You Smell Like Pig Food

I think every parent has a dream for their child. They envision successful adults doing sports, earning doctorates or following in the family business.

I myself am no different. I have a dream for my children. It’s not a lofty goal. I just merely don’t want my children to be annoying.

I became aware of a potential annoying habit my children were partaking in, early on in their development.

It is the asking of food at other people’s homes.

Granted, the requests for food and drink usually take place at their Grandma’s house, it still drives me nuts. I could have just fed my kids a seven course meal filled with protein and carbohydrates and they will still feign hunger and starvation as soon as they see Grandma.

I realize Grandma’s kitchen is usually filled with delicious, fresh baked goods but I still think it is rude to ask for said treats.

I am much more subtle with my approach. I lift the lids, sniff, ogle adoringly and drool. This tactic is much more appropriate.

I sat my children down one day before our departure to Grandma’s house and said, “Do not ask for food at Grandma’s house. If she offers something, that is fine. But DO NOT ask for ANYTHING!”

The minute we arrived at Grandma’s house, my then, 4 year old son, Bency, jumped out of the van, ran up to Grandma and said, “Will you be offering us any treats today? We are not allowed to ask for anything but if you offer it, then it is okay!” I shook my head in disgust as Grandma went to retrieve some freshly made Rice Krispie bars.

The second annoying habit I am trying to curtail is tattling.

My daily life is a constant barrage of complaints and the regaling of horrible offenses that my two older children have committed.

Most of these inappropriate behaviors have to deal with name-calling, tongues being stuck out and the hogging of a certain color marker.

My 5 year old, Bency, recently came to my side to inform me that my 7 year old, Iris had said he smelled like pig food.

I sent Iris to her room to “think about her actions and come up with 5 nice things to say about her brother.“ Iris had not been confined to her room 2 minutes before Bency was back at my side asking that I release her from her jail sentence because he actually didn’t mind being referred to as the stench of pig food and just really wanted to play with Iris and finish their game of Hungry, Hungry Hippos.

I also have a sneaky suspicion that Bency is a tattletale in Kindergarten. He has come home a couple of times saying that he has told his teacher about a certain boy who was swinging on the handrail and not standing on his number in line.

I told Bency that these actions were not worth telling the teacher about. If she deems these “credible” offenses she will surely notice and take action.

So, I have taken a new stance in our household. It’s called “No More Tattling.”  I no longer want to hear if someone has called anyone an unpleasant name, stuck out their tongue or not limited themselves on a certain color of marker.

The day after making this declaration and after already making several reminders on the “No Tattling Law” I put into effect; Bency came to me after I heard an argument brewing in the basement concerning the choice of cartoon that was put on.

He nonchalantly said, “Hey Mom, I was wondering if Iris happened to mention that I was the worst brother in the world?

I said, “No, she didn’t tell me this and you better not be tattling.”

Bency rubbed his chin, shook his head, scrunched his eyes and in a matter of fact tone replied, “Oh gosh, no way Mom. I’m definitely not tattling. I just wasn’t sure if I heard her correctly and was just wondering if you heard that I was the worst brother in the world?”

Perhaps I have set my desires too high for my children. Perhaps my dream of raising people who are not annoying is just too much to ask for. Perhaps it’s time to lower my standards and just try to achieve raising a couple of kids who grow up to obtain their PhD’s and are only slightly annoying.

These kids really love each other but really a brother or sister is the only one who you can really get away with telling them they smell like pig food so taking every advantage of it at a young age is necessary.

You Have A Broken Heart

I mentioned in a previous post my ears are often assaulted by really Dumb Arguments thanks to my kids. The other day held another fine example.

We were driving along in the van when I heard arguing brewing in the back seat. I couldn’t hear the exact dialogue but could certainly recognize the growls, sighs and high-pitch “no’s” that were being emitted.

Finally, my 7 year old daughter, Iris, let out a, “Mom!!!! Bency is emptying my bucket!!”

I immediately panicked and began frantically looking in my rear view mirror and trying to steal glances over my shoulder.

Who brought a bucket in the van????” I wailed.

What is being emptied inside the van???” I wailed again.

I envisioned hundreds of roly-poly bugs being strewn throughout the van (a usual favorite to put in buckets in our house).

I turned the volume on the radio down and Iris explained. She said that during her Life Skills class at school, her teacher told them that we all have an “internal bucket”. When someone does or says something mean to us it empties our bucket.

She then told me that Bency, our 5 year old, emptied HER bucket when he said that she “HAD A BROKEN HEART”.

I know Bency has no clue what a broken heart is and I’m assuming he learned this terminology listening to the radio because almost every song is about someone with a broken heart.

I wasn’t going to get into a lengthy conversation about “broken hearts.”

I simply told Bency, “Please quit emptying your sister’s bucket!”

For good measure I threw in, “And don’t ever bring any buckets into the van!!”

Iris emptying a bucket when she was 3 years old

Super Duper Dumb Arguments

Really DUMB Arguments.

These fill our house on an almost daily basis between my 7 year old Iris and my 5 year old Bency. I think I would be better suited for “real” arguments over sharing or perhaps an occasional fist fight. EASY…send them to their rooms or take away privileges. No, instead I have got stuck with a multitude of dumb arguments.

Here are a few from yesterday and a few of my past favorite arguments!

Early morning argument yesterday:

I can hear escalating loud voices coming from the basement where the two kids are playing. Soon after, I hear pounding feet coming up the stairs and Bency yelling, “I’m going to tell Mom and you’re going to be in BIG trouble.” Bency enters the room I’m in and in a frantic, irritated voice tells me,” Iris doesn’t believe I love her and even though I have told her over and over that I do in fact love her, she won’t believe me.”

Me: “Iris…Bency really, really loves you…PLEASE believe him.” (Seriously, what do I do with that one?)

Early evening argument yesterday:

The kids are playing some imaginary game outside. They have brought out some stuffed animals and are putting them in the outside toy box. Iris is using a baby toy that has different colored keys on it and pretending to free the animals from the toy box by finding the right key. Iris and Bency begin arguing over which key will open the pretend lock…Iris screeches that it is the blue one…Bency tells her she is all wrong and that the only way the animals will be brought to freedom is if she uses the yellow one.

Me: I roll my eyes and walk back in the house. I refuse to get in the middle of imaginary lock and keys.

Argument from when the kids were around 5 years old and 3 years old:

Bency: “MOM!!! Iris is calling me a COFFEE CAT!” (Iris used to pronounce a lot of words wrong and he was indeed a “copy cat.”)

Me: I couldn’t say anything for a good long while because I had to sneak around the corner and laugh for a while.

Another argument from those 5 year old and 3 year old days:

Iris: “Bency, did you know those things that look like mountains. They are called pawncaynos (remember, she mispronounced a lot of words) and they spurt out hot coffee.”

Bency: “Iris, I believe what you are referring to is a VOLCANO and it spews fire which is called lava.”

Me: As much I was enjoying hearing this argument escalate, I did have to set Iris straight.

Iris was mad because she wanted to sit in the middle when I was taking this picture!

The other day I witnessed Bency accidentally bump Cesar (our almost 2 year old) as he was walking past him. It made Cesar lightly bump his head on his highchair. Cesar immediately looked to me and said, “Momma, Momma, Bency did it. Bency hit me head.”

I’m so super excited that little Cesar wants in on the arguing action. May the DUMB arguments never end!!!