By the time I'm able to sit down for a few minutes I've already got one of the kids telling me something about the other one. They're ratting each other out like its an Olympic sport.
"Mom, he's touching me! Stoooop! Quit touching me!"
"Well, I'm not exactly touching you. I have my hand approximately one inch from your abdomen and tehcnically that's not touching you."
"Moooooom, that's so not fair! Make him stop!"
"Ouch! Mom, she hit me!"
The dreaded words, "I'm bored," have been uttered in this house about 189,493 times, in one day. By one child. I have three. See my problem???
These kids act like I'm killing them every time I suggest an activity and they go out of their way to act like they're dying, truly dying, of boredom. If my daughter doesn't major in Theatrics in College then you can collect your twenty bucks. I swear, she's as dramatic as they come and I'm so screwed when she hits the pre-teen years.
Anyway, I've resorted to forcing them to do things, like go to the pool (oh the horrors) and they have fun once they get there but Good God All Mighty the effort involved just getting them stuffed out the door is mind-numbing.
And I've come up with some responces for the kids hounding me 24/7 about how bored they are. While I want to be involved in what the kids do, I believe they need to sort out some of their own issues. So I've been saying this on a regular basis:
"Is there blood?"
"Are you dying?"
"Are you even close to dying?"
"No??? Then please work it out and leave me pee. ALONE."
And it's been like that in our house for the last few weeks. I'm a glorified referee, the kids are slowly driving me insane and I'm exhausted. Add to it, the heat, Oh My God the heat, and I think someone may discover our dead bodies after the fact.
|Cool down on Monday!!!|
So I've been silent, not visiting my friends, not blogging as much and generally been absent because at this point I'm just trying to survive.
And sometimes I think surviving is enough.