Dearest family and friends. You love my children through me. Because they are an extension of me they know you. This means my sanity and I have first dibs on your love. Out of that love you purchase them things. For the sake of everything that is holy and sacred; my sanity and I request when you purchase your gifts, to keep us in mind. Loud, messy, gifts only hurt those that you love. Firstly my sanity and I (whom I've just informed you that you love more), secondly those kids (you kind of like). Future presents should be tested in your own house for a week. If you don't want to snap necks afterwards, my arms are open. Parents I know you feel you have exclusivity rights on torturing your children. This isn't true. You have spanked us, grounded us, and by cosmic karma of our own children, been paid a thousand times over. Both for those things you know of; as well as the ones we were able to get away with. In fact, I think you are starting to rack up a "payback" debt quite frankly (I can't break hundreds right now, but I do accept babysitting IOU's). When our 4 fathers pictured this country. Frantic and dazed zombie mothers with legos puncturing their feet, cheerios in their hair, sleep deprived, starved from sharing half every thing that went into their mouths over the last however many years, and Gak stains soiling their clothes hiding out at the grocery store wasn't what they pictured (too much?). Ok I digress, I really just want to say thank you for being so generous to my children (*hint hint*there's a but). >>>>Here it is. BUT...maybe next time we can buy things like the actual quiet game (why doesn't this exist yet)? Hide and don't seek? The little engine that cleaned perhaps? Maybe musical instruments that play on dog whistle frequencies or mineforgoldtomakemomanddadrich craft? Just suggestions. Now it isn't only you. I have turned over a new leaf as well. Things that seemed like a good idea to me, have now only served to chip away at the tiniest peace of mind I had left. Pearler beads are a nice quiet activity you say. You simply sit and create fabulous designs you say. WRONG! I end up working in a sweat shop at the ironing board. What the box doesn't tell you is that you are at the beck and call of creativity's dungeoneous whims. I mean honestly if they ever did anything I asked of them with as much conviction, I wouldn't be writing this right now. Seriously, these kids pump out "designs" faster than Air Jordan's are manufactured. Of course I was only cleaning, eating, toileting, etc. (insert whatever vital life task you are doing and it's worth interrupting) but I'll get back to my post with the heat to fuse together your assembly line of plastic colorful shapes. Priorities. You're right that does take precedence. Suuuuure at first the kids are somewhat quiet. It's very short lived though. Until you have to break up the cage match over the last ice blue bead, or someone taking too long to finish with the square plastic pattern that the other one absolutely needs. Because when one pictures monocrhomatic beads in a specific pattern; you can't possibly disappoint that fantasy by making a heart when you saw a square. Nor should you have to switch colors. Of course it makes sense to use all 5000 of that color before anyone else gets a chance. I mean what would your brain think about you giving in to the unimagined shape and or color shift? Irritated?! Who me? Nahhhh.
That isn't the only toy that is close to the curb though. Coming in a close second for the prize of a one way ticket on the Hefty hefty cinch sack steamer, Puzzles. Who knew puzzles could leave scars? Well I'm here to tell you they do. Bookshelf full of puzzles and still fights you say? Yup still fights. You see 3 - 5 puzzles weren't enough because there was always a "favorite". What makes one piece of cardboard better than another piece of cardboard? No really it isn't a riddle I don't have the answer because I don't understand it. A favorite puzzle?? Really? You see where I was getting hung up was the reasoning. What I didn't realize was that it isn't about the actually puzzle. No it really is just the classic I want what you haveitis. This is defined as someone who no matter what you have; be it pizza, poop, or puke...they want it. The common or layman's term for this is children.
Being the problem solver I am (Pope and associates, I'm on the market) I thought hmmm there is this holiday where children get things they want coming up. I would like to purchase said things that will actually be used. I would also like to have heat and food this month, so a budget friendly want is always great. Puzzles are pocket friendly, problem solved. No need for detective work I'll spell it out for you. I bought them puzzles. I went all out though. I thought I'd solve the above mentioned problem and get them lots of puzzles. Enough puzzles to swim in the pieces. So many puzzles that I may have contemplated buying stock first so I could get some return on my investment. Puzzles that should have alleviated the WWF, knockdown, drag out, smack down matches and operatic whiny like performances of how "I WAS GOING TO DO THAT ONE". But you see it didn't. If I had known then what I know now. I may have just put money in the college fund and called it a day. I have just caught up to the hamster wheel in my mind and found out what it is really all about. It is now known that no matter what, they will fight like rabid dogs as if it is the last scrap on the bone. Oh yes it's pure evil in that room if you take a puzzle piece someone had their eye on. Not much unlike the peace treaty negotiations of warring countries; the expectations for cooperation during operation puzzle are outrageous. Their rules on sharing...well it really shouldn't be filed under the category of sharing. Well because it's not. Rules like "I picked these 30 pieces to put on myself but you can't attach any pieces to my pieces" (do they not understand the concept of puzzle is that they all end up connecting so really they will all touch at some point?).
My personal favorite is this ole partial participation prize. This is the equivalent of the early firing of an employee that has been allowed to work a half day then all of a sudden is escorted off the premises at 12. It's like I know when we started out this was a group activity; but now that it's halfway done and you have wasted most of your man power helping me.....I actually decided I want to finish this on my own. You know so I can exclaim with joy for all to come forth and marvel at my work of art there on the floor (in the middle of the freaking floor) by taking credit for the entire completed project. This scenario is hard to discipline in without enforcing a complete tear down. I mean if we started the Taj Mahal together you're going to buy me out or I'm Miley Cyrusing this mother (wrecking ball) when I leave. It's only fair that they help the other start their puzzle or take it all a part and start over. Heads up there are tears from both parties no matter which ruling I go with. Sigh if only I cared.
The newest form of torture they have employed is the whole video game volatility vengeance, which I liken to what it must be like being water boarded. See it starts with you thinking they are leaving you alone. Maybe you thought about you time, maybe you thought you would watch a show, quick shower, eat, etc. Wrong again. Here comes the water! They play a 2 player game and squabble about every move the other person is making loud enough to annoy you. "No you can't dig there"! It get's quiet (breathe). "You have to jump"! Quiet...are they fighting? Do I go check? (breathe) "SLOW DOWN YOU ARE CRUSHING MY SCREEN"! THAT'S MYYYYYYY Diamond pick AXE!!! (Mayday! Mayday I can't breathe) Though I hold out and ignore it for a brief amount of time. Here I am forced to intervene. This is where it gets tricky. Having them try to explain what is happening is like watching the news in a foreign language. I don't know what any of those terms you are using means because in the 90's creeper meant something completely different. " I don't want him/her using my "special" things in my "special" world". Ok, I now have the gist of the debacle and deliver my final judgement. "Either we start over and create new separate profiles, share the same built up profile, or turn the game off". The crowd erupts like the O.J. verdict was just read. Kids crying wild eyed falling to their knees. But he blah blah wahhhh she yada yada, not fair, ahhhhh....(Danger Danger choking too much water) I have had it. Unplugs the game and walks away (but walks away real bad like Denzel or Bruce after they just blew up some bad guys with explosions and fireworks in the background. Swaggy) Ehhh well you get my drift. One question keeps repeating over and over and over in my mind..... Is that Calgon place a real location? I need to know.
So aside from clearing out EVERY toy they own out of fear that the sticks and rocks I will replace them with will turn into weapons; I am going to institute a new rule. First sign of arguments I will chant Maximus! Maximus! Fighters go to their corners and come out swingin. They'll get reaadyyy to rummmmmblle and whoever is left alive gets to play with that toy, aaaaand I guess all the others since they are now an only child. No? Ehh ok what about elevated voices/whining break out; and I walk in like the Sticky Bandits grabbing from every which way. Then, I just put them all in a bin with a padlock and swallow the key? The toys silly not the kids (unless you weren't judging me for that). That or maybe I could assign calendar days to play with specific toys? Do you see this? See what kids do to you? I shouldn't have to contemplate things like this. Toys are supposed to be fun. They are categorized under entertainment. Created for the sole intent to produce twinkling laughs and bright smiles out of little Angels. There's that but again>>> BUT not in my house. To my children they are torture tactics. Anyhow (I'm whining a bit) in light of upcoming birthdays; I thought I would save myself and my sanity future nervous breakdowns and give suggestions for actual real things that might make more sense. College savings, stocks and bonds, cooking classes, (Hey, moms gotta eat too), sewing 101, music lessons (scholarship prep at it's finest), shoes with mops on the bottom (no really they are happier in a clean house), two week all expense paid vacation for their parents (What?? They could use the time away from us. It gives two fold just sayin), YMCA/art/drama/summer camp gift cards, movie tickets, theater passes, museum passes, or great America season passes and any and everything else that they can't fight over, enslave me with, or use to blow up my home.
This blog is paid for by mom's without wine, frazzled by fighting, parents supporting peace and quiet, and our local sponsor bubble baths for the broken. I'm a tired mom and I approve this message.
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