Engaging Each Day with Action Words

Settle. — I hope you can earn it back tomorrow.

on November 26, 2012

Let me start by saying that I’m fairly certain this won’t be my freshly pressed moment, which is still a goal…. But this is how it went down tonight in my world.

Kiddos = wild tonight. After dinner, they sometimes like to play this game where they run, at full speed, as fast as they can, from the dining room in a straight line to the living room. At this point, they pounce on their father, who is armed only with a cushion from my couch.

They do this over and over and over…and over. There is Samarai-style yelling as they approach their target. Sometimes there is tag teaming and they land on top of each other, making a pile of family members in front of the fireplace. These are accompanied by gasps from me, the mother, who is watching at the ready, armed with band aids, ice packs and wet washcloths.

I sometimes flashback to my childhood and the wrestling matches that my brother and I had with our Dad in the living room floor before bedtimes. We were wild. But my Dad was even wilder! He showed no mercy as he laughed ‘along with us’, pinning us down or practicing his sleeper holds until I was screaming to be let loose. (Probably to this day, why I have problems with small, enclosed spaces!)  The worst was the move he lovingly called, “milk the mouse.” It is simple, yet deadly, something off of Kung Fu Panda no doubt. This move involves folding your pinky finger in half and squeezing. Right. Seems like nothing. but it hurts like hell and there is. nothing. you. can . do. to. escape. But cry and hope your Momma comes to your rescue . Soon.

At this point, my Mom would intervene by saying, “Gary, it’s no fun when they are crying!!”  That line still makes me laugh to this day.

So, tonight, I’m watching the kiddos attack their father with glee. Until, I see the boy child approach with an Iron-Man style first, arm stretched out, ready to punch. And then there was contact. Yells from the Dad, who has just been punched in the mouth. As the girl-child begins her approach and the Dad has to forcefully bark at the girl to… “S.T.O.P.!”

The dad is okay, because remember I had the ice pack ready….but the children are now upstairs pouting for a little while. That was actually a pleasant part of the evening. My best friend/partner/hubby and I had a few minutes to catch up on some conversation, which is always a gift.

Then the children returned with this note:

“Sorry Daddy. Can we play again? ❤ X”

And even with my protests that we should call it a night and settle down, the pouncing and running and the yelling began again. My Mommy-intuition went into overdrive and I started the announcements:

“Ok. That’s It. Games Over. No. Let’s Go. Seriously. Let’s Go. No. No. Really. Stop. Upstairs. Let’s Go. Teeth brushed. Meet me in the bathroom. No. Let go of Daddy’s leg. Do you want to walk or should I carry you? Y, I’m serious. Game Over. X. that is enough. It is bedtime. T, this is why you can’t play with them like this this late at night. They don’t know how to settle down. Ok, that is it. If I have to say it again, you go to bed 30 minutes earlier tomorrow. And there it is, you just lost 30 minutes. And now you have lost 30 minutes more. Keep it up, you are going to go to bed as soon as you get off the bus tomorrow. No. It is NOT time for a dance party. Get down off of your bed. No jumping. Nice moves, though X, for a white boy that is. Ok. Seriously, that is enough. ENOUGH! Did you hear me?!”

So you get the idea. And then I brilliantly said, “Ok, I think you both need to lose a privilege tonight.” Done. Magic words. All of a sudden, T, who was trying to help me settle the wild animals, began magically unhooking the little tvs that they each have in their rooms.

Oh my. First of all, I was super impressed that he/we were following through on what is usually an idle threat. Then I thought, Man, that is a lot of trouble….now he is just going to have to hook all of that nonsense up in the morning. Oh My, but an impression. It. Did. Make. The tears. The wailing. The sadness and regret that ensued from this point.

“No. Please. I’m sorry. I’M SORRY!” from the girl child. The boy child followed up with some drama, adding, “He’ll never give it back. And I like to play video games (truth be known he has one little plug in old school Frogger game, poor kid, he not know.) Then the girl child delivered the coup d’etat: “It is so unfair! I wish I were a grown up. Grown ups get to do everything. Kids don’t get to do anything!!! Grown ups get to take things away and be…. (wait for it) ….responsible!!!!”

I can’t make that up.

I think she just made my point for me. It was now beyond time to: Settle. Hide smiles and giggles as I continue with the tuck-ins.

Man, I love the flair at bedtime.



6 responses to “Settle. — I hope you can earn it back tomorrow.

  1. Edie says:

    I am still smiling after reading your blog for the second time. You should really consider writing a book. Can’t wit to read the next one.

  2. Jan says:

    Ah the memories! 🙂

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