“Mom!! He spit his toothpaste on my curling iron!!!” Screamed my 14-year old daughter from the kids’ Loo.
“Well Honey,” I calmly called back from the kitchen, “If you didn’t leave it in the sink your brother probably wouldn’t do that.”
Parenting a literal four-year-old who sees a sink as a sink regardless of what’s in it along with a scattered teenage daughter with her hormones emerging is a joy to look back on. That’s because the scenarios like the one described occurred regularly. I worked hard to hold a “valium face” so the kids wouldn’t know they got to me. (Truth be told, I felt badgered and outnumbered unless my husband was home.)
I’m sure my daughter would tell you she knew they got to me even then, but her brother now 16 reminisced about when his sister was his current age. She would “wool him up” to the point where they were pouncing, smacking, and screeching at stroke-inducing decibels. Their “20 minutes of fun” equated to an hour and a half of cool-down time before the house returned to Zen. I used to try and interrupt this daily exhibit, and all it did was get me further up the stammering and shaking barometer.
How could they both act like 3 year olds? How should I respond?
Finally one day it hit me. My daughter had Red Cross training. Even though it looked like it, she truly wouldn’t kill her brother. Let her experience the consequences of wooling up an ADHD kid and just leave.
So, once their gig started I would take my purse and head for the coffee shop. I drove off to get my decaf mocha and let them work it all out.
Net result: Mommie wasn’t rattled anymore cuz she didn’t have to watch or participate in the scene. Bonus: Mommie got her mocha!
The kids lost their audience.
Wonder of all, the house was quiet when Mommie got home within the hour. They wooled each other up a lot less once I started going out for so much coffee. Pretty soon, I didn’t even have to go for a mocha as an escape and could even take my tigers along...
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