My sister and I fought like cats and dogs when we were kids, but my brother and I never fought. I chalked that up to there only being two years between my sister and me and nine years between my brother and me. With that in mind, when we had Baby Girl, I figured the kids wouldn’t fight much, since Little Man would be almost 6.5 years older.
I was wrong about that.
Rarely does a day pass where they don’t fight about something. And on the days they don’t fight, it’s usually because one has stayed over with a grandparent or is too sick to fight. It drives me crazy.
Mornings are the worst. I can’t even comb my hair or brush my teeth without hearing screams coming from the kitchen, where the children are supposed to be eating their breakfast. If I only had to drop off Little Man, I wouldn’t have to get dressed, since I can let him out at the curb. I have to walk Baby Girl in, though, so looking like an extra from The Walking Dead isn’t an option. It only takes a few minutes to throw on some clothes, brush my teeth, and run a brush through my hair, so you’d think that the kids could keep their shit together and not fight. Since fighting comes as naturally as breathing, however, that doesn’t happen.
I warn them before I dash to the bedroom to get dressed. No fighting. I even tell Little Man that if Baby Girl tries to start something with him–she’s often the instigator–to not engage her. All they have to do is sit there and eat their breakfast. That’s it. Shoveling food in your mouth without wanting to kill your sibling should be easy, but it’s not, as sometimes not even a full minute passes before I hear the screams.
Sometimes I ignore it for a few moments and wait to see if they’ll solve the problem themselves without me stomping in there. Since that’s as likely as me making it through the day without tripping over something, that rarely doesn’t happen. I have to stomp back in there, put my hands on my hips, and speak in my Mom Voice to let them know I mean business and to stop the crap.
This morning, when the screams started, I went in to see what was going on. Little Man told me that Baby Girl tried to hit him with a bottle of honey. Baby Girl said that she tried to hit Little Man with the bottle of honey after he threw it at her. Little Man claimed he did not throw the honey at her and had no idea how the honey he was using made its way across the table into her hands. It must be magic.
After some scolding them and threatening not to let anyone do anything fun after school if they didn’t stop fighting, I started to make my way back to the bathroom when I heard Baby Girl say this:
I’m gonna annoy you now.
We weren’t late, but it was close.
What does your typical morning look like?
Rachel at Pretty In Baby Food had some lovely things to say about “Don’t Lick That!” Check out the review on her blog, plus enter the giveaway on her site to win a copy of the book.
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