G. Nothing grosses me out much faster than spit. Well, puke, but that’s a whole ‘nuther level. Ick.
Anyway, this week they were coloring carnations by placing white flowers in water with food coloring, and watching the white flowers turn color over a period of 3 days to illustrate how the flower drinks up the water. As we walked from school to the car today, I was reprimanding him for the spit incident when he grins at me from ear to ear, disregards that I’ve just verbally lashed him, and holds his flower out to me as he says “Mommy…I love you so much…here. You can have my flower. You’re not mad are you?” Sheister all the way. I’m telling you, this child was created with a salesman gene in him like I’ve never encountered. Watch out world….
We got home and while I began to make lunch in the kitchen, I hear him doing something in the living room and then I hear him screaming “MMA!” at the top of his lungs. For anyone who doesn’t understand the reference, that would mean “mixed martial arts”, as in, those guys who beat the tar out of each other on t.v.
I come into the living room to see what he is doing, only to find that he has moved an ottoman to the middle of the room and is taking flying leaps from it onto the couch as he yells “MMA, all the way!” Not wanting him to crack his head open on the hardwood floors, or the wall, or a table, I tell him to knock it off. He doesn’t, of course, which results in me bringing him to his time out chair in his bedroom.
When we arrive at his room, I glance at his window treatments and notice something a little “off”. I ask him “Cooper, why are all of your levolor blinds snapped in half?” to which he replies with a smirk “because it’s fun, Mommy.”
Lordy, lordy, lordy. I’ll have a healthy dose of #5 from my list, please….
Sorry, I know it is wrong, but I have to laugh! Been there. This too shall pass…then it will be on to something else. Have you met Collin? Same, just different packaging.
It’s okay, Kristine. Perfectly acceptable to laugh. Doug did. Plus, I think if you’ve actually experienced any of the above, then you earn the right to laugh at those of us who come after you. I know I plan on laughing at some frazzled mother of a 3 year old boy someday…if I make it through this.
I did not laugh when I read this because I’m having similar issues with my children. Is it summer that makes them crazy? Aiden actually laughed at me while I was attempting to punish him…GAWD! If you find that valium, you have my address, right?
he is going through a PHASE – at least, that’s what i repeat to myself when i want to strangle myself on a daily basis because i think i’m going to lose it on arden.
did i tell you 3 was worse than 2?
LOL! I would like to add “child sized straight jacket” to the list, if that’s alright with you.
Sorry he’s been rolling from one thing to the next, but you seem to be doing a great job in keeping yourself together despite the antics.
that cooper. such a stinker! I’m dealing with a similar rebellious stage right now too. Homey is right, 3 is worse than 2. I can’t tell you how many times Chloe has talked back and waved her finger at me this week. So much attitude already. It is exhausting.
Everyone needs to stop saying 3 is worse than 2 because it’s scaring the ever-living hell out of me.
That list above also applies if you have a very tomboyish little girl. Trust me, it does. Ellie was knocking kids over left and right this week at daycare. And she likes to spit on me and her dad. Lovely.
Please be a phase, please be a phase.
Three? Two? Oh my don’t even get me STARTED on 15 year old boys! Fireworks? Expensive electronics mysteriously appearing from nowhere? Flexible curfews? Please enjoy every second of your baby boys……
LOL @ Lori! THAT is the age I am truly terrified of!
One time my friend (who didn’t have kids at the time but about 27 nieces) went to Disneyland with the kids and I. She was always saying how she never wanted boys and I just blew her off saying she’d be happy with whatever. Well, at one point we were standing around talking and we look over just at the precise moment Jared is SUCKING UP THE LINE OF SPIT OUT OF HIS MOUTH THAT HAD ALMOST REACHED THE GROUND! Nasty! My friend of course says ‘SEE?! *THAT*! THAT RIGHT THERE is why I NEVER want a boy!’ BWAHAHA – she now has a girl that gets into fights at school and headbangs to rock music! LOL
Oh.My.God. You must really sleep well at night from the exhaustion of keeping up with him and laughing your ass off. Holy Cow.
I remember one particular incident when my son was 5. He and a neighbor boy decided it would be fun to take the decorative rocks from another neighbor’s yard and throw them one by one across the street onto another neighbor’s grass and in the process barely missed a few cars and littered the street with the rocks! I had a lovely little visit from one of the drivers…uh, OMG that couldn’t be MY kid! Ha, I then made him pick up every single one of those rocks and put them back!