Today has been one of those kind of days that makes me want to sell my kids to the carnival.
It’s not because of anything in particular that any of them did. It’s because of ALL the things that they do and won’t do.
Four kids in is not equal to four times the work of one kid. Work, cost and most importantly, aggravation, increase exponentially with each additional child.
A simple task like making lunch requires the concentration of a neurosurgeon. One kid likes peanut butter, but not if it’s crunchy, no one likes jelly, except one kid, but he won’t eat it if it’s with peanut butter. Another kid wants mustard on his salami sandwiches, but not on his ham sandwiches. This kid likes mustard on salami sandwiches, but will only eat the salami if it’s from the deli. One kid doesn’t like grapes, but loves strawberries. Another likes grapes, but not strawberries. One will only eat green grapes. Two like cantaloupe, two hate it. Everyone likes cucumbers, but one has to have them cut in circles with the peels left on and without salt. One won’t eat them if they don’t have salt.
And I know all the old school parents are going to be all, “We just ate what was put in front of us, and didn’t have a choice.” And to that I say, times have changed, and if you want to give it a whirl and listen to the whining that ensues, be my guest. And thanks for pointing out how much better you did things in your day. I hope it gives you a warm and fuzzy feeling inside.
No wonder I have a raging tension headache right now. Everyone’s bitching at me.
© Jennifer Alys Windholz, 2011