Today was going to be my day to get started on my blog...to wax poetically about the challenges and triumphs of being a mother to 4 boys. I had big plans for explaining how I manage to stay sane, while imparting a sense of love and kindness to my children.
...that's all gone out the window.
While sitting here my 7 year-old quietly snuck in behind my chair, and stood there...waiting for me to ask him "What's up?" I finally asked the needed question, after realizing he would win this waiting game..and got this response: "You know how sometimes uh, Baby Boy likes for me to push him down on the ground when we are playing 'James Bond'?"
Now, think about that question..."You know how my brother likes me to push him down..."
"No, son, I don't think that I knew your brother liked for you to push him down on the ground..."
Anyway, he continued..."Yeah, uh, well, he wanted me to push him down and, uh, I did, and he's crying in your room now...but he wanted me to do it, Mom."
"Tell your brother to come see me." (Keep in mind, still trying to think peaceful, loving, motherly thoughts.)
The 4 year-old comes in, tears streaming..."MOM!! HE PUSHED ME DOWN ON THE GROUND!" 7 year-old "BUT YOU WANTED ME TO!!!" "NO, MOM!!! NO, I DIDN'T WANT HIM TO PUSH ME!!!" "YES YOU DID, YOU TOLD ME TO PUSH YOU DOWN!!" "NO!!" "YES!!!"
At this point, my loving, motherly response flows from my lips..
"Both of you get out of my office, and get your butts to bed."
And so it goes....