I read on Amalah’s blog yesterday all about how her boys fight all the time, about silly things. (It’s a funny post – reminds me of my childhood.)
It also made me smug, because honestly, my boys almost never fight. It’s very, very rare. They wrestle, but it’s all in good fun. About the only time you hear harsh words between them is when they’re trying to co-play a video game and Harry gets a bit too “my way or the highway” about it.
Ah, hubris. You are a harsh, cruel mistress.
Today, Louis, Ron, and Pixie have been at each other’s throats ALL DAY.
Louis won’t play with Pixie, tells her she’s making “annoying sounds” (kettlepot alert!). Ron is correcting Louis’ behaviour every five minutes. Pixie won’t stop pouting and whining.
I just broke up a fight about, of all things, whether or not Pixie had a sandwich for lunch. (Newsflash, Louis: she does. She’s eating it where you can see her right now. Now stop talking and eat your spaghetti before I put vodka in my water bottle.)
Part and parcel of the fighting unfortunately is the tattling. And the whining. OH GOD THE TATTLING AND WHINING. For even more delightful, magical Time With Precious Children, they have now combined the tattling & whining together into something else. Whinitting? Tattlewhinge? I don’t know what to call it, but it sounds like this:
“Han-NAAAAAAH! Pixie is sayin’ today is Valentine’s DAAAAAAAY. It’s NOOOOOOOOOT.”
“Han-NAAAAAAH! Louis won’ PLAY wif’ MEEEEEEEE!!!!!”
Two years ago, when Arthur first started coming here, he was the whiniest creature on earth. Like, he was really bad. Every word out of his mouth was whined. Like Louis, he was honestly startled when I asked him to use his talking voice, not his whining voice. He didn’t seem to understand what I meant, and it was a hard struggle for him to learn how to talk normally.
But he did it. He still whines something fierce with his parents, when he thinks I’m not listening, but he hasn’t whined at me in at least a year. Maybe longer. So, there’s hope. I guess.
Having a hard time seeing it today, though.
The moment when my patience finally snapped, with a dry dusty sound:
Louis: Han-NAAAAH!! Daisy is takin’ my THIIIIINGS! (said ‘things’ being alphabet fridge magnets, so something that there is 26 of)
Me: Louis, you need to work out a way to share, OK? You don’t need all of them.
*overheard sounds of scuffle*
Louis: DAAAAIIIISYYYYYY!!! Gi’ me back those THIIIIIINGS!
Daisy: *angry crying*
I looked over, and there was Louis, with most of the magnets on the floor so he could stand on them, trying with all of his might to pry Daisy’s chubby little baby fingers off the letter “S”.
Me: Louis, let go of that! Daisy just wants to hold one. Please put the rest back on the fridge, and if sharing is making you too mad, go play with something else for a little while, OK?
Louis: NOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!! *flings himself on the floor, sobs hysterically*
And then Daisy threw the letter “S” at his head.
Like an idiot, I baked a batch of cupcakes as a special Valentine’s Day treat. It was Ron’s idea and he’s a good kid who puts up with a lot of shit here every day, so I said sure. I made plain white cupcakes, frosted with white buttercream and decorated with just a sprinkle of red sugar.
OH MY GOOD CHRIST NEVER AGAIN.
Pixie vibrated all through storytime like a junkie looking for a fix. Louis took 90 minutes to fall asleep. Daisy barely touched hers and she’s been whining loudly in her sleep.
It’s now 2:35PM, the older boys are getting off the bus in ten minutes, and the last restless child just settled. So much for afternoon break. Foo.
Did your kids tattle? If you got them to stop, you’re some kind of witch. Please tell me how you did it. I will send you cash monies. And a half-dozen Valentine’s Day cupcakes.