My sons are alive today at this moment because I’m a saint. Ok, I might be exaggerating a little but not by much.
Tornado E is on the throttle taking a supervillan’s pleasure in antagonizing the hell out of Tornado S. Tornado S retaliates by either hitting or screaming or both. This has been going on for several days, perhaps even weeks. Then today the screaming started before 7am. Then while I was feeding Tornado A his mid-morning meal, the boys that would be an absolutely awesome idea to wash their hair with hand soap. And to make matters even more fun, Tornado S poured a water bottle filled with water onto the kitchen floor.
I wanted to scream. I wanted to beat. I wanted to send everyone to time out for hours.
Instead, I placed a sleeping Tornado A in his bassinet. I told Tornado E to figure out how he was going to get soap out of his hair. I gave Tornado S a rag to dry up the water.
But I fear I’m losing control. I have to repeat myself several times to get them to do what I ask. Tornado E is now name calling. Tornado S cries and screeches when things don’t go his way. It’s like pulling teeth to get them to pick up their toys or get ready for bed.
I’m not sure if this is a phase. But I’ve been telling everyone it is. I don’t know if they’re just testing the lines. I don’t know if this has something to do with having a new baby in the house. I don’t know if this has to do with their allergies acting up.
I do think if I started cracking down, they would be in time out all the time. Which might have to be done. And I wonder if I spent more time with them having fun that they wouldn’t act out so much. But I spend Tornado A’s nap time trying to get them to clean and yelling at them as they pick on each other. I just hate the yelling all the time.