Typical Saturday morning. Up out of bed way to early. Partly because the "work" alarm went off at 4:30, and my Saturday alarm went off at 6:15. The plan was to get up before anybody else, and be ready to go so I could give them undivided attention. bahahah! You'd think getting two boys dressed, fed and out the door within 1 1/2 hours would be easy. NOT. So, today the simple task of applying mascara took me about 40 minutes. e had a few interruptions, and with each:
1, 2, 3....10
"Go to the bench"
You're not going to get your sticker
I'm not telling you again
1,2,3....
I asked you to come here
Where are your shoes
1,2,3,4,5,6
You're running out of time
Hands are not for hitting
"Go to the bench"
No, you can't do that right now
Get in the van
my patience grew thinner and my voice a little louder. As shocking as this will be to most of you, cause I'm so calm, cool and collected normally, I yell at my kids sometimes. By the time we got to the van I think all four of us were yelling, and at least two were crying.
It didn't matter that E. had 10 minutes to eat. We had set the timer set, and made expectations clear. He knew if he didn't eat he'd be hungry. (we've been down this road before.. daily) It didn't matter, that instead of eating he chose to pout, and hide in his room until 1 minute was left. So, of course when we forced him into the van instead of resetting the timer, it was our fault he was starving.
I got the kids buckled in, the crying which hasn't stopped, escalates. "Daddy, DADdy, DADDY!" Elijah is screaming at this point, fearful he is doomed to ride to Upwards with this mean mommy and not with his perfect father.
I'm trying to explain that I am simply backing the van up so Daddy can open the door. (two cars in the garage with stuff = no room on passenger side to open door) If I could just get him to hush, long enough to listen. Sigh.
I calmly (insert sarcasm) stop the van and as Rex gets in the car continue trying to reason (broad use of the word, use your imagination)with him; but its too late and everything has now escalated for Elijah to that point. That point where he can no longer self-regulate his emotions and intervention is required to talk him down. I am now the Intervention Specialist.
Now, I will also confess that I'm usually on sensory overload- at least 3-4 people trying to get my undivided attention at the same time, so I unfortunately almost always tune somebody out. I'm working on this, it's a whole other blog.
This was the case this morning, so focused on the "squeaky wheel" I didn't hear Isaiah exclaiming - "Let's don't panic people. Let's don't panic. Let's don't panic people."
He had been saying this for a while but I wasn't listening. He finally yelled it over the chaos, and since he now was including hand gestures he captured our attention.
I suppose it must look like panic to them sometimes. And, I know for me it feels like panic sometimes.
Rex and I started to chuckle, and stepping outside of the chaos, realized it must be hysterical should anyone be watching from the outside.
Our lives aren't pretty people, but it is, what it is.
I think maybe by baby has some good advice.
Buahaha! I think this should be our catchphrase from now on! Love. that. boy!
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