Bad mommy, Things Not To Teach Your Kids, and boogies.

Yesterday they opened a brand spanking new (and one and only) Arby's here in town. We braved the unknown and went to dinner with the MIL. Anna is not a person who handles the unknown or change well and became teary when I tried to explain the menu choices for kids.

Choking back tears she settled on a ham and cheese kids meal. The MIL offered to pay for Anna's since Anna was going to spend the night, so I told the MIL what she wanted.

"I DON'T want just ham and cheese," she blurted while sniffling back droplets, droplets that threatened to turn into a full blown thunderstorm any minute... So I bent down and rubbed her back and asked her softly what else she would like. She just crossed her arms and glared at me. I asked a few more times, nothing. Before both of us had an out of body experience due to extreme frustration ( because in my minds eye I could totally see the both of us floating up near the ceiling, still about to smack the crap out of each other) ;) , I offered suggestions as to what else could possibly make her dining experience AND sandwich so much better.

"Do you want lettuce and mayonnaise?" I asked, still rubbing her back, trying to remain calm and even toned to avoid further out bursts, because deep down I knew she was angry for taking her someplace where she would actually have to make a decision, the process taking more than just a few seconds. It was all our fault, you see- thus the glares and tears.

She nodded, her shoulders relaxing a fraction, and a hint of forgiveness passed between us as we looked at each other. She rubbed her nose.

"We don't know what you want unless you tell us, honey."

Oh crud. One step forward, two steps back. We are back to glares. Dang, now she is thinking I am trying to make her feel stupid. This kid is only 6... God help me.

"Well, I'm just saying. All this fuss over something simple. Just tell us what you want. No problems, OK?"

I don't wait for the answer and I find 2 tables for all of us to sit. Mere minutes later, and mere minutes away from the One Who Dares To Anger Her, Anna is feeling better and sits across from her nana. A few minutes after that, she is feeling elated and decides that she can resume the usual stuff like calling her mom a dufus.

"Mom, you are a D-O-O-F-I-S."

"Anna , you are a B-U-T-T H-E-A-D."

"A what?"

"Beee-Uuuuu-T-T..."

"Butt head?" she asks, with a comical mixture of disbelief, curiosity and amusement on her face

"Yeah, but I mean that in the nicest way possible, " I say matter of fact , but with a smile on my face. We all laugh.

Except the butt Anna.

"Yeah, well... you're a dufus. And I mean that in the nicest way possible." Again, we laugh. Me not so much.

Oh God. What have I done. My MIL laughs because I am turning red. Fantastic. I suck at this thing called parenting. I only hope that they can learn to function on a low rumble of sarcasm- instead of the full on roar that I seem to be teaching them.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Oh, but wait- there's more!

Tonight my plans of giving my youngest a healthy dose of tryptophans backfired on me. Heed my warning, people! Unlike what you would think, a grumpy and tired toddler plus a bed time snack of milk and bananas does not. a sleepy child. make.

The beagle across the street barks. "What dat?" A dog, I answer.

Lather , rinse, repeat. 242 times. Meanwhile in between, we have established that yes she is cold, yes the fan is too windy, and yes she wants a blanket. I get up and close a few windows and turn off the ceiling fan

Enough, I say- go to sleep.

Oh God, here it comes. NO! Not the silent cry face, which eventually leads to the full on , ear piercing siren blast of a cry- Yup, there it is.

After about a minute, "I wan tee-chooooooooo..."

No- I say- You're fine. I'm not getting up again. We argue for a few minutes about whether or not she needs a tissue, and at this point she probably does - but I refuse to give in. She wipes her nose on her pillow case. I cover her up with her blanket.

"No wan babake (blanket)!" she kicks it off.

Fine- I say_ don't use the blanket.

"I wan babake."

Ok, I offer her the blanket.

"No wan babake!" Repeat again, about 6 or 7 times.

Forget it -I say- if you want an blanket, get it yourself. I'm not doing this "I wan- NO wan" stuff all night, I love you- GOOD night.

I bet you can't guess what came next. Uhhuh. Oh yeah. Crying fit #2.

"I wan tee-chooooooooo..." again with the tissues. For about 5 minutes.

She starts to settle. I ask her if she wants her new Blue's Clues puppy her nana bought for her today. She utters a whine, which I take to be as a "yes". My mistake.

"No wan Booze Doos!" she chucks it at me.

Fine- I say as I chuck it over my shoulder, and into the the dark and murky waters of the green carpeting that is just beyond the raft of her mattresses that are in the corner of the room- No Blue's Clues.

Begin shrieking episode #3. When will I learn? We argue back and forth over the possibility of me rescuing Booze Doos. I stand my ground.

Her crying begins to dwindle, and she turns toward the wall (which is usually a sign that she is tired of terrorizing us and wants to sleep)... I look over my shoulder to peek at her. Her keen powers of perception sense the ever so subtle change in mattress terrain, and she turns to look at me while inserting- AND TWISTING- her second digit up to the first knuckle, in to her precious little nose.

AH! Success! She smiles triumphantly, all the while wielding her prized possession- her Precious, if you will- in the air. I reach over and take it from her before her evil plans to ingest her Precious are realized.

Forsooth, wailing installment #4 did ensue.

"Are you kidding me?" I yell, beyond exasperation... "Your mad because I took away your booger?"

At this point I didn't have the energy to be angry anymore, just incredulous. Which gave way to giggling... which made her more angry.

Some people.

They just never learn.