I started to go with macaroni and cheese, but my son who loves noodles and loves cheese does not like them mixed together. That's when I remembered the biscuits I had bought for no particular reason at the grocery store. I already had a salad in the fridge, so I was ready to go.
I picked up the kids and when the inevitable question was voiced from the backseat, I was prepared.
"Mommy, what's for dinner?"
"Well, I was going to have ham and macaroni and chee-" I started.
"EWWWWWW!! That's discusting!" I HATE macaroni and -"
"BUT," I yelled, "I decided to make biscuits instead."
"But I don't li-i-i-i-ke biscuits!"
"Benjamin, what are biscuits?" I calmly asked.
"I don't know!"
"OK, well, I think you would like them, but if you don't think so, I'll just make mini-breads instead. Is that okay?"
I should also note that while writing this my friend reminded me that for my birthday dinner Benjamin got mad because the restaurant was out of chicken strips and they only had nuggets. "I DON'T LIKE NUGGETS!" The saintly (well tipped) waitress went along with me to tell Benjamin that his "chicken strips" were cut into smaller pieces to help him eat them. And he ate them just fine!
Color me confused!
Just like last Friday: the day to test every last bit of my patience.
I was in the kitchen filling the dishwasher, when Henry ran in crying.
"Mommy, Benjamin has my alligator and he won't give it back!"
"Ok, give me a minute and I'll see what we can do."
I'll skip the negotiating that went back and forth here, but suffice it to say that 15 minutes later Henry had his alligator back. And seeing as I was done filling the dishwasher, I sat down on the couch and both boys joined me.
Henry had the alligator in his hands. We were watching cartoons. Henry casually rolls the alligator out of his hand into Benjamin's lap and says "here." Let me take a moment to state that these FACTS are not in dispute! Both boys agree that this is exactly how the next fight started.
The show ended and I got up to take a shower. Five minutes later, Henry stormed in and screamed because Ben wouldn't give him his alligator back. I feel like I'm having déjà vu, only this time I'm soaking wet! I tried to talk to him during my shower, but that didn't really get me anywhere. After I got out of the shower I spent another 30 minutes trying to figure out why he had given his brother the alligator again. ("It was a joke!") I let it go, mostly as a lesson to learn about living with the consequences of your actions, but also because I was tired of refereeing. Eventually Benjamin gave back the alligator (right about the time Henry stopped caring about it.)
Sometimes this motherhood thing is just too much for me.
I can't tell stories about the boys without telling on Frances too.
Did you see this picture of her last week for Wacky Hair day at school?
It wasn't terribly difficult. I like fixing hair. On a normal day, however, Frances runs screaming if she sees me pick up a brush. If it's Wacky Hair Day though, all bets are off. For this style, I had to comb her hair, part it in two places and braid it while she draped herself over the side of the couch upside down. I braided three French braids up the back of her head and then used bobby pins to curl them up, cross them and pin them into place. When that was all done, I sprayed the heck out of it with pink and blue hair paint. Guess how much she protested all these machinations? NOT AT ALL!
And there you have it! The reason why I, as a mother, am perpetually confused!