I’m pretty sure that God has a wicked sense of humor. How do I know? Kids. I know that we’re all operating under the assumption that they are bundles of innocence and that they don’t start using their evil genius gene until much later in life…but I think we’re wrong. I think we’ve always been wrong on that front. I think that kids are born evil geniuses and that the baby manual they read in whatever class they secretly take outlines their core mission as this: F with your mommy and daddy. That’s right – F with your mommy and daddy.
My kids are cute. Adorable in fact. As one of my friends likes to say, God made kids that way so you don’t throw them out the window. But good Lord, they are a huge mind Fukushima (what exactly did you think I was going to say there?). And by the by – Fukushima – remember that nuclear disaster? See – it wasn’t just a placeholder word.
My kids have been very active this week in their effort to accomplish their core mission of driving me crazy. Let’s start with yesterday, shall we? I walked into the bathroom, and there was pee everywhere. I’m talking on the walls, the toilet seat, and the floor. When I asked my twin boys what had happened, the ‘younger’ one replied, “It fun to turn off the lights and pee in the potty.” This was clearly Act I in their evil plot to get me put away for good.
Act II started a little something like this – the older twin threw up yesterday morning. No worries – I consider it a victory in parenting skills (lots of experience, no doubt), because I was able to catch it all in a blanket rather than having it go all over the couch and floor…but I digress. Later in the day, my daughter came home from school complaining about a terrible stomach ache. “Oooooh Noooo!” my mind screamed. I kicked into mommy high-gear and started steering her toward the bathroom. She was wailing with the extent of the stomach pain. I rubbed her back. I whispered soothing words to her. She didn’t wind up getting sick, so I got her set up on the couch with a prepped trash can, etc. Um…as it turns out, she just hadn’t eaten her lunch at school, because she was too busy talking with her friends. After a hearty meal, she was right as rain…and I was one step closer to the land of crazy.
Act III is more of an ongoing thing. My twins are delighting in their newfound ability to dress themselves. Because they have achieved this glorious milestone, I also let them pick out their clothes (‘Let’ would be a strong word here, since they are freakishly picky about what they will wear). There are several problems with this. First, they often pick out similar outfits to wear, which makes me seem like that crazy twin mom who dresses her kids alike all the time. Second, they often wear their pants backwards, which bothers the control freak in me, but I’ve made peace with that since they don’t seem to mind. And finally, they don’t always choose to wear underwear (it’s not a forgetting to put it on thing – they truly choose to roam free, if you will). The first time I discovered this was at the playground. My older twin kept grabbing at his bum while he was playing in the sandbox. The mystery of what was wrong was solved when he walked over to me and dropped his pants. Much to my surprise – and the surprise of all the other moms present, he was wearing no underpants. You might think this would be a valuable lesson and that he now sports underpants each and every day, but you would be wrong.
I could go on and on about the deeds of my offspring. I could tell you about the time the boys hid the TV remote control behind the books stacked on the bookshelf or of the time one of my toddlers left the playground by himself without telling me, let himself into the house, and went upstairs to play. I could tell you about the two new holes in my freshly repaired and painted walls that were the result of a game the kids were playing with the ottoman while I washed dishes. I could tell you about all of these things and more, but not right now. Right now, I am going to make a reservation at a hotel for girls’ weekend – because that is much more appealing than booking an in-patient stay in a padded cell…which if I am right…is exactly where my kids are trying to send me.
Shannon Hembree is a SAHM for a first grader and twin toddlers. You can follow her on Twitter @Shannon1Hembree. You can also hire her to repair holes in your drywall, because she is getting to be darn near an expert in that. Happy Friday!