Demon Changilings

So last night I’m pretty sure my boys were replaced by demon spawn.  I’m wondering if there is a cure or a way to bring my boys back.

It started this morning when they bounced in my room all goddamn perky at 5:45.  Not ready-to-kick-some-ass-and-take-some-names energetic, I’m-the-head-cheerleader-and-prom-queen-perky.  At FIVE-FORTY-FIVE in the MORNING.  I don’t do perky well most of the time.  I can’t stand it early in the morning.  I’ll kill and eat it first thing in the morning.  But these are my boys and I tried to get them to snuggle for another fifteen minutes.  Only they jumped around and giggled and made strange noises at each other.  I was less than amused and made everyone leave the room at 6am, so that I could snooze on the couch while they watched TV.

But it wasn’t long before they were in my face demanding breakfast, which they usually don’t do until the decent hour of 7, and by that time, I’m either fixing breakfast or done making it.  While it wasn’t unusual that they whined when I clicked on the news, they were glued to the TV as it talked about the Moscow bombing.  Awesome.  That’s all I need my boys to watch.

Bath time went surprisingly smooth, which I think chalks up to the whole demon spawn theory because the boys love to antagonize the hell out of each other in the bath.

I should have known that grocery shopping was going to be hell because they both ran from me when it was time to get in the car.  After they had a nice long chat with our sweet neighbor and showed him all their sword fighting moves.  They ran, and my neighbor felt obligated to talk to Tornado E about listening to his mother.  Yup, a proud moment for me.

Why did I let them bring their swords into the car?  Because I’m an idiot.  But we’re going to have a new rule about swords in the car because I can’t have them sword fighting over the head of the baby.  My mom suggested I actually use the third row of seats to separate the boys better.

So we went to the first grocery store where I promptly lost control of the boys after I had them pick out apples to buy.  They ran.  They yelled.  They danced.  They made such a cacophony of unholy noise that it was apparent that I had no control of the situation.  Until the last aisle. Where they listened and helped put things in the basket.  Then we got to self check out where they pulled the bread display over to us.  They were separated and made to stand next to me on either side until I finished.

For some reason I felt I needed to finish the grocery shopping and head to the main store.  I should have quit while I was ahead.  But I didn’t.  Control was lost within moments of entering the store.  I couldn’t get them to settle down by helping me.  I couldn’t get them to settle down with threats of riding in the cart.  I couldn’t get them to settle down in the cart.  Within three aisles we were having a Discussion.  And I had to grab Tornado E’s mouth to get him to stop making noise as I talked.  I had to grab Tornado S’s head to look him in the eyes as I talked.  Somewhere The Voice appeared and some veiled threat about, oh I don’t know, selling them here at the grocery store or maybe it was just bedtime as soon as we got home without lunch or school, and the boys settled down to annoying rambunctiousness, not obnoxious rambunctiousness.

I nearly barked with laughter when the boys, with sweet honey voices and angel eyes, asked if we could go to Burger King for lunch as I packed the car with groceries.  Are you f-ing kidding me?!  With the way you acted, you’ll be lucky if I take you ANYWHERE in public again.

So we headed home where I could put away groceries and make lunch to the sounds of arguing, whining, antagonizing, howling.  Blissful silence reigned only while their mouths were full, and they were content.  Until I packed us in the car to go to Tornado E’s school.

During the ride, Tornado S cried in rage as he was defeated time and time again by a baby toy that would not do as he wanted.  Tornado E shouted out directions.  I prayed for a lightening strike.  When we got to the school, Tornado E decided he would take his sweet time in getting out of the car, and Tornado S was still inconsolable about the baby toy.  After I extracted Tornado S from the car with tears and all, I found Tornado E trying to take a chopstick to school.  One chopstick.  I took it away and threw it back into the car.  Tornado E preceded to hit my leg.

TIME OUT!

He stood for five minutes on the intersection of parking lot lines. Tornado  S was dumped in the back of the SUV to finish throwing his temper tantrum.

After the time out was completed, I held Tornado E’s hand, whispering the usual mantra of school lessons, “Listen to your teacher; keep your hands to yourself; play gently with the other children.”  I carried a sullen Tornado S on my hip.  As usual, Tornado S wanted down the minute we stepped onto the curb, but instead of running ahead, he moped around until I felt like I had to drag him as Tornado E ran ahead to make up for his tardiness.  Tornado E was in his class sitting on his mat by the time Tornado S and I got there for me to sign Tornado E into his class. And then Tornado S let out a mighty cry when I told him it was time to go.

So I did what I usually do, what any sane parent would do, I threw him over my shoulder and stormed out of there.  “What did you do?” called another mother from her car.  “He needs a nap!” “I don’t need a nap!  No nap!  No home!  I don’t want to go in the car!  I don’t want to go home!  I don’t want to-“  Yup, I dumped him on the parking lot to get to my keys.  I unlocked the car, nearly threw a screaming, crying Tornado S into his car seat, locked him into his seat, shut the door, and started humming some BS happy song in my delusional state.

Yes, he cried all the way home.  Yes, he cried as I carried him to bed.  Yes, he cried as I dumped him into bed and took off his shoes.  I shoved the binky in his mouth and the blanky in his hands and pulled the covers up.  I sped through an ABC book, ignoring the crying.  I kissed his head, said goodnight, and walked out.

Yes, I’ve eaten half a bag of chocolate chips, and the day is only half over.

12 Responses to “Demon Changilings”

  1. Maureen@IslandRoar Says:

    Aw, man. What can I say? Been there; it sucks. At my kids’ ages they just roll their eyes and scream they hate you, you don’t understand. Oh, wait, that sounds like your kids’ ages, doesn’t it??
    Yeah, no swords in the car. I think I even had a “no touching” rule in the car. I probably still do.
    On the bright side, you made me laugh with your writing. It’s so good!
    I hope tomorrow starts a bit later…

  2. unabridgedgirl Says:

    * HUGS *

  3. Fie Upon This Quiet Life Says:

    Wow. This made my day seem so much better. I am impressed you didn’t kill someone.

    I try to avoid all outings with the two kids. I have had some moments in Target when I had to go with both of them, and boy did I regret it. Of course, the baby just lies in his stroller (crying or not), but the 4-year-old has to touch everything and run away from me, and whine and knock things down, and you can imagine what else… just everything. It’s hell. I try to run errands, as much as I can, after they are in bed. Very inconvenient, but until I can count on eldest to act like a reasonable human being, that’s the way it has to be. (And by the time eldest is old enough to be reasonable, then the baby will be a hellion, I’m sure. Can’t win!)

  4. Jane Says:

    Oh my gosh. Please don’t hate me for saying this – but – thank GOD that wasn’t me and my two boys. A day from hell, for sure! But you made it out alive and everyone is still in one piece. Here’s hoping tomorrow is better. Much, much better!

  5. sparrow1969 Says:

    Boy does that remind me of when my boys were little. Hang in there…your patience will pay off when they are old enough to help mow the lawn, move furniture and lift other heavy things. My boys are 15 and 17 now, but when they were little there were days when I felt like I understood what my mom when through with me when I was little. I remember her telling me one time through clenched teeth that if I didn’t behave, she was going to sell me to the first band of gypsies that rolled through town. I mostly didn’t believe her…mostly! I only heard it the one time, so I guess she saved it for extreme circumstances…lol.

    I hope this note find you having a much better day!
    Sparrow

  6. Gibby Says:

    “I prayed for a lightening strike.”
    I’m so glad I’m not the only one.

    Oh, Fae, what a day! If it makes you feel any better, you wrote this so awesomely that I felt like I was right there with you. Whether or not I wanted to be, LOL!!!

    Go finish that bag of chocolate chips.

  7. zeemaid Says:

    awww Fae. all this and pregnant too. Maybe I ought to send over some of that really good chocolate! Cause you know I can’t very well send you wine 😉

  8. faemom Says:

    Maureen~ As long as you laughed, it was worth it.
    unabridgedgirl~ Thanks. I needed that.
    FUTQL~ You know Bill Cosby says you aren’t a real parent until you have more than one. Congratulations. Oh, and buy the eldest a leash.
    Jane~ My job is done if the boys are alive by the end of the day.
    sparrow~ I think I may just use your mother’s threat. And thanks for the reassurance they won’t always be like this.
    Gibby~ Chocolate makes everything better.
    zeemaid~ I would be thrilled with chocolate.

  9. Fie Upon This Quiet Life Says:

    Bill Cosby’s right. Taking care of one kid? Geez… that seems like a total piece of cake now that I have two. I DO have a leash for eldest around here somewhere. I need to find it. He’s out of control when I go out with him and baby together. Grr…

  10. faemom Says:

    FUTQL, I wish I could give you some expert advice to help you. Some magic word or code. But I’m beside myself when they act out and confused when they’re angels.

  11. joz1234 Says:

    Wow! You have such great control over your emotions for a pregnant lady. Glad you got through it. Mighty impressed.

  12. faemom Says:

    That’s because I can rant here. Every time something goes awry, I think I bet this’ll make a good post.


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