Let's put on your shoes. No!
Let's take off your shoes. No!
Let's brush your teeth. No!
Lets pick up your toys. Silent treatment.
Let's go get a bath. Runs screaming in the other direction.
The exceptions in my house is if the request involves ice cream, Noggin, Elmo or choo-choos. Then anything is possible.
These tiny daily battles leave me feeling defeated, unproductive and relatively exhausted.
No, your right, it shouldn't take me 15 minutes, 3 laps around my house, a wrestling match, and a quick game of pick-up what I drop mommy every morning to get socks and shoes on my child, but it does. And yes, this qualifies that as my cardio for the day.
But I have a confession; one I am ashamed to admit out loud. Sometimes I yell, and sometimes it actually works.
However, as became demonstrably clear the other night at bath time. I apparently yell more than I'd like to believe.
Tyler, for the third time, has jumped up and slammed his bottom down into the tub causing a tide wave of water to slosh against the side of the tub while he flings his washcloth like a whip sending a spattering of water onto me and the wall adjacent to the tub.
Me [snapping]: "Tyler! Stop that! Look what you've done!"I froze and looked at Tyler puzzled. He giggled back at me as I launched into a hysterical laughing fit and fell off the toilet. Which he also thought was pretty funny.
Probably louder than I meant to.
Tyler [pointing]: "Ooooh, Mommy you mad"
And this is why I am a pathetic excuse for a parent when it comes to doling out punishment.
Because I can't stop laughing long enough to keep a straight face.