Also, the cats. Christopher’s job is to feed the cats and clean the litter boxes daily. Yet if I don’t nag, it does not get done and then they seek out my towels. So now every time I think I have a “clean” towel, I discover it smells like cat urine. Nice. Also, when I am trying to feed Sophia, I have three cats underfoot circling around my ankles because their food bowl is empty.

Bobby called today and I vented, I vented good. I told him how frustrated I was at their total lack of responsibility, how Austin pulled out a progress report while we were walking out the door and asked me to sign it because it was due today and I refused because we would have been late if I had to stop everything and look it over before I sign it. I am just plain sick of it.

So I told my husband how I was half tempted to load up the three cats and two dogs in the van and take them to a kennel for the weekend and board them. How tempted I am to tell the kids that I got rid of the animals because I found them families that would take better care of them. How tempted I am to tell them that if they did not love the animals enough to feed them, water them, and provide them with a clean place to poop and pee that they will go elsewhere.

BUT that would be mean. I am not about to punish my pets, or my four year old because of something my teen & tween did. I am a mean mom, but at the same time I don’t want to teach them that lying and trickery is OK. I struggle with where the line in the sand is sometimes. I struggle daily with trying to be effective without being too mean or too nice. I struggle with making the punishment fit the crime. I struggle with too many chores vs. too little chores. I have very good kids, and I believe I have good kids because my husband and I have always worked together and tried to be consistent, we have always given them responsibility, and we have never spoiled them with toys or candy because they held their breath or stomped their feet at the store.

I think with our family spread out like it is right now we are all feeling the stress and I feel less effective because I don’t have my partner here to back me up. I think he feels helpless because he wants to help and he wants to put his foot up their butts, but from that many thousands of miles away, what can you say? “Just wait, in four months, you are going to be sorry!”? And I think the kids are struggling too, they miss their dad and it is hard to stay motivated when you are sad, I get that. I just wish they would see how overwhelmed I am carrying their load on top of my own. I need to heal this fracture, or I will crumble under the weight of it all.

I don’t think this weekend is going to be a fun one, I can tell you that! Hmmmm, I wonder if I can figure out how to set up the parental controls on the TV??

I blame the two teeth that have just poked through, but another theory is that they have awards similar to the Academy Awards, and Sophia was trying her darnedest to get a nomination.

The way I figure it, the perfect fit has several key elements. Let me break it down:

• The Face: Must be red, crimson, or maroon.
• The Eyes: Tears or no tears… eyes must either be closed tight, or have a distant, far off crazy look.
• The Arms: The best fits include dramatic arm action, flailing, pounding, or waving will suffice.
• The Hands: Must be balled into fists.
• Vocalization: This element is most important, the best fits include many different vocalizations, from yelling, screaming, growling, crying, howling, gasping, and breath holding…aka the buildup.
• Other Dramatic Effects: These vary greatly and can include throwing the body backwards, rolling, kicking, stomping, running, climbing, writhing, etc and all are dependent on the age and maturity of the child and severity of the tantrum.

On the fit throwing table, the fit Sophie just threw wold have been an 8/10 (for an infant of course). She had crying, wailing, breath holding, arm flailing, crawling up all over me, etc. I hated to break the news to her that she was about 3 kids too late for much sympathy. By the 4th child, their little tantrums are almost comical. Of course they still get the same amount of comfort and love as the earlier children, but inside you are thinking “Aww, she is trying so hard, and I am trying even harder not to burst out into fits of giggles”.

I found that when I first was a parent, fits were sad, scary, and frustrating because I felt so helpless. As I got more hours of experience under my belt, I removed the blame and guilt and they become a part of parenthood; at one point you start to admire their effort, tuning it out.

Thankfully after some Orajel and infant Tylenol, Sophie decided she was more tired that she thought and is now laying down for a nap. Matthew also fell asleep… he’s laying next to me on the couch snoring away. The older two kids are at friends’ houses. The silence is both deafening and exhilarating. I think I will grab myself a fresh made-from-scratch brownie, another cup of coffee, and watch my Netflix movie. Could it be a more perfect afternoon??

Dear Cindy,
I want to thank you for your email thread with the subject line “Spring Cleaning Challenge #3: The Kid’s Rooms”. You sufficiently helped me traumatize my children for life, and almost made my 12 year old son cry.

Let me back up a bit… I am a mother of four, two preteens, a preschooler, and a prima donna, I mean a baby. My sons are 12, 11, and 4, and my daughter is 9 months old. I also have three cats, and two dogs who are over 85 lbs. Things got even crazier this February when my husband left for a year in Iraq as a military contractor. I would like to say my house normally just looks “lived in”, but truth be told there are times when it looks like World War III was just fought and a nuclear disaster was contained in my 1800 square foot home.

Your email could not have been read at a better time. Today we had a surprise blizzard here in Colorado, and because it is spring break, I have been hearing how bored my children are, or have had to pull them out of their Gameboys just to get them to clear their dishes from the table. What a brilliant day to play the “Clean your room or mom will kill you” game!! So I excitedly posted the link to the the spreadsheet in my Facebook status and printed out a copy. My four year old took quite a delight in running up to the printer to grab the game sheet and I handed them to my oldest son. His displeasure was easy to read; his face was red, his answers were curt and he looked like he could start crying at any minute.

To prove to him what a wuss he was being, I printed out a second sheet and told him I was going to do the same to my room. I even took the four year old up to “help” me and instructed the 11 year old that if he stopped working that he would would be grounded until the end of time.

Truth be told, the four year old was a lot of help. He made an awesome little “gofer” and had no problems fitting under the bed to push out CDs and books that found themselves held hostage under the bed by rogue dust bunnies. The children needed no prompting to get back to work or stay busy. They did need some reminding that Yu-Gi-Oh cards do not belong under dressers and that “clean dresser tops” does not mean to pile the junk right back on them as soon as you have dusted the tops off, however I think they earned an A-!

I soon found the cleaning was contagious though, because soon it spread and I found myself “accidentally” cleaning my bathroom mirror, which was not part of your list. The virus kept mutating and soon I was accidentally putting away pill bottles and mouthwash, tooth paste and mousse. Hair clips and nail clippers soon seemed to crawl into their drawers to escape the wrath. Next thing I know I am thinking how wonderful my cucumber melon all purpose would make the room smell and the counter, sink and toilet soon sparkled.

Before I knew it, my cluttered bedroom soon resembled a spa-like sanctuary. I now have a peaceful place to retreat to at the end of the day, and won’t have to worry about books and CDs crawling out from under the bed while I am sleeping and tying me up like in Gulliver’s Travels.

THANK YOU for giving me my sanity back and helping me to find a small slice of peace again. I LOVE my gorgeous bedroom and bathroom, I am really hoping having my rooms clean will inspire me to break out the gallons of paint I have had sitting out in the garage for weeks now and finish my redecoration project I have been putting off since I bought this house back in 2004.

Heather

My dad is a trickster, he likes to joke with telemarketers and salespeople. He gets it from his father who is the same way. I remember one time my dad telling someone on the phone that his entire family had just been in a horrible accident and were totally burned and disfigured and mangled… and when he hung up the phone he was laughing so hard he was almost crying… on the other end of the phone was some young kid peddling a free sitting for Olan Mills photography!! Anyways, I digress.

So last night in my dream my parents were hosting a BBQ and I saw a woman driving around sticking Avon magazines under everyone’s windshield wiper. As she comes around to the party, who are the cast of Law & Order and SVU, but in the dream are real judges, lawyers, detectives, etc. I think “Oh no, here he goes again!” and he does not disappoint.

He tells the Avon lady that they are celebrating the pregnancy of one of the attendees, he points to an elderly woman, probably in her mid 60′s. Of course she is not really pregnant, she is swollen from cancer treatments, but the Avon lady does not know this. He then goes through the crowd introducing the guests, and telling her facts about them that by appearances seem very unlikely… this person here, who is clean cut & very professional just was released from prison for a lifetime of heroin use and trafficking, this gorgeous woman over here was born a man, etc.

When I woke up, all I could think of is how odd that dream was, and I promise I have not been watching too much Law & Order, but I do think I need to take a trip to see my parents soon as I have been thinking about my dad a lot lately.

10:00 PM Wednesday- I try to go to bed early because I am exhausted from lack of sleep. The music has been on for an hour and Sophie is awake because she cannot fall back asleep after being woken up several times by noise. I find the non-emergent number and call the police if it is late enough in the evening to make a noise complaint… they say we do not have a specific time, any time it is loud I can call. I try to sleep but Sophie is so tired and fussy, she normally goes to bed around 7:00 PM. About 45 minutes later I call the police back to tell them that the music has stopped and they can cancel the complaint, the dispatched relays the music has stopped because an officer has already been out and told them to shut the music off.

I got a video today of the dog, just in case it tries to hurt my dogs or anything.
It barks at the littlest provocation, lunges at the fence, etc. I don’t feel comfortable letting my children play in their own back yard when the dog is out. They don’t seem to be bothered by all the barking. The bag of garbage out on the back porch is a nice touch.