Friday, April 29, 2016

life::an outtake.

Living with children who like very few foods, the introduction of dinner on a nightly basis is often the beginning of a downward spiral. Last week was a week from hell in the nighttime department. (I blame the full moon.) There wasn't a single evening that wasn't a sh*tshow put on by the children-three.

One night while Colby was away, I had conversations like,
Owen (in tears): "I just made my whole life ruined!"
Me: "Well, Owen, that was a little dramatic. AND. Your whole life is not ruined because you've lost your dessert privilege this evening."

Me: "Do you think what I did is fair?"
Owen (tears): "No.."
Me: "And why is that?"
Owen (with gusto): "Because I am nice and I'm a Christian!"

This left field answer was in response to me taking away his Garfield books for awhile after repeating some unkind Garfield - Odie dialogue to our dog, Macy. This boy is passionate.

But then, the weekend rolled in, and we had the best weekend outdoors - and I had happy and pleasant children who didn't turn into monsters at dinner and bedtime. And so I began this week feeling refreshed and far enough from the events, that some moments shared with my quotable kid were now laughable.

Well. Then Dad leaves for a weekend (ahem, 3 bedtimes, I mean), and we were bound to have at least one night filled with... emotion.

So tonight while sobbing, "Nighttime is not my favorite time of day. After dinner, I never have any fun!" - my eldest, and yet surprisingly not most dramatic son.

And my response?


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