Sassy Mama: Supernanny wouldn't approve

I'm prone to doing that---falling off the radar. In fact, you have to be lucky enough to live with me or to have fathered/mothered me to hear from me daily. Life has been life...work, work and more work. And Christmas is killing our budget. Just ripping it into tiny, teeny, shreds.

Every morning for the past week, the phrase, "Good morning, let the chaos begin!" has pranced through my brain. It's been that bad.

On the funny news front, today Lovemelots, my second-oldest man-child (6 years old) told me he was making "drivels" in class in the next day or two. I said, "Huh?" He said, "Drivels Mooommmm....you knowwwww." (Did I mention that LML loooovvveeeesss to whhhhhiiiiinnnnneeeee?) No, I don't know. And since he has a certain humilating habit of wetting his pants at school, I was afraid to know what he was talking about. Turns it out it was harmless "Dreidels" he was referring to. Good to know.

Ornery Tiger Cub has taken to talking back to me in the worst way. Ornery Tiger Cub is the third born man-child in our family. Today he poured milk on the dining room area rug and proceeded to do a little jig on it, ala "Lord of the Dance." The only reason I turned around is because I could hear his little feet tapping away and it was about to drive me over the edge...ordinarily dancing isn't prohibited in our household but with the trolls that live downstairs it is strictly a no-no. Our downstairs neighbors have NO tolerance for joy. There shall be no joy as long as we live OVER their roof.

Anyway, I turn around and there's OTC (ironically enough, OTC is also the abbreviation for "Over the Counter" as in "meds" as in "what I've needed ever since OTC was born---I'm not shitting you") doing his jig and I see what's he done and I send him to the corner telling him about how making messes is not good and wasting milk, thus money, is also not good. As I leave him in the corner he turns around to me, all attitude, and says, "Excuse me, what did you say to me?!" Okay, so he probably learned that from me. Still not good. Sorry Nanny 911 but I veered right off their prescribed naughty chair/corner with that remark. Afterwards I looked him sternly in his eyes and said, "You don't talk to your mommy that way." And as I'm walking away he said, "Wh-at-ev-errrrr." Dear Lord in heaven, I just about lost it again. Breathe mama lion, breathe.

But sometimes OTC can be quite funny. An evening about a month ago he marched right to our bedroom door in a fit of frustration. Behind that closed bedroom door was his sleeping father (who at the time was still employed at the pharmaceutical company in the security department and worked graveyard shift hours). As he turned the door knob I yelled, "WAIT OTC, before you march into the lair of the sleeping papa lion, perhaps you should come tell mama what the problem is first."

All he heard was "stop." And that was just too much. He slumped himself over one of the dining room chairs, which in this tiny apartment, is only like, five inches from my bedroom door, and lays his head down. I think, "gee...something has got my boy down." I say to him, "Really OTC, it's alright...tell mama what is wrong." He lifts his exasperated and exhausted face to look at me and sighs, "It's just....it's just, my brothers are acting like apples." Okay....are you saying your brothers are fruits? Geez, now I'm glad I stopped you from telling your father that. But wait, you are only three-years-old, what do you know about males who act like fruits? So to clarify I asked the question I ask nearly hourly, day in and day out of my life----"What?" He says, "Apples! They're acting like apples!" And then I got it....and I started laughing and couldn't stop myself for quite awhile, eventhough I knew I should discipline him for attempting to call his brothers assholes.

That's my life....a sassy three-year-old son who calls his brothers the names of fruit in fits of frustration (which opens up a whole other way of code speak...does Banana=bastard?) and a six year old that can't pronounce dreidel correctly and makes me think he is planning his next few "accidents."

And I haven't even started on Astroboy (the oldest man-child) and Pebbles (the youngest child and only girl) and their antics for the last month or so. Because I'm tired and the bed is calling and frankly, internet, you're not. You're just a white screen right now.

Good nite.