Wednesday, July 10th 2013
Don’t Read This, Mom.

If that title is still all screwy, it reads “Don’t Read This, Mom.” She doesn’t like it when I’m gross. And I’m being gross. I have a tech-y  help request in with that whole title problem thing. Just so you know.

It’s hard to have 3 boys and not be gross from time to time, though. I mean, REALLY. And also? Long as we’re discussing this. It’s hard to have 3 boys and NOT have a pair of handcuffs on your nightstand. It’s perfectly innocent. They’ve been there for ages. It means nothing, except, HELLO I HAVE 3 BOYS and I had to take those away at some point in the middle of a 3 boy handcuff fight and that’s the only reason they’re on my nightstand. Show me a mom with 3 boys and I’ll show you a dirty bathroom. Show me a mom with 3 boys, and I’ll show you a nightstand with handcuffs. It’s just standard.

Anyway.

For a few days there, it was bad. Caden-9yr and I stared at the ceiling and discussed how now we knew the taste of hot germ chunks that came straight from within our lungs, and we wish we didn’t. You know how when on a cooking competition show someone serves the judging panel something like ‘squid ink ice cream with deep fried gluten free spaghetti garnish’ and you’re like, “oh. Those are the only people in the world who share that culinary experience. Ew.” Kinda the same thing with Caden-9yr and me. Like, WOW. We really have essentially licked our infected lungs. And it was not good. Uniquely bonding, sure, but nasty.

i’m no longer tasting hot germs all the time, and then brushing my teeth to try to get rid of it.

this is improvement.

perhaps i shouldn’t have mentioned here i was sick. it invited the opportunistic to be even fiercer than usual. but whatever. i’m still tougher, even on my sickest day, and you do NOT want to mess with my Hot Germ Breath. (you might want to back up, buddy, i feel a cough coming on.)

yesterday to add a little variety to life, we went to my mom’s house and i flopped like a wet sock at HER house instead of mine. And instead of my dad and stepmom’s. Spreading the love around.

I fell asleep in her guest bedroom window seat in a sunbeam.

This morning I must be better. Creativity is returning. Creativity in parenting is returning. There’s energy for that, so this must be good. From my perspective. Not from Ethan-13yr and Caden-9yr’s perspective.

They got into a really ridiculous argument last night. I was not up to it. I put them to bed and told them they’d be “screen free” until they successfully resolved the issue with me and with each other as long as necessary.

This morning i assigned them a large-ish laundry task that was to be completed as a team, respectfully, with kind communication, and then they were to report on their success and how they accomplished said harmony.

Total instant fail.

Discord in the hall.

I had them sit in my bedroom and hold hands and sing Kumbaya.

First I had to teach them.

And explain it was kinda a 70s thing, as far as I knew. And it means, “come by here, Lord” i think, and that was exactly what they needed because they weren’t ever seeing another screen again as long as they were acting like this.

They held hands. They closed their eyes and reverently sang Kumbaya. I hid my face under the covers so they wouldn’t see me laughing. I wondered if I could video it, but figured I couldn’t get away with it. Then they started fighting over whose underwear Caden-9yr was wearing and I made them start over.

When they were finished I sent them to resume their laundry assignment and told them if they could not complete it with respect and teamwork and kindness I would think of something else they could do besides hold hands and sing. They seemed motivated.

Laundry task completed. They chatted happily and worked together and have no clue how or why they managed to do that. But whatever. They did it.  Kids spaced out in front of screens all over the house.  Success.

I’ll make them move and do stuff later. For now, it’s not bad.

For now, it’s actually really pretty good.

Kumbaya.

~hm

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