Thursday, June 11, 2009

I Don't Like You ANYmore!



The lazy, hazy days of summer.

And trying to keep Reilly the Red, Captain Jake Sparrow, Nautical Nathan, One-Eyed Fred (post for another day), and myself, from going insane, and from incurring injuries that might require hospitalization, although that AFLAC duck is always quacking in the back of my mind......

Yesterday was a challenge.

And yes, I have been a mother for quite some time now. (whether or not I am a good mother or a bad mother remains to be seen).

And yes, I have a degree in psychology (with an emphasis in CHILD psychology).

But no, I have never spent a summer with my children that involved unstructured time.

And no, I have never spent a summer vacation with my children that involved unstructured time WHILST undergoing an Extreme Fallon Home Makeover Edition such as this.

Particularly since naps are out of the question seeing as how the noise from air compressors and nail guns and table saws and the like.

So when I say Captain Jake Sparrow had had enough, I REALLY mean it.

After supper, around 6:30, the Captain asked me if he could have some fruit snacks. I told him "No."

He got mad.

I gave him a reason - he had already consumed about eleventy thousand popsicles, and had not eaten all of his supper, AND, no, we do NOT have dessert or after dinner snacks every night, and YES it was my final answer.

He screamed at me, (which is HIGHLY unusual, because he really is a Mama's Boy):


And then he crossed his hands over his chest, and put out the grouper lip.

I told him to go his room and shut the door.

The meltdown intensified as he headed towards his room.

He opened the under cabinet kitchen trash door, then slammed it shut, on the way to this bedroom.

I came after him into his room, and gave him a Pow-pow (Piratese for spanking).

Then he REALLY got mad.

I shut his bedroom door, and as soon as I started to walk away, his screaming and crying intensified, and he began heaving and tossing all of his toys, shotput style, across his bedroom.

As I opened the door, a three-foot long tractor trailer was headed towards my face.

I ducked. (Dammit! AFLAC cash opportunity! What the hell was I thinking! Quack Quack)

Upon re-entering the Captain's room, he knew he was in for it big-time. It was only 630 pm. His newest punishment meant he had to stay in his room ('All by mySELF????') for the rest of the night. End of story. No more discussion.

I left his room to finish cleaning up the disaster from cooking supper.

When I checked in on him about 15 minutes later, he was doing a puzzle of the USA. I told him that was a great idea, and when he finished, we could talk about all the states we are going to travel to this summer.

He looked at me and said, "Mama?"

I said, "Yes?"

He said, "I like you again."

Okay, maybe I am a good mother.

Don't worry, my head won't get too big.

I'll screw up today big time, I'm sure.


1 comment:

  1. Poor Captain. I remember being that age and my Dad would tell me to "get a grip". That became part of my lingo as a kid and I can remember having a meltdown at four and screaming "I just can't get a grip! I can't!"

    Somedays it still holds true today. I just can't fling my toys anymore. On the upside, I can decide whether or not I get dessert after dinner!